The thrill of the A-rankers' fight lingered in the air, but only for a brief moment.
Soon, that excitement was swallowed by a far heavier atmosphere.
Everyone understood what was coming next.
Other than Morven, the remaining five S-rankers exchanged glances. The mood among them shifted instantly: half anticipation, half wariness.
Rowan broke the silence first. He turned toward Magnar with a crooked smirk.
"It's going to be two of us. I was hoping I'd get matched with you, Magnar. That way, we could enjoy fighting for a while."
Magnar scoffed and returned the smirk with mockery.
"Oh? Have you already forgotten? The last time we fought, I nearly crushed you. Or did you conveniently erase that memory?"
Rowan laughed softly.
"Haha… my friend, don't cling to the past. Do you really think I'm the same as I was back then? If we get picked, I'll show you exactly how much I've changed, right after cracking your head open."
Magnar's eyes sharpened.
"Oho… bold words. You wouldn't dare speak like that unless you'd truly improved."
As their exchange ended, the massive screen above the stadium began to glow.
Loading..
The hum of mana echoed through the arena, and curiosity rose with every second.
'Who's going to fight? Which two monsters will clash?'
Then the screen flashed.
Two names appeared.
The entire stadium gasped in unison.
Names no one had expected.
[Draven Ironfell (Battle Mage – S) vs Dessa Ebonhart (Psychic – S)]
Among all possibilities,
Them?
Dessa clicked her tongue lightly.
"Out of everyone… it chooses us? Well, it can't be helped."
Draven turned toward her and smiled, relaxed yet sharp.
"Shall we go, Dessa? I never thought we'd be matched like this. Let's do our best, and try not to get seriously hurt."
"Tch!"
Roswyn, watching from the stands, clenched her fists and looked away in clear jealousy.
The stadium fell completely silent as Draven and Dessa stepped onto the duel ground.
Everyone knew this was no ordinary battle.
These were S-rankers, existences feared across nations.
Instinctively, the crowd stepped further back. Even the confident spectators felt an invisible pressure pushing them away. A transparent barrier unfolded over the arena, sealing the space completely.
Draven stood tall, holding a black wand. Its tip glowed faintly, mana pulsing rhythmically. His robe fluttered as elemental forces responded to his presence.
Dessa walked forward calmly. No weapon. No armor. Only a sharp, unreadable gaze.
—-----------------------------------
Name - Dessa Ebonhart
Age - 20
Gender - Female
[Power rank - S]
[Specialty - Psychic]
[Strength - 200]
[Stamina - 250]
[Endurance - 140]
[Agility - 180]
[Other powers and skills]
<> Memory Manipulation - S
Erasing, altering, or planting memories can be done to a living being. Effects depend on how strong the opponent's mentality
<> Astral Projection – S
Allows the user to separate their consciousness from their physical body, manifesting as a spirit form capable of independent movement and perception.
<> Telepathy – S
Enables direct communication between minds, allowing the user to send, receive, and interpret thoughts across distance.
<> Telekinesis – S
Grants complete mental control over objects and elements, manipulating them with precision and overwhelming force.
—-----------------------------------
Ashan focused intently, activating his Sharingan.
'Compared to the others… This duel is on another level. This is worth watching.'
The bell rang.
Draven acted instantly.
His wand flared as a wave of fire raced across the arena, scorching the ground.
Dessa raised a single hand.
The flames halted midair.
They twisted, spiraled, and collapsed into nothingness.
With a flick of her wrist, chunks of stone tore free from the arena floor and shot toward Draven like cannon fire.
"Whoa…!"
The crowd erupted in shock.
Draven spun his wand in a smooth arc. A violent gust of wind blasted outward, scattering the stones in every direction. Without pausing, he pointed forward.
Spears of ice formed instantly and streaked toward her.
Dessa clenched her fist.
The ice shattered midair, bursting into mist before reaching her. Then, without warning, she ripped a massive slab of the arena floor upward and hurled it.
Boom!
Draven vanished in a flash.
He reappeared behind her and slammed his wand down. A pillar of earth surged upward, aiming to crush her from below.
Dessa's eyes glowed.
The pillar froze mid-rise, then crumbled into dust.
The crowd roared.
"Not bad," Draven muttered.
He raised his wand again.
Water surged forward like a tidal wave.
Dessa split it apart with telekinesis. But within the mist, Draven cast again. The scattered droplets froze, turning into a storm of ice shards.
She crossed her arms.
The shards stopped inches from her body, suspended like frozen stars.
Then, she sent them all back.
Draven summoned a stone wall just in time. The shards slammed into it, cracks spreading violently across the barrier.
For a brief moment, both stood still.
Studying. Measuring.
Dessa's gaze locked onto Draven's.
"Let's see what you fear, Draven."
The world lurched.
The arena vanished.
Draven's breath caught as the air around him twisted, colors bleeding into darkness. The roar of the crowd was swallowed whole, replaced by a suffocating silence broken only by his own heartbeat: slow, heavy, echoing like a drum inside his skull.
Cold stone pressed against his back.
He was no longer standing.
He was kneeling.
Chains of shadow wrapped around his limbs, biting into his skin. His wand lay shattered a few meters away, snapped clean in half. Mana refused to answer his call, every attempt to summon it ended in hollow emptiness.
Then he heard it.
A growl.
From the darkness ahead, something massive shifted. Glowing eyes opened: far too many, far too close. The air thickened with the stench of blood and rot.
Wounds reopened across his body, fresh and burning. His arms trembled under invisible weight. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stand.
The monster stepped closer.
Each footstep cracked the ground, the sound echoing endlessly. Its presence alone crushed his chest, stealing his breath. He felt the moment.
This was the instant of helplessness.
The moment before death.
Fear clawed into his mind, not sudden panic, but something deeper. Something cold and sinking. The certainty that no matter what he did, he would lose.
Not only an illusion, a forged memory sharpened into a weapon.
Draven's grip on his wand trembled in reality.
But then, something inside him stirred.
A slow, burning resistance.
"This isn't real," he muttered, teeth grinding.
The monster lunged, the illusion fractured.
Dark mist began to leak from Draven's body, spreading like smoke across the false dungeon.
[Soul Drain]
The shadows recoiled as the mist devoured them. The dungeon walls cracked, memories tearing apart as if consumed from within. The pressure on his chest loosened.
Dessa's eyes narrowed as her psychic grip weakened.
The illusion shattered completely.
"Tch..!"
She unleashed a telekinetic shockwave. Draven was hurled backward, his body skidding and rolling across the arena floor before coming to a halt. The dark mist scattered and vanished into the air.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
Draven pushed himself upright, brushing the blood from his lip. His expression was composed: steady, unbroken.
He lifted his wand skyward.
His breathing was slow and controlled, his gaze razor-sharp, untouched by doubt.
The arena responded.
The ground shuddered, not in chaos, but with a restrained tension, as though the world itself was pausing, bracing for what was about to be unleashed.
First came the fire.
Flames erupted around him in spiraling arcs, not wild, but controlled, burning with deep crimson intensity. Heat washed over the barrier, forcing spectators to shield their faces.
Then the wind roared.
A cyclone formed above him, tearing dust and debris into the sky. The air screamed as pressure climbed, compressing space itself.
Cracks split the arena floor.
From them surged water, rushing like veins bursting open. It coiled around the flames without extinguishing them, turning into scalding steam that hissed violently.
Finally, the earth answered.
Stone pillars burst upward, massive and jagged, circling Draven like ancient sentinels. The ground groaned under their weight, fragments floating as gravity bent under elemental force.
Four elements.
Perfect synchronization.
The crowd froze.
"All-element attack…" someone whispered, voice trembling.
Dessa's eyes widened.
She raised both hands, psychic power exploding outward as she tried to seize control of the storm. Invisible pressure collided with raw elemental dominance, the air warping violently between them.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Fire detonated against barriers.
Stone shattered into the sky.
Wind blades carved scars into the arena.
Dessa's telekinesis strained, veins standing out along her arms as her control began to slip.
Draven stepped forward.
The storm followed him.
Dark mist seeped from his body once more, creeping across the ground toward her.
"No...!" Dessa screamed as her knees buckled.
Her psychic grip fractured.
The elements collapsed inward: fire, water, wind, and earth compressing into a single overwhelming wave.
Draven brought his wand down.
The ground erupted, swallowing everything in a thick shroud of dust and mist.
As the dust finally settled, Dessa collapsed to her knees, lungs burning as she fought for air. Her psychic energy flickered weakly.
Draven lowered his wand. Burns marked his arm. Blood streaked his cheek.
But he stood.
The crowd erupted, chanting his name.
Dessa looked up, sweat dripping down her face.
"You really are stronger."
Draven exhaled and nodded.
"And you were terrifying. If my mind weren't stable, you would've beaten me."
He extended his hand and helped her stand.
The barrier dropped.
Sorin rushed toward them. "Are you alright?!"
Draven smiled brightly. "Lady Sorin, don't worry. We're fine."
Ignoring him, Sorin grabbed his hand and turned to Dessa.
"You're both injured. Come with me. Now."
Draven flushed instantly and avoided her gaze.
"T-Then… Please take care of us."
Dessa smirked. Through telepathy, her voice echoed in his mind.
{'I know you like her. To think you can't even look her in the eye.'}
{'Get out of my head,'} Draven snapped mentally. {'And stop talking nonsense. There's nothing like that.'}
{'If you say so,'} she replied calmly.
And with that, the duel ended.
But the echoes of power remained.