Then they scrambled back to their respective class sections as if they'd seen a ghost, drawing a wave of laughter and whispers from the crowd.
Ethan watched their fleeing backs, frowning slightly.
It seemed his reputation as the "Healing Maniac" was now firmly cemented.
Farming talents was only going to get harder from here on out.
His gaze drifted to the other arenas, searching for his next potential target, while his mind raced with new plans.
Hard crowd control?
No, the rules prohibited disabling injuries or overly restrictive skills.
Break their jaw every time they tried to speak?
That might work, but it wasn't foolproof. Even if they couldn't talk, they could still jump off the stage and surrender.
Break their legs too?
That wouldn't work either.
If they stayed down for ten seconds, the referee would call the match off.
He needed a way to keep them from surrendering easily—or at least make sure they didn't have the chance to.
As Ethan pondered, his hands kept moving, casting Heals on the contestants who'd just finished their matches without pause.
The third round ended quickly.
Seventy-five students remained for the fourth round.
And once again—Ethan got the bye.
When the announcement was made, the stands erupted into a chorus of boos and snickers, all loaded with meaning.
"Another bye? His luck is insane!"
"Wait a second—does anyone else think the referee team is trying to give him a free pass?"
"A free pass? Look at him—does he need one? He broke Kyle's will to fight!"
"If anything, I think the referee team is just trying to protect the other contestants."
"Fair point. Either way, I'm glad I don't have to face this lunatic on the arena."
In the distance, Kane and Lilian watched Ethan get two byes in a row, grinding their teeth with envy.
"Why is he so lucky? We're busting our asses out there fighting round after round, and he gets to sit out half the time after only four matches!"
Lilian fumed.
Especially since her opponent this round was an A-rank talent!
She might very well get eliminated right here and now.
Kane's expression was just as grim.
His opponent was also a formidable A-rank talent—with just the base boost from his Conceptual Armament, he doubted he could take the guy down.
But if he activated his Triple Enhancement, how would he handle his next match?
Stressed by their tough opponents, the two channeled all their frustration into cursing Ethan.
As for Ethan himself, he was ninety percent annoyed by getting two byes in a row.
A bye meant one less chance to steal a talent.
One bye was bad enough—but two in a row?
This had to be rigged!
Ethan headed back to Class 7's corner, where his homeroom teacher Arnold was analyzing opponents' intel for the other students.
Seeing Ethan storm over with a scowl, Arnold paused his lecture, adjusted his glasses, and gave him a half-amused, half-knowing smile.
"What, upset about the byes?"
Arnold asked proactively.
"Arnold, am I being singled out for special treatment?"
Ethan cut straight to the chase, his voice laced with obvious irritation.
"The odds of getting two byes in a row are way too low for this to be random."
At the sound of juicy gossip, the other Class 7 students snuck closer to listen in.
"Shoo! Beat it! Some of you still have matches to fight later!"
Arnold waved his hand to shoo away the curious onlookers.
"Teacher, teacher! I don't have a match—I wanna listen!"
Bored out of her mind, Ella piped up, squeezing her way over.
Glancing at Ella's "I need all the tea" face, Arnold sighed in resignation, unable to chase her away. He lowered his voice.
"It's not exactly special treatment, but there were some considerations."
He adjusted his glasses again before continuing.
"The Municipal Education Bureau is sending observers to this tournament. The school wants to showcase exciting, high-quality duels—matches that truly reflect the students' strength and potential."
"And your fighting style…"
Arnold hesitated, choosing his words carefully, "is a bit… unique. It's not exactly easy on the eyes, nor is it particularly educational to watch."
"The organizing committee evaluated the situation and decided spacing out your matches would give the other contestants more time to mentally prepare. It also prevents the tournament's rhythm from being disrupted too much."
Ethan's frown deepened.
"That's the reason?"
"Isn't that reason enough?"
Arnold laughed, equal parts amused and exasperated.
"Right now, you're basically a walking psychological trauma for the other contestants. A couple of byes to give everyone a breather—it's for the best, trust me."
Ella, who'd been listening in, couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.
She poked Ethan's arm with the hilt of her sword.
"Wow, Ethan! You're so scary the organizing committee had to adjust the tournament schedule just for you!"
"It's better than not getting to fight at all," Ethan shot back flatly, shooting her a sidelong glance.
Ella's smile froze. She bared her teeth at him, furious.
"This is all your fault! If you're so tough, why don't you fight me one-on-one right now?!"
Ethan's eyes lit up with interest.
He'd been coveting Ella's talent for ages.
Given her personality, she'd never surrender easily in a fight.
He might even be able to copy her talent in a single match!
Without hesitation, Ethan cast a Heal on her.
A glance at her updated stats popped up in his mind:
Ella
Class: Bloodthirsty Berserker
Talent: Blood Ignition (S-rank)
Skills: Bloodlust, Blood Fury, Blood Blade Slash, Blood Shadow Step
Equipment: Life Guardian, Blade of the Unseen, Boots of the Windseeker
'I severely underestimated her strength before,' Ethan realized with a jolt. 'With her gear, she has 3,000 HP—and a single slash that can deal 15,000 damage. She could one-shot Kyle with that!'
Ethan did a quick mental calculation.
Even with his current stats, he wouldn't survive that slash.
If he'd managed to copy Kyle's talent, maybe—but not now.
True, his speed was far superior to Ella's, and she'd never hit him in a fair fight.
But her Blood Blade Slash was a homing skill!
Dodging wouldn't help against a lock-on attack—he couldn't outrun it no matter how fast he was.
"Forget it. I'm not gonna bother with you," Ethan said, looking away nonchalantly, as if he hadn't been itching to fight her a second ago.
"Hmph! Just admit you're scared!"
Ella puffed out her chest like a triumphant rooster, tilting her chin up proudly—but a faint flicker of disappointment flashed in her eyes.
She'd actually been looking forward to fighting this mysterious, overpowered weirdo, to see just how far his limits stretched.
"Alright, cut it out, you two," Arnold sighed, shaking his head at their bickering.
"Ethan, you don't need to fight extra rounds to prove your strength. Since you've got byes, take the time to observe the other matches—especially the S-rank and top-tier A-rank contestants. Gathering intel never hurts. Those guys are no pushovers."
Ethan nodded slightly. Arnold had a point—an army marches on its stomach, and intelligence comes before supplies.
But intel was the last thing he was short on.
He'd healed every single contestant in the arena.
Ethan knew these students better than they knew themselves—except, of course, for their deepest secrets.
And if any of them tried to pull a fast one later, a quick Heal would give him all the updated info he needed.
As the number of contestants dwindled, the later rounds progressed at a breakneck pace.
The fourth round only required three batches of matches to finish.
While Ethan had been chatting with his teacher, the first batch of fights was already over.
When he glanced back at the arenas, he just in time to see Lilian get blasted off her feet and crash to the ground.
Lilian's opponent was an A-rank talent Rock Warrior with incredible defenses. Her Holy Light Orbs barely scratched him.
After a few exchanges, he'd caught her off guard with a devastating Rock Fist to the stomach, sending her flying like a broken kite to crash against the arena's edge.
Agonizing pain wracked her body, soaking her clothes with cold sweat.
She tried to struggle to her feet, but the pain and exhaustion forced her back down.
Overwhelming shame and fear of failure threatened to break her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Ethan watching from the stands—his gaze seemed mocking, and she felt like she was going to spit blood from rage.
It's all his fault!
If it weren't for Ethan, she wouldn't have messed up! She wouldn't have lost this humiliatingly!
Yes! It's all Ethan's fault!
This irrational resentment gave her a target for her anger—but it did nothing to change her fate.
The referee had already started counting down.
"Seven… eight… nine…"
Lilian listened to the countdown, powerless to rise.
She could only watch helplessly as her opponent approached, ready to deliver the finishing blow.
Her eyes filled with unwillingness and hatred, but in the end, she closed them in despair, accepting defeat.
"Ten! Match over! Winner—Shi Lei, Grade 12 Class 5!" The referee's voice rang out, sealing her fate.
The stands erupted into applause for the winner, mixed with snickers and jeers directed at Lilian.
"Pfft! That's it? She was so cocky when she was winning earlier!"
A boy crossed his arms, his voice loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, drawing a chorus of snickers.
"Tell me about it! Look at her face—like the whole world owes her something. Total joke."
"She's totally lost her cool, huh? Clearly never been put through the wringer before. Can't handle a little adversity."
The jeers were quiet, but they wormed their way into her ears like devilish whispers—hurting far more than Shi Lei's Rock Fist ever had.
Ethan saw the venomous glare she shot him, but he couldn't have cared less.
She was as good as dead to him.
His gaze quickly shifted to the other arenas—locking onto the seventh stage where Kane was fighting.
Kane's luck was clearly just as terrible. His opponent this round was an A-rank talent Thunderstorm Elementalist.
The air above the seventh arena felt thick and heavy, tinged with the faint scent of ozone.
"What's wrong? Is that all an S-rank talent can do?"
The Thunderstorm Elementalist's voice dripped with hoarse mockery, trying to goad Kane into losing his cool.
Kane stood in the center of the arena, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
The armor formed by his Conceptual Armament was charred in several places, and the tips of his hair were singed from the lightning strikes.
Opposite him, the Thunderstorm Elementalist was surrounded by crackling arcs of electricity, like a god of thunder incarnate.
"S-rank talent, and all you can do is run and hide?"
The Elementalist taunted again, conjuring two blazing lightning orbs in his palms.
The audience shook their heads in disappointment.
"He's so bad! Is this the weakest S-rank talent ever?"
"Conceptual Armament sounds so cool, but his performance is just… mediocre."
"Mediocre? Have you forgotten how he stole that boss from Zhang Xin earlier?!"
The speaker clearly knew all about Kane's dirty little secret.
The jeers and mocking laughter flooded Kane's ears—but his eyes only grew sharper, colder.
Suddenly, an invisible energy field rippled outward from his body.
Kane's stats skyrocketed instantly, and a faint white glow enveloped him.
Triple Enhancement!
This was his hidden trump card—one he'd planned to save for the finals, but now he had no choice but to use it early.
"Finally getting serious, huh?" The Thunderstorm Elementalist cackled. "Let's see what you've got then!"
"As you wish," Kane's voice was cold as iron.
The next second, his figure vanished without a trace.
Not teleportation—his speed had skyrocketed to levels beyond the naked eye's ability to track!
The Thunderstorm Elementalist's pupils shrank to pinpricks. He hastily erected a lightning shield around himself.
But it was too late—Kane materialized at his left side, throwing a devastating punch.
BOOM!
The shield shuddered violently before shattering into countless sparks.