The Elementalist was sent staggering backward several steps, his face a mask of pure shock.
"How is that possible?! How can you be this fast?!"
He roared in disbelief.
Kane gave him no chance to recover, launching a relentless barrage of attacks.
In less than a few seconds, he'd sent the Elementalist flying off the arena!
The stands erupted into thunderous cheers.
"Holy shit! Is this the true power of an S-rank talent?!"
"That's insane! Took him less than three seconds to completely dominate the guy and finish the fight!"
"Was he holding back earlier?"
"W-winner—Kane, Grade 12 Class 7!"
The referee stared in stunned silence for a second before snapping back to his senses and making the announcement.
Kane stood on the arena, basking in the awe and cheers pouring from the stands, his chest heaving with exertion.
He took a deep breath, then his eyes drifted involuntarily to Ethan's direction—his gaze sharp with provocation and vindictive satisfaction.
See? This is what true S-rank dominance looks like!
Not your cheap, underhanded tricks!
Ethan caught his gaze, but only gave him a lazy once-over before shooting a Heal his way.
This blatant disregard was like a bucket of cold water dousing Kane's newfound sense of superiority, leaving him simmering with frustration.
"Hmph!"
Kane snorted, forcing down his anger.
He turned on his heel and strode off the arena.
Now wasn't the time for petty grudges.
He needed to recover from his stamina depletion quickly—otherwise, he'd be in no shape for the next round.
The fourth round came to an end one after another, eliminating over thirty more contestants.
The atmosphere in the arena grew tenser by the minute—only the absolute elite remained.
"Fifth round draw—begin!"
The referee's voice boomed through the loudspeakers, echoing across the entire stadium.
The remaining thirty-eight contestants turned their eyes to the big screen.
Names flashed and paired up at lightning speed.
Ethan found his name—and his opponent.
"Class 7, Ethan vs. Class 3, Alaric!"
A murmur of excitement rippled through the stands.
"Alaric? That A-rank talent Wind Shadow Assassin?"
"The one with the insane speed? This is gonna be good!"
"Ethan's speed is ridiculous too—it's a battle of speedsters!"
"Alaric's speed and attack power are top-notch, but he's super squishy. Wonder if he can survive one hit from Ethan's staff…"
Ethan's gaze shifted to Class 3's corner, where a lean, sharp-eyed boy with the piercing gaze of an eagle stood up, a slender rapier strapped to his back.
He seemed to feel Ethan's stare, locking eyes with him across the arena—his gaze burning with fighting spirit, not a hint of fear in sight.
"Good. He's got guts," Ethan thought approvingly.
"Looks like he wasn't scared off by the earlier matches."
This was exactly the type of opponent Ethan loved—proud, and far too stubborn to surrender easily.
Unlike that blowhard Kyle, with his fancy "Iron Wall" nickname.
The guy's mental fortitude was thinner than tissue paper—he'd surrendered before Ethan even had a chance to copy his talent.
Pathetic.
Truly hopeless.
The two stepped onto the arena.
The referee glanced between them, going through the motions. "Both contestants ready?"
Alaric took a deep breath, his body tensing slightly as he rested his hand on his sword hilt.
He looked like a drawn bowstring—coiled with explosive energy, ready to strike at any moment.
"I'm ready," he said, his voice steady.
Ethan just nodded, twirling his staff casually in his hand.
"Match—start!"
The referee's voice had barely faded when Alaric's figure blurred into a streak of light!
SWISH!
Almost before the words had finished echoing, a sharp gust of wind sliced through the air, the tip of Alaric's rapier aimed straight at Ethan's face!
Fast!
Incredibly fast!
Unlike Ethan's ghostly, evasive movements and close-quarters tactics, Alaric's speed was all about linear bursts and lightning-fast, piercing strikes!
Wind Lance Thrust!
Ethan's body leaned back slightly, narrowly dodging the attack.
But Alaric's sword was already changing direction—the tip grazed Ethan's shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood.
"He's hurt! So Ethan's speed does have a limit after all!"
"I thought Ethan was faster than Alaric, but I guess we overestimated him."
"For a Priest to have this kind of speed is already a miracle—how could he possibly be faster than a Wind Shadow Assassin?"
"Now Ethan won't dare mess around and cast Heals on Alaric, right?!"
The audience perked up at the sight of Ethan bleeding—watching a so-called "god" fall from grace was a guilty pleasure for many.
"Hah! This guy's been putting on an act this whole time, tricking everyone into thinking he's some invincible monster. Turns out even an A-rank talent can make him show his true colors!"
Kane felt a surge of relief at the sight, sneering loudly.
He conveniently forgot how he'd been pushed to the brink by an A-rank talent just moments ago.
"Yes! Way to go, Alaric! Ethan, you love showing off so much—let's see how cocky you are when you lose!"
Lilian cheered loudly, as if Ethan's defeat would erase the memory of her own humiliating loss.
On the arena:
"I got him!"
Alaric's heart leaped with joy—but the next second, his elation froze.
Ethan's body seemed weightless, drifting backward with the wind from the sword strike.
The tiny cut on his shoulder didn't even have time to bleed properly before a soft white glow descended on him.
[Heal]
The wound closed instantly, as if it had never existed at all.
"You're fast," Ethan said flatly, stating an objective fact. "But not fast enough."
Alaric's heart skipped a beat.
The other man didn't even care about his attack!
This utter, complete disdain was more infuriating than any insult could ever be.
But Alaric didn't lose his temper—this had been exactly what he'd expected.
He'd studied Ethan's previous two matches carefully.
While Ethan's strength was undeniably impressive, Alaric had spotted a small—but crucial—flaw.
Ethan only had healing skills. No purification abilities whatsoever!
And Alaric just so happened to possess a power that could suppress healing.
Wind of Judgment (Passive): Wind Shadow Assassin attacks apply the Wind Laceration debuff, reducing all healing the target receives by 15% for 5 seconds. This effect can stack up to 5 times.
His plan was simple: suppress Ethan's healing with Wind Laceration, then deal damage faster than Ethan could regenerate it!
Alaric's eyes hardened with resolve. He wasted no time.
His figure blurred again—not retreating in a straight line, but circling Ethan at blinding speed, whipping up howling gusts of wind around the arena.
One strike, then vanish into the wind.
This was the Wind Shadow Assassin's way of fighting!
Alaric's form split into a dozen afterimages, swirling around Ethan so fast it was impossible to tell which was real.
"His speed is insane!"
"I can't even see his real body!"
"Ethan's in trouble now! He's not faster than Alaric, and he can't track his movements—he's gonna be a sitting duck!"
Ethan stood rooted to the spot, his staff still held casually in his hand, his gaze seeming unfocused—as if he'd spaced out.
"Now!"
As Alaric circled, he spotted his opening—Ethan's momentary distraction.
He pushed off the ground hard, the arena floor cracking slightly under his feet.
His body shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow, his speed three times faster than before!
Shadow Piercer!
The tip of his rapier glowed with highly compressed wind energy, whistling sharply as it stabbed straight at Ethan's chest!
This strike harnessed all the wind elements around him, triggering his talent's passive bonus damage effect!
Even if it wasn't a killing blow, he was confident it would deal heavy damage—and stack multiple Wind Laceration debuffs in an instant!
In the stands, Kane held his breath.
Lilian clenched her fists tightly, eagerly anticipating the sight of Ethan lying wounded on the ground.
The Shadow Piercer struck true, sinking deep into Ethan's shoulder.
-1021!
A bright red damage number floated above Ethan's head.
Alaric's heart surged with triumph.
I hit him!
A thousand points of damage!
A bit less than his expected 1,200, but it didn't matter.
He refused to believe a mere Priest could have thousands of HP.
A few more hits like this, and he'd take Ethan down for sure!
Alaric pulled his rapier free and tried to retreat back into the wind—but a staff suddenly appeared out of nowhere, cutting off his escape.
Ethan's movements were a blur—he struck Alaric repeatedly, casting Heals after each hit. By the time Alaric finally broke free, he'd been hit and healed five times in a row.
Alaric stumbled back to a safe distance, dazed and confused.
Hadn't Ethan been distracted just now?
How could his attack speed be this fast?!
But when he glanced down at his HP bar, he let out a sigh of relief.
Still full!
'Perfect. If he insists on this stupid hit-and-heal routine, I'll just trade damage with him and drag this into a war of attrition!'
Having landed two solid hits on Ethan, Alaric's confidence soared.
A few seconds later, Alaric spotted another opening while Ethan seemed distracted—and struck again with Shadow Piercer, landing the hit cleanly.
And once again, Ethan retaliated with five hits and Heals before Alaric could escape back into the wind.
Alaric blinked in confusion, the same thought echoing in his mind:
This feels familiar…
Was Ethan faking that distraction on purpose—to bait him into attacking?
He couldn't keep up with Alaric's speed, so he was using Alaric's attack windows to strike back…
Realization dawned in Alaric's eyes.
But one question still nagged at him.
If Ethan couldn't keep up with his speed and had no guarantee of winning, why was he still casting Heals on him?
Was it just to humiliate him?
Alaric shook his head, deciding not to overthink it.
He charged again, launching attack after attack.
Alaric struck with Shadow Piercer.
Ethan retaliated with five hits and Heals.
Round after round.
The duel had devolved into a bizarre turn-based game.
Alaric considered giving up several times—but each time he noticed Ethan's healing efficiency dropping slightly, a flicker of hope reignited in his chest, spurring him on to fight harder.
Finally—
On Alaric's eleventh attack.
Ethan spun around, dodging the Shadow Piercer with ease, then casually swatted Alaric off the arena with his staff.
The entire stadium fell silent for a beat, stunned into disbelief.
Alaric twisted his body mid-air, stumbling awkwardly as he hit the ground outside the arena's bounds. His face was a mask of utter shock.
Until the very end, he'd truly believed he still had a chance to win.
But in the end, he'd been defeated just like that—with a single, casual swat?
"What just happened? Did Alaric jump off the arena on his own?"
"I didn't see a thing! One second Alaric was attacking, the next Ethan just… flicked him away?"
The referee stared in shock for a moment before quickly recovering and making the announcement.
"Winner—Ethan, Grade 12 Class 7!"
Ethan stepped down from the arena, a smile of satisfaction spreading across his face as he checked the new talent he'd just acquired.
Wind Aegis (A-rank): Movement speed increased by 50%.
Wind elemental skill effects increased by 50%.
When entering Wind Stealth state, movement speed increases by an additional 100%, wind elemental skill effects increase by an additional 100%, and gain a 15% chance to dodge attacks (chance decreases by 1% for each level the opponent has over you).
This was Alaric's A-rank talent!
The only downside was that Ethan didn't know any Wind Stealth skills—so he could only use the talent's basic passive effects for now.
'So it's confirmed—showing weakness, giving opponents the illusion that they can stage a comeback, prevents them from surrendering prematurely.'
Ethan nodded to himself in approval.
This "feigned weakness" strategy had worked flawlessly against Alaric.
Alaric's speed was impressive—but it still paled in comparison to Ethan's.
To everyone else in the stadium, Alaric's attacks had been nothing but a blur—but to Ethan, they'd seemed slow, almost sluggish.
If he'd wanted to dodge, Alaric never would have even grazed his clothes.