Karin, who was already boiling with fury towards Franz, recognized that this was the ideal moment to release everything. At the commencement of the game, she came forward, baring her ominous sword with a dead, lifeless tranquility. Franz took up his position, poised to exchange blows—until Karin vanished.
Ten seconds elapsed. There was simply nothing but quiet in the arena.
The audience rustled in confusion. Even the announcer stuttered. "D-due to the opponent seeming to retreat, Fran—"
Then Franz twitched. He couldn't move his legs. Something was holding him down. His eyes flashed to the ground—delicate, nearly invisible strands coiled in close loops around his ankles. Before he could fight, Karin reappeared as a specter, knife already cutting. He deflected with his sword just in time but still staggered from the blow.
Gasps echoed through the arena.
Franz snarled, bursting his qi to tear the threads apart and leapt back. He was furious now, charging at strength and power. Their blades clashed in a blinding flash, the impact flinging them both back into the stadium. They both puffed and wheezed.
And then, Franz smiled.
A magic rune danced on the floor beneath Karin's feet—intricate patterns emanating from the floor. Before she could do anything, the rune flashed to life, and Franz cried out across the arena:
"Divine Judgment."
A choking pressure pressed down on her like mad gravity. Karin gritted her teeth, falling to one knee. But she was far from done.
She rammed her sword into the ground. It hummed with unbridled power. Black, armor-sheathing qi covered her body. The moment she rose to her feet, even Franz's face changed in astonishment. Her aura crackled like contained lightning.
Franz didn't hesitate.
"Divergent Mode."
Sacred qi surrounded him like light itself. His sword twisted and grew into a resplendent greatsword. Both fighters charged. Their collision released a shockwave of qi that rattled the foundations of the stadium.
After the dust settled, Franz was standing—slightly bruised but standing. Karin, pushed back, fought to stand. Her breathing was ragged. Her body hurt. But defeat was not in her blood.
She managed one shaky step forward.
Then—
BOOM.
A blast shook the arena floor between them. Wind and dust howled through the crowd, sending even the announcer stumbling backward.
Karin blinked.
Through the haze, she saw him.
The broad shoulders. The unmistakable stance.
Isshin Ryugen.
Her heart plummeted. Not out of fear, but shock.
Isshin stood between them, facing away from her, hair blowing in the lingering gust.
Before the moment could sink in, his voice boomed with the strength of thunder:
"I, Isshin Ryugen, will have Franz Zeldyr executed for attempted murder of Isshin Ryugen."
There were gasps among the audience. Franz's acquired facsimile crumbled.
"You son of a bitch!" he shouted, fury contorting his face as he charged. "Go on and try it!"
Their blades clashed—Franz with his well-honed sword and Isshin with one crackling with thunder qi. Sparks erupted from their impact as Franz took a step back, staggering, bewildered by Isshin's brute strength.
Isshin squinted his eyes closed and used his system. Nascent Soul Realm, Fourth Stage. Franz was powerful—but he no longer matched.
Thunder qi flared across Isshin's body as he vanished in a flash. Franz could only lift his sword in time, gritting his teeth as each strike quaked his arms. He was behind.
Meanwhile, chaos ignited in the stands. Teachers shouted over each other, some demanding the match be stopped, others urging it to continue. The Headmaster hesitated—but ultimately gave the signal to let the battle proceed.
This was no longer just a tournament. This was justice.
Isshin glanced at Karin, helping her to her feet. Her eyes widened, searching his face for answers.
"Move back. It'll get dangerous. I'll explain later," Isshin said quietly.
Karin stepped back, conflicted, still reeling from his return.
Franz's anger boiled over.
"DIVERGENT AGENT: NOX!"
A divine wyvern—gigantic and radiant—materialized in a blinding flash of light. Its wingspan covered the entire stadium. With a screaming bellow, it charged up qi in its jaws and let it loose in a dazzling beam.
Isshin raised his arm and parried it, skidding back a bit but otherwise unharmed. His eyes narrowed. He had to stop this.
He steadied his breathing. Shut his eyes.
"Thunder Domain: Raijin's Wrath."
The skies darkened. Thunder boomed down from the heavens, reverberating like war drums. A massive storm cloud churned, lightning shattering the sky. The temperature dropped. The air charged.
A divine spear flared to life in Isshin's hand. He turned it lazily—faster, and faster, until it was a blur of raw destruction. When the spearhead struck the earth, the sky burst. A thunder dragon of enormous size—Raijin himself, or half of him—dropped with monarchical rage behind Isshin, his essence choking the battlefield.
Franz's wyvern trembled, senses ablaze with terror. But Franz bellowed and bade the charge.
Raijin intercepted it in the air. Thunder crashed down like monsoon rains as wyvern and dragon clashed in a furious, glorious fight in the air. Teeth bared, lightning flashing off his person, Raijin enshrouded the holy wyvern and bit down.
As a final clap of thunder, the soul of the wyvern was gone—its strength bursting like an exploding star. Franz gasped in shock, blood spouting from his lips.
"No—NO! Don't come near me!" he pleaded, stumbling back.
But Isshin said nothing.
He spun his spear once and hurled it.
The weapon pierced through the air like divine judgment—striking Franz in the chest. Silence fell.
Franz crumpled.
Gasps echoed. Then chaos.
Some teachers rushed toward Isshin, blades drawn. Others stepped between them, weapons raised in defense.
"You're protecting a murderer?!" one of them roared.
"You're attacking without an investigation!" another snapped back.
The battle was about to break out—until a gentle but unyielding voice cut through the cacophony.
"Silence."
The principal had arrived.
The air itself gasped in breath.
By his side stood Khalid—and one teacher who had been too silent for too long. The man trembled like a leaf as Khalid gestured towards him.
"This man witnessed what happened in the cave."
The teacher stepped forward, voice frail but distinct.
"I… I saw Franz shove Isshin. I was forced to stay silent, his family—"
A stir of unease circulated through the crowd.
Franz. Where's the proof?. arose a seething growl.
Leaping down from the skies was a white-blazing armored figure—Franz's older brother, radiating divine qi. He appeared ready to kill.
But the principal raised his hand. "We will conduct a divine truth test.".
A priest came, holy. Calm and serene, he asked but one question:
"Did Franz Zeldyr push Isshin Ryugen into the cave with malice aforethought?"
The teacher swallowed. "Yes."
The priest paused. Then nodded.
"He is telling the truth."
Murmers rose. Franz's brother balled his fists, seething. Hefted his brother's body, gave Isshin one final poisonous glare.
"I'll kill you someday."
Isshin glared him back calmly.
"You ain't all that."
With that, Franz's brother vanished into the clouds.
The storm passed.
The storm broke up, leaving only silence and the faint crackle of dying thunder. The battlefield was darkened, but peace settled in.
Rune and Karin reached Isshin. Karin stared at him, eyes wide, before taking him into a quick, tight hug. She didn't say anything, and he didn't either. There was nothing to say—he was alive, and that was all that needed to be said.
The announcer, visibly shaken, struggled to regain composure. "With Franz Zeldyr beaten, the competition will proceed to the final match: Isshin Ryugen against Rune Kazehaya."
Rune stepped forward. "I forfeit."
A hum of puzzlement moved through the spectators.
"I am already fatigued from my last match," Rune went on. "And I can do no better than what we've just seen."
The officials faltered, then yielded.
Isshin Ryugen, tournament champion this year," the announcer declared.
The crowd reaction was not cheers, but gasps of stunned amazement at all that had been seen. Isshin did not blink, did not move. He had not considered glory or reward. He only sensed the wind, smelled the breeze, and hesitated for a moment to savor the raw existence of merely being alive.