After my match with Nicholas, the other rounds concluded swiftly. The crowd buzzed as the crystal display above the arena shimmered with new fixtures:
Quarterfinals
• 1st Rank: Nadia Lane vs 2nd Rank: Raul Desmond
• 3rd Rank: Natasha Lane vs 4th Rank: Liam Dexter
• 5th Rank: Ryan Preacher vs 6th Rank: William Laurel
I stepped back onto the stage, my body still humming with residual mana from the last fight.
Across from me stood Ryan Preacher—tall, broad-shouldered, his halberd resting easily against his shoulder like it belonged there. His calm expression hid the weight of his confidence, but the sharp gleam in his eyes betrayed his intent.
He wasn't here to win.
He was here to crush anyone who stood in his way.
I'd watched his previous match against James—one that should've been close. It wasn't. James's unique skill, Combat Intuition, usually allowed him to read an opponent's next move like an open book. But against Ryan, it hadn't helped at all. Ryan made him look slow.
And now, I understood why he looked so sure of himself.
Still, I stepped forward, expression calm. The referee raised a hand—
Beep.
The match began.
Ryan moved first—an explosion of speed and strength. His halberd came down in a sweeping arc, air cracking under its force. I instinctively activated Perception—and felt nothing.
My breath caught.
It didn't activate.
No feedback, no resistance—just silence.
Before panic could take root, I focused inward and triggered Mana Sense instead.
Something changed.
No longer did I see the flow of mana through light or color. I felt it. The world vibrated with subtle pressure shifts, with disturbances that marked where mana began and ended. It was like stepping into a new sense altogether—alien, but strangely natural.
Ryan's halberd was already at my throat.
"Move!"
My body reacted on instinct. A faint shimmer crossed my outline as Dodge activated automatically. My movements blurred just enough to slip under the descending blade. The strike missed by inches, grazing my hand. Pain flared, but I stayed grounded.
I didn't wait to recover.
[Lux]
Golden motes burst into being—one, two, ten, nineteen. They spun behind me like a constellation, each humming with light.
The crowd murmured. Confused. Disbelieving.
He's wasting mana. What's he doing?
Even Ryan paused, smirking. He started to circle me, halberd spinning lazily.
"Just give up," he called out, voice dripping with amusement. "Your unique skill's dead in the water, and you panicked—dumped all your mana into pretty fireworks."
He grinned wider, eyes gleaming with condescension. "Don't worry. Happens to the best of us."
So he was the reason Perception failed.
My voice stayed calm. "I'm not scared." I tilted my head, eyes locked on his. "Maybe it's you who's scared."
His smirk twitched.
Bad idea.
He lunged—faster, angrier. His weapon became a blur of steel and wind. I dodged again, but the cut on my hand burned, the pain stealing a fraction of focus. The world tilted slightly.
Then I felt it. The mana around him warped.
He was casting.
"Not again…"
Five black chains erupted from my shadow, snaking upward and coiling tight around my limbs. I knew this one.
Shadow Bind.
His version took the form of chains. I'd studied the spell back in the library; I could almost hear the incantation forming in my mind.
Ryan approached slowly, each step echoing with confidence. "You wasted mana on light shows," he said, his tone low and mocking. "Now I'll show you how a real spell looks."
He never realized the orbs had moved—drifting behind him like silent predators.
"Hastae."
Two spears flared to life.
The first struck his back with a crack of thunder and light. He screamed, stumbling forward, instinctively turning toward the source—
The second hit his thigh with brutal precision.
His stance collapsed. The chains dissolved.
I stepped forward, movement fluid, dagger gleaming.
Veiled Stride.
The crowd gasped as I blurred, reappearing just inside his guard. My blade pressed lightly against his throat.
Match over.
The referee's voice broke the silence. "Winner—William Laurel!"
The arena erupted.
Healers rushed to us. Warm light washed over my wounds as the pain faded. Ryan was healed, too, but his eyes were wide—disbelief replacing arrogance.
As I turned to leave, nine of my Lux Orbs still hovered behind me like a silent escort. I didn't dismiss them.
The other matches ended quickly. Raul Desmond defeated Nadia Lane, securing his place in the finals. Nadia took 3rd Rank for her performance.
The crystal display updated again:
Final Fixtures
• Raul Desmond (1st) vs —
• Liam Dexter vs William Laurel (Winner: 2nd Rank, Loser: 4th)
• Natasha Lane vs Ryan Preacher (Winner: 5th Rank, Loser: 6th)
Natasha and Ryan fought next.
That's when the truth came out. Ryan's overwhelming pressure wasn't just skill or brute force—it was his unique ability: Null Zone.
It disabled an opponent's unique skill for five minutes—three charges, each with a five-hour cooldown.
It explained everything—why James had lost; he was disoriented without Combat Intuition and couldn't react properly. But when my Perception went dead, why was Mana Sense different? There was no visual feedback, just a vague sensation—a feeling without certainty, like trying to grasp shapes in the dark.
But Ryan had burned through his charges already.
When the match began, he took one look at Natasha's calm, calculating stance—and surrendered.
The crowd was stunned.
With that, Natasha secured 5th Rank, Ryan dropped to 6th, and all that remained was my match.
Liam Dexter versus William Laurel.
Winner takes 2nd Rank—and a shot at Raul Desmond.
Loser falls to 4th, and faces Nadia Lane.
I stepped forward, mana pulsing steady in my veins.
No more games.