CHAPTER 75: [ RESULTS ]

Alexander waved his staff around with his left hand.

A new tendril lashed out, Hunter unable to block its strike with his sword.

It pushed him backward, he rolled on the ground several times until he finally came to a step next to his team.

He didn’t let go of his sword, slowly raising to his knees using it as a crutch while he kept his eyes up.

He wasn’t looking at Alexander’s body anymore, he matched his gaze. And through that stare, Alexander witnessed it: the fire still burning within.

Slowly, he got up on both feet, and started walking toward Alexander one step at a time.

He barely held his sword upright, it was shaking in his hand, matching his legs that could barely walk.

"Pathetic," said Alexander.

His words echoed in the stadium, yet he didn’t hear them.

The crowd, the commentator, the officials—they were all tuned out. The only thing he could pay attention to was his opponent before him.

Hunter slowly came to a stop, planting both feet in the ground while forcing himself to stand upright. His torso bent slightly backward, his arrogant stance trying to look down on him.

"Pathetic?! You’re a cultist! If you didn’t have a forbidden class..."

Alexander scoffed.

"If I didn’t have a forbidden class what? You would’ve won this four against one?"

Hunter spat on the ground, rubbing his face with his sleeve to wipe some of the blood on his lips.

"You need cheats to win. I’ll prove all you need is hard work," he replied, rage flashing through his face.

"Hard work? Your pride made you leave your team behind, look at them."

Hunter didn’t even flinch, refusing to look away.

Alexander shook his head, a true disappointed look on his face.

"If you worked with them, maybe then you’d have a chance. You’re too arrogant to see your own weakness, you’d never win."

"We’ll see about that..." replied Hunter.

"Shah has been held by my tendril for a moment now, yet the only person with a sword just can’t stop a moment to think."

Hunter defiantly raised his sword toward Alexander once more, wobbling on his feet.

"A cultist..."

Another tendril sent him flying, sliding on his back several meters.

He remained there for a short moment, before trying to get back up again.

The fire in his eyes hadn’t died down, if anything, it burned brighter.

"I see the fire in your eyes, but it made you blind. Even when I throw you right next to your bound teammates, you won’t take the time to try and free even one of them. You don’t deserve them."

Hunter’s face twitched, clinking repeatedly echoing through the stage as he barely held his sword straight.

His eyes that stared into Alexander’s faltered, before slowly looking right next to him.

There they were, all three of them.

They were groaning in pain, Tricia had passed out while Silver gritted his teeth, his mind fighting a losing battle against Alexander’s ritual.

Shah was still tightly held by the tendril, the pressure crushing her made every breath painful.

For the first time, Hunter’s legs faltered, his knee touching the ground.

He used his sword as a pillar, finally turning to face Shah.

"Yeah. That’s the right thing to do. But it’s too late."

Hunter got back up once more, unstable on his feet.

He simply refused to stop or go down.

Something Alexander admired.

Silver was lucky to have such teammates, and with enough work they might become stronger.

Silver was level-headed, and as a tactician he was pretty good. His focus was perfect and his team could rely on him.

Having Shah cast that spell was the right call, he completely understood the visual aspect of Alexander.

He had Hunter pressure him, while Tricia supported him by controlling the battlefield. Shah did an excellent job supporting Tricia, and Silver kept them safe throughout the fight.

Hunter was the perfect attack dog, a dog that simply couldn’t let go of the bone.

With a little work and more experience, they would be a formidable team.

Just not one that could defeat him.

Alexander raised his hand toward Hunter, before the loud and strident sound of a buzzer echoed through the arena.

The muted background surged into the foreground, the announcer, the crowd, the world, rushing back in.

"...Aaaand the winner is... The Cultist! Veil!"

The crowd went wild, the booming cheers, the whistling, the stomping.

Officials ran on the stage with stretchers, the referee also making his way toward Alexander.

"Let go, it’s over," he said.

As if snapping back to reality, Alexander let go of his spells.

The tendrils retracted to the dark abyss they came from, while the chain quickly reeled back through every rift that had been opened.

Silver fell to his knees before being caught by one of the officials. He was laid down on a stretcher, Shah and Tricia leaving the stage in a similar fashion.

He watched them leave, Hunter fighting with the officials to walk by himself.

Slowly, his eyes returned to normal, his hold on [ Witness of All Paths ] fading.

The rune on his chest burned like a brand, his head spinning as he could hear loud strikes in the distance, like wardrums being played.

Despite his blurry vision he could tell the person to his right was Sunder, his arm wrapped around him, holding him up with a bright smile.

He could hear Stella’s outraged voice, complaining about the rune on his chest while Sunder’s mocking tone argued back.

The cheering, clapping, and restless crowd was just a fuzzy mix of color and noise.

Words came out of the speakers but besides his own name he barely understood a single sentence.

He felt the rim of a bottle pressed against his lips, held by Sunder who seemed to nod while telling him to drink, while healers complained in the background.

He went with the flow, yet through it all, all he could focus on was those eldritch eyes gazing at him from the dark distance.