A wave of mixed reactions rippled through the crowd.
From my seat, I immediately glanced toward Kaela’s kin in the spectator stands. The three remaining Ash warriors were on their feet, extremely furious. If looks could kill, Marcel would have died several times. One of the males clenched his fists so tightly that the veins along his arms bulged, clearly on the verge of leaping down into the arena.
However, before any of them could make a reckless move, Kaela stepped in front of them and blocked their path. Despite restraining them, a dense killing intent radiated from her in suffocating waves. Even from this distance, I could feel it pressing against the air. Her golden eyes were locked onto Marcel, as though looking at prey.
Still, she was smart enough to hold her ground. If her kin had charged into the arena to attack Marcel, they would have been immediately disqualified. However furious she might have been, Kaela understood that acting now would only cost them more, and they should settle this grudge through the match.
Soon, the next match began without incident, and this time it was Kaela’s turn. She had been paired against a Gimmel-rank divine warrior, which was obviously not her match. With just two clean swings from one of her katanas, she overwhelmed her opponent and forced him to his knees before pressing the edge of her blade against his throat, ending the match decisively.
The following match showed another of Kaela’s kin against an unfamiliar Gimmel-rank divine warrior, and the outcome was never in doubt. If anything, he fought with even greater ferocity after witnessing Mirel’s brutal defeat, leaving his opponent scrambling for survival from the very beginning. The spectators could only offer muted sympathy to the unfortunate soul matched against him.
In the thirteenth match, it was a fight between the mysterious leader of the Obsidian Order and a Daleth-rank divine warrior. The moment his name was announced, the arena grew noticeably quieter.
Unlike the more flamboyant faction leaders, the Obsidian Order’s leader stepped onto the field without fanfare. He wore dark mage robes trimmed with faint red lines while holding a slender black staff in his hand. Meanwhile, his opponent, a muscular Daleth-rank divine warrior wielding twin blades, wasted no time.
“Let’s see what kind of trickster the mysterious leader of the Obsidian Order is,” the man scoffed before charging forward as soon as the match began.
Without warning, a black circle expanded beneath the Obsidian Order leader’s feet, spreading across the stone like liquid shadow. The charging warrior faltered mid-stride as invisible pressure tightened around his limbs.
“What—?!”
Subsequently, a second circle ignited above him. Chains of dark energy descended, and the twin-blade wielder slashed at them in reflex, but his strikes passed straight through, only to trigger a pulse of retaliatory force that sent him staggering backward.
“A Warlock… No, a Great Warlock,” I muttered.
Unlike a standard Warlock, who relied on singular curses or summoned entities, this was its superior evolution. A Great Warlock could layer multiple debuffs at once—sealing movement, suppressing attributes, and eroding resistance in rapid succession before delivering a decisive finishing blow. It was a class brutally effective against anyone unprepared to counter layered control magic.
Within seconds, three more dark magic circles ignited across the arena floor. The Daleth-rank divine warrior roared and unleashed a flurry of blade skills. But each strike seemed slower than the last, his movements dragging as though mired in invisible tar. His stamina visibly drained, and the pressure around him intensified by severalfold.
Then the final spell was unleashed. The black circles flared simultaneously and converged, compressing inward to deliver the final blow. Fortunately for his opponent, the arena’s protective mechanism activated at once, shielding him from fatal damage. The victory was thus awarded to the leader of the Obsidian Order.
“This is quite troublesome,” I mused inwardly. He was set to face Boris in the third round. While I was confident that Boris was stronger overall, an opponent with unknown tricks and contingencies like that guy could not be underestimated. Against a Great Warlock, one mistake could snowball into defeat. Caution would be essential.
The subsequent matches were comparatively straightforward. The leader of the Silver Herald soon took the stage. Through the commentator, I learned his name was Berthold. He wore full silver-white armor that covered his entire body, including a helmet reminiscent of medieval crusaders. Meanwhile, his weapon was a long bardiche with a polished blade.
As for his opponent, it was Kaela’s last kin, the female archer, Nyra Ash.
Both displayed impressive combat prowess. Nyra’s arrows flew with precision and speed, each shot aimed at gaps in Berthold’s defense. Yet Berthold’s silver armor was clearly special and was able to absorb and deflect any attack that she threw at him.
Unlike Mirel’s brutal defeat, this match was concluded as Berthold disarmed and knocked Nyra down cleanly rather than delivering a vicious finishing blow. As such, Kaela and the others didn’t stare at him with killing intent.
The next match was another unremarkable one between two relatively unknown divine warriors. It dragged on longer than usual, as both fighters were overly cautious and unwilling to commit.
Then came the final match of this round: Boris versus the vice leader of the Silver Herald. He was the same man who had been utterly thrashed by Kaela in the past, and the very one who had once tried to recruit me and my party members into their faction—only to get scared the moment Boris made his stance clear. And now, fate had placed them face to face in the arena. To think they would be matched against each other in this round… What were the odds?
The two stepped onto the arena floor at the same time. Unlike the vice leader, who entered with visible tension in his shoulders, Boris walked in as if he were merely taking a stroll, still shirtless as ever. Before long, the commentator announced the start of the match.
The vice leader wasted no time and charged at Boris, thrusting his spear forward. The strike was fast, at least faster than I would have expected from someone of his caliber.
However, Boris didn’t dodge. He merely tilted his torso slightly, allowing the spear to graze past his shoulder before snapping his hand forward. His palm struck the shaft mid-thrust, knocking it off course. A second thrust followed immediately, aiming at his ribs, but Boris caught it barehanded.
“Wh-What?!” The vice leader’s eyes widened as Boris’s fingers clamped down on the weapon with crushing force.
Under his opponent’s stunned gaze, Boris twisted sharply and wrenched the spear from his grasp. Before the man could regain his footing, Boris stepped in and drove a single punch into his abdomen. The impact folded him in half as the air was forced from his lungs. A second, controlled strike to the shoulder sent him crashing onto the arena floor.
With just two clean blows, the arena’s protective mechanism activated, signaling the end of the match and Boris’s victory. The entire exchange had lasted less than ten seconds, and he hadn’t even used any of his skills, let alone his signature skill.
The arena fell quiet for a brief moment after the Silver Herald’s vice leader was escorted away. Then the commentator’s voice boomed across the Grand Colosseum once more.
“And with that decisive victory, the final match of the first elimination round has concluded!” he declared enthusiastically. “What an incredible series of battles! From overwhelming displays of brute strength to refined tactical duels, our thirty-two contestants have now been reduced to sixteen!”
A wave of applause rippled through the stands. The holographic screen above the arena shifted, updating the bracket and highlighting the remaining names.
“Contestants advancing to the Round of Sixteen, please prepare yourselves!” the commentator continued. “We will be taking a fifteen-minute intermission while the arena undergoes its next transformation!”
The barrier lowered completely, and attendants quickly moved in to clear the field. The damaged sections of the arena were repaired first, cracked earth smoothing over as if time itself had been reversed. Once restored, the transformation began.
The dirt floor trembled as intricate mechanisms beneath it activated. Deep fissures split across the surface, and from them, thick vines forced their way upward. Within moments, towering trees erupted from the ground, and dense foliage spread rapidly, weaving together into a canopy overhead. Bushes, uneven terrain, and tangled roots created natural choke points and blind spots throughout the arena.
What had once been a clean dirt colosseum was now a dense jungle.
“The next match is me against Kaela… This will be a decisive moment,” I murmured under my breath.
I needed to uncover her true intentions for entering the tournament—and, if possible, find a way to make her forfeit. Defeating her outright without revealing the full extent of my abilities would be extremely difficult. Even the last time we fought at full strength, the result had been nothing more than a draw.
That said, I opened my status screen to review my current condition.
Maximillian Anderson Lv. 60/60 (EXP 16,713)
HP: 100%
MP: 1,212/1,212
Rank: Gimmel [3]
Patron God: Istellia (Goddess of Imagination)
Class: Paradox Incarnate
Title: Violet-Scaled Dragon God (13)
Status: Normal
Strength: 498 + 44 + 60 | Dexterity: 533 + 59 + 50 | Stamina: 457 + 35 + 50
Mind: 361 + 5 + 40 | Magic Power: 439 + 35 | Luck: 425
Plausibility: 305
Free Attributes: 0
Signature Skill(s): [Absorb Plausibility], [Fabled Vessel], [Faith Conversion], [God!$# Creation], [Grant Plausibility], [Gravity Magic Lv.6], [Scenario Manipulation]
Skill(s): [Assassination Arts Lv.5], [Basic Alchemy Lv.10], [Basic Cryo Magic Lv.10], [Basic Dagger/Knife Mastery Lv.7], [Basic Hand-to-Hand Combat Lv.7], [Basic Shield Mastery Lv.9], [Beast Pocket Seal], [Berserk Lv.4], [Blood-Fueled Frenzy Lv.1], [Calm Mind], [Chantless Casting Lv.3], [Crushing Impact Lv.1], [Desperate Willpower Lv.9], [Divine Sermon Lv.3], [Echo Construct Lv.2], [Extraordinary Fortune], [Extraordinary Harmonized Constitution], [Fast Equip], [Fast Reading Lv.5], [Flaming Fist Lv.1], [Inspect Eye Lv.5], [Intermediate Neutral Magic Lv.1], [Intermediate Spearmanship Lv.6], [Intermediate Swordsmanship Lv.8], [Inventory], [Lethal Thrust Lv.7], [Mana Manipulation Lv.9], [Mana Overclock Lv.1], [Mana Sense Lv.9], [Mental Tolerance Lv.5], [Miracle of Conviction Lv.1], [Negotiation Lv.7], [Night Vision], [Pain Tolerance Lv.6], [Phantom Blade Lv.5], [Phantom Slash Lv.6], [Poison-Paralysis Resistance Lv.4], [Predator’s Veil Lv.6], [Projectile Defense Lv.3], [Reflection Counter Lv.1], [Soullink Resonance Lv.1], [Sword Intent Lv.1], [Weapon Manifestation Lv.5], [Wind Rush Lv.6]
Spell(s): {Frozen Icicle}, {Graviton Pull}, {Gravity Field}, {Gravity Launch}, {Mana Arrow}, {Mana Bullet}, {Mana Shield}, {Mass Alteration}, {Spinning Mana Arrow}
There hadn’t been many changes since the last time I checked my status screen, except that some skills, such as Assassination Arts, Basic Dagger/Knife Mastery, and several others, had leveled up from repeated use. However, what truly concerned me was the amount of plausibility I currently possessed. At this rate, it wouldn’t last very long.
Well, I haven’t used Faith Conversion for more than a day now. I should be able to harvest quite a decent amount of plausibility from it, I thought.
Without wasting time, I headed into the inner concourse of the colosseum and returned to the same secluded spot I had previously used to change my appearance. After carefully confirming that no one was nearby, I invoked Faith Conversion.
You have activated Faith Conversion.
The sensation was similar to the previous time. Invisible threads seemed to converge toward me from somewhere beyond perception. A quiet warmth spread through my chest as streams of belief, reverence, and awe flowed inward, compressing into a single, concentrated point.
You have absorbed the faith directed at you.
You have gained 467 Plausibility.
As expected, it wasn’t a huge amount, but it should suffice when facing Kaela in case she decided to lose control and go berserk as she had before.