Chapter 125: His Final Round

The capital arena was where the twelve novices stood in the center of the fighting ring.

The stone bleachers held hundreds of spectators.

Priests, nobles and commoners filled the seats to watch the Church select its future weapons.

Phase Three of the Ascension Tournament demanded combat so the elimination bracket decided their fate.

Winners received prime ecclesiastical postings and losers received a one-way ticket to the southern war front.

Elector Mordecai sat in the front row resting his hands on his crystal cane, he stared at the dirt without blinking, waiting for a mistake.

The detection artifact hummed hidden inside his white robes.

Raziel stepped into the combat circle for the first match against a second-year healer.

The boy trembled holding a wooden practice staff in front of his chest, he lacked offensive magic and relied on passive survival.

Raziel didn’t want to hurt him but he needed to win without displaying his Umbral core to the Elector.

He channeled standard blue mana into his boots and dragged his feet across the dirt while stepping backward, drawing a massive network of Pulse Runes in the sand.

He connected the geometric lines forming a trap without ever lifting his hands.

The healer shut his eyes and charged forward with a clumsy battle cry, swinging his wooden staff in a wide arc and stepping right into the center of Raziel’s geometric grid.

Raziel snapped his fingers.

FWOOSH!

The dirt floor erupted with the invisible wave that hit the healer in the chest.

The boy flew backward crossing the boundary line and landed on his back outside the ring.

“Ring out! Novice Raziel advances!” the referee shouted.

Raziel walked out of the circle without breaking a sweat, it was an elegant elimination without unnecessary violence.

The crowd murmured in surprise at the clean victory.

He glanced at the front row and Mordecai tilted his head but said nothing, the Elector analyzed the blue mana residue on the dirt.

The quarter-finals continued so Lucian entered the ring next.

He faced a massive combat initiate holding a heavy iron shield.

Lucian activated his Stealth Gift and dropped his mana signature to zero.

The noble vanished from sight as ambient light bent around his form, sidestepping the initiate’s initial shield bash.

He appeared right behind the larger boy and placed the blunt edge of his practice dagger against the initiate’s throat.

The initiate dropped his shield in defeat.

Caius fought in the third round and his opponent cast volleys of fire and wind.

Caius just walked through the arena and sidestepped every single projectile.

He calculated the trajectory of the fireballs and stepped just one inch out of the way wasting zero energy.

The opponent depleted his mana core in four minutes and collapsed from sheer exhaustion so

Caius won without throwing a single punch.

Gideon took the ring for the final match of the first bracket facing a smaller novice with a speed Gift.

Gideon didn’t possess his artificial strength enhancements anymore since the Church purged those from his system weeks ago, so he fought with raw desperation.

He took three fast punches to the face and his nose bled but he ignored the pain.

He threw a heavy right hook fueled by survival instinct.

BAM!

The punch connected with the novice’s jaw and the boy dropped to the dirt unconscious.

Gideon stood over him panting and wiped blood from his mouth.

He looked terrified of losing because losing meant the front lines and the front lines meant death.

The instructors updated the tournament bracket on a large chalk board.

Semifinal One: Raziel versus Caius.

Semifinal Two: Lucian versus Gideon.

Raziel stood in the shaded waiting area under the stone bleachers checking his wrist bandages, preparing his mind for the next round.

Footsteps approached from the side.

Caius stopped next to the stone wall, staring at the arena entrance.

“I will attack for real.”

Raziel turned to look at him. “Why warn me?”

“Because I need you to show something real,” Caius turned his head and met Raziel’s gaze. “If you win with basic Runes, Mordecai will know you hide your core. If you lose on purpose, Mordecai will know you hide your core.”

Caius pointed toward the front row in the distance where the Elector sat motionless.

“You need to win looking like you gave everything you have. You must convince him the blue Runes are the absolute limit of your power.”

Raziel thought about the math.

Beating an anomaly from the Ancient Pantheon with basic Church magic required a massive tactical effort.

He needed to push his physical body to the brink.

“What if they are all I have?”

Caius stared at him and the boy lacked human warmth, his pale gray eyes registered zero emotion.

“We both know that is false.”

Caius paused and looked back at the sunlit arena.

“But Mordecai cannot know.”

Caius walked away leaving Raziel alone in the shade.

The horn blew signaling the start of the semifinals and the instructors decided to run the second match first.

Lucian and Gideon stepped into the center of the ring.

Raziel walked out of the tunnel and stood by the wooden railing to watch his friend.

“Begin!” the referee shouted.

Lucian dashed forward using his Nyxian footwork to close the distance, ducking under Gideon’s

initial grab and striking Gideon in the ribs with the hilt of his dagger.

THUD!

Gideon grunted but took the hit without falling.

Lucian spun around delivering a sweeping kick to Gideon’s knee.

Gideon stumbled but ignored the pain.

He refused to become cannon fodder in the southern war so he channeled every drop of his

baseline strength.

Lucian moved to strike the back of Gideon’s neck to force a knockout.

Gideon anticipated the movement, turning and lunging with open arms, abandoning all defensive posture.

He caught Lucian mid-stride.

Gideon locked his massive arms around Lucian’s torso trapping Lucian’s arms against his ribs and lifting the noble off the dirt.

Lucian thrashed in the air kicking Gideon’s shins and tried to stab with the practice dagger but couldn’t get any leverage.

Gideon squeezed.

CRUNCH!

Lucian gasped and his eyes bulged, the air left his lungs in a sharp hiss while his ribs groaned under the pressure.

Gideon tightened the bear hug with the veins on his neck bulging, roaring with unfiltered

desperation.

He put his body weight into crushing Lucian’s chest, squeezing the life out of his opponent.

Lucian dropped the dagger and it hit the dirt.

His face turned a dark shade of purple while he clawed at Gideon’s forearms, his movements growing weak as he kicked his legs in the air.

The referee didn’t stop the match since submissions were legal in Phase Three, the fight

continued until one combatant surrendered or lost consciousness.

Lucian couldn’t speak to surrender, he stopped kicking and his eyes rolled back.

Raziel gripped the wooden railing and the wood splintered under his fingers.

He stood up in the stands.

“Lucian!”

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