Chapter 258: THE SHOWDOWN OF PROWESS

The moment Logan stepped down from the carriage, several figures began making their way toward him.

Rowan, Daliah, Lilith and the Starwind couple, Ali Arkman, John William, and even Gideon’s full party… all approached. They all had been waiting for him afterall.

A few other familiar faces remained where they stood, notably Leonard and Damian, the other two representatives from Arcadia in this Showdown of Prowess.

They saw Logan, of course. But none of them stepped forward. None of them smiled.

Because truth be told… they didn’t like Logan’s existence. And they didn’t bother to hide it. Though they had once been saved by him, even benefited from his strength, they couldn’t control their jealousy. Or their pride.

Elsewhere beside the entrance of the arena, Charles and Robert stood beside a third man, someone in his mid-thirties, clad in regal armor, with a sharp gaze and a bearing that radiated command.

Though Charles and Robert had already started working closely with Logan, they kept their distance. Today was different. Today, they stood as representatives of their own kingdoms.

With their queen and numerous high-ranking officials watching from distance, they couldn’t simply walk up and greet a potential opponent like an old friend.

This tournament wasn’t just a competition.

It was a tradition… held once every three years. Each kingdom sent its three strongest. But there were no central prizes.

It was more of a showdown of power than just a test of strength.

So even without official rewards, the stakes were real.

Last time, the champion had been made a duke by his own king.

This time? No one knew what awaited the victors.

As everyone got close, they greeted Logan and his parents. Logan did the same, returning the gesture.

Rowan clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder as he reached him. “So, you finally decided to grace us with your precence, huh? I thought you are surely going to miss this.”

“Yeah! Me too. How can you be so late in a special day like this?” Daliah chimed in from beside.

Logan scratched his head awkwardly. “Sorry everyone. Didn’t know it would take this long to reach here. We should have started earlier.”

Daliah brushed it off with a wave of her hand. “Whatever… Now let’s get going.”

“Alright.” Logan nodded as they started walking toward the entrance.

While walking Rowan asked in a low voice. “How was your last fourten days? Did you achieve a new level again or still in the same one?”

“Still in that level. It will take some time before I can reach the next one.” Logan answered.

Soon they entered through the entrance and emerged inside.

Logan’s gaze drifted across the arena. Dozens of elites. Countless eyes. Mana and aura flickering across the battlefield.

“All who have come here to participate are really strong. Not like that young elite tournament from back then,” he thought. “If it was three years back, I would be nowhere near them. Even just saying me an opponent would have been an overstatement. But now… It’s different. A lot jas happened in last three years.”

Meanwhile, murmurs rippled through the air. Almost all eyes turned toward Logan the moment he had entered. Even without Logan doing anything, they could feel it.

The shift in the air, as if a storm was about to come, clouds gathering in the distant sky.

“Is that him?”

“Logan Smith… the kid participating in the showdown of prowess?”

“Hmph. The Arcadia kingdom has surely gone mad.”

“Yeah! What was that kingdom even thinking sending a kid as one of their kingdom’s best?”

Logan stood quietly, fingers losened, cloak fluttering behind him.

“Many seems unhappy about my participation.” Logan whispered.

But Ali chuckled as he stepped forward and stopped beside Logan. “Unhappy? They are just puzzled, not knowing what’s going on. But once you start fighting, they will know. So don’t bother.” The Guildmaster said.

“Yes, master.” Logan said.

As everyone settled in vacant seats in the gallery, a deep, commanding voice echoed across the coliseum.

“Warriors, nobles, and honored guests, welcome to the Showdown of Prowess.”

All heads turned.

A tall, robed figure stepped forward onto the central platform…. Archmage Thalan of Solmyr, one of the appointed overseers of this year’s tournament.

“The rules remain unchanged. Each kingdom shall field three participants. There will be three phases to this tournament.”

He raised a glowing crystal high above his head, and the coliseum’s magical barriers shimmered to life.

“Phase one and phase two will be elimination round. It will be of single duels. But phase Three will be battle royale.

In first two phase the match will continue upto one yielding defeat or being knocked out. And in the last phase the battle royal will continue until only one is standing.”

A ripple of tension flowed through the crowd.

“You are not only here to fight for you but to represent your kingdoms, your people… and your future.”

He waved his hand, and a panel appeared mid-air, displaying the first matchups.

Gasps rang out.

“The first duel… Logan Smith of Arcadia versus Kalim Voss of Drahzul.”

A silence fell.

Then a wave of whispers broke loose.

“The first match? We just arrived and Logan will be already in action?” Ali said.

“Well, isn’t that good? All that murmurs about if we are making a huge mistake will be cleared right away.” Lilith chuckled.

“True.” Daliah added. “I can’t wait to see their shocked expressions.”

Meanwhile whispers turned to laughter in the opposite gallery.

“The boy is the first one up? This is going to be over quickly.”

“Arcadia really lost its mind this time. Sending a teenager against Kalim Voss?”

“You do know Kalim’s a peak A-rank mage, right? With three affinities. Fire, air, and gravity!”

“He’ll turn that kid into ashes before the match even begins.”

The jeers weren’t quiet. They were loud. Deliberate. Directed at Arcadia.

Yet amidst all that noise, the people of Arcadia remained composed.

Rowan leaned back in his seat as a chuckle left his lips. “Let them laugh while they can.”

Ali Arkman smirked. “They won’t be laughing for long.”

Lilith added. “They’re going to wish they kept their mouths shut.”

But across the coliseum, the confidence was overflowing.

In Drahzul’s section, nobles leaned forward eagerly, expecting a quick victory.

Kalim Voss stood already halfway to the stage, arms crossed, fire flickering faintly around his wrists as the winds swirled beneath his cloak.

He looked every bit like a seasoned champion.

All eyes turned to the Arcadian section.

Logan finally rose.

A shift passed through the coliseum.

No words.

No aura burst.

No flashy technique.

Just his presence… unshaking, unwavering.

He began walking… slow, purposeful steps echoing on the stone floor as he moved toward the stage.

But just as he was about to descend the steps, a familiar voice called out.

“Logan.”

He turned.

Alice stood beside Rudeous, eyes full of quiet strength. “Best of luck, son.”

Logan’s lips curled into a soft smile.

“Thanks, mother.”

And with that, he stepped down toward the stage.

The moment he entered the dueling zone, the magical barrier lit up with a golden shimmer. A translucent dome encased the platform, ensuring nothing inside would affect the spectators.

The referee raised a hand. “Combatants, prepare!”

Kalim gave Logan a smirk, tossing a bolt of fire between his fingers.

“I don’t know why your people would send you to be slaughtered but don’t worry. I will make it quick.”

Logan said nothing.

The referee’s voice rang again. “Begin!”

BOOM….

In the very next instant, the stage exploded into action.

Kalim didn’t waste time.

He launched a barrage of wind blades… ten, twenty, maybe more, while manipulating the arena’s gravitational field to pin Logan in place.

And then came the fire… massive waves of crimson flame, twisting like dragons, roaring toward Logan with murderous heat.

The crowd roared.

A triple affinity user was on full display.

Raw power. Refined control. Ruthless aggression.

But…

Logan moved.

Not by brute force.

Not by casting.

He simply… dodged.

A step to the left. A glide to the right.

Wind blades missed by inches. Flames twisted around his cloak but never touched him.

He bent under one blast and leapt past another, his movements fluid, like a leaf dancing in a storm.

From the stands, gasps echoed.

“What…? He didn’t even use magic!”

“He’s not using any spells! How is he keeping up?!”

Kalim narrowed his eyes, annoyed.

He raised both hands.

Gravity surged downward in a pulse that shattered the stone beneath Logan’s feet. A crater formed… deep and wide, threatening to bury him alive.

But Logan was already airborne.

He spun mid-air, using the crumbling debris to push off and land lightly on the far end of the platform.

Still no spell.

Still no counter.

Just movements.

Just evasion.

And that’s what began to unnerve everyone.

From Drahzul’s seats, the laughter had stopped.

Even their king’s smile was faltering.

“Why isn’t Kalim landing a single hit?”

“Is this kid… really that fast?”

Lilith couldn’t help but chuckle enjoying their shocked expressions.

Back in the ring, Logan stood straight again, facing Kalim from across the ruined platform.

He hadn’t attacked once.

He hadn’t raised his hand.

He hadn’t cast a single spell.

And yet, Kalim was sweating.

Breathing heavier than before.

The silence among the opposing kingdoms was growing louder by the second.

Because now… they weren’t so sure.

Was this child from Arcadia really the underdog?

Or something else entirely?

Logan looked at Kalim, eyes calm as still water.

And then….

He moved…. Blurred from his position.

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