Chapter 230: Chapter 230 – Solo Domination

I stood in the center of the arena, my breathing still normal, my body fresh. Unlike last night, where I’d nearly passed out from exhaustion after an intense fight, this time I was in peak condition. Plenty of rest, plus [Vitality] which I’d raised to 70, had me ready for anything.

On the Arclight bench, a brief discussion was visible. Leonhardt Halstrom sat with a serious expression, his arms folded across his chest. Around him, team members exchanged glances, then one large figure stood.

The man was around 190 centimeters tall, with broad shoulders and a posture like a walking wall. In his right hand, a long gleaming sword. On his left, a large shield bearing Arclight’s emblem. He walked to the arena with heavy steps, each footfall making the floor tremble slightly.

The Host immediately shouted, “FROM ARCLIGHT ACADEMY, THEIR SECOND REPRESENTATIVE IS… AIDEN HALEWICK! A PALADIN WITH SHIELD AND SWORD, A-RANK! HE WILL FACE ADAM SOCHERON, THE MONSTER FROM NINE STARS!”

I studied him carefully. Large body, muscles clearly trained for power rather than speed. His shield looked solid, probably capable of blocking physical attacks well.

In my mind, [Eye of Desire] activated.

_______________

NAME: Aiden Halewick

AGE: 24

CLASS: Paladin

RANK: A

DOMINANCE: 1%

SEXUAL AROUSAL: 5%

WEAK POINTS: Penis

FETISH: –

_______________

A-Rank. Same as Rowan. I glanced at the Arclight section—eight representatives sat there. Five of them were A-Rank, including Leonhardt. The other three were B-Rank.

They’re serious, I thought. Sending a heavy paladin first to drain my stamina.

Unfortunately, they miscalculated.

The referee raised his hand. “THE MATCH… BEGINS!”

I didn’t attack immediately. I walked slowly toward Aiden, my steps casual, almost like I was strolling through a park.

Aiden narrowed his eyes, wary. He also walked forward, but slower, more cautiously. His shield was raised, protecting most of his body. His sword was ready at his side.

“ADAM SOCHERON IS CASUALLY WALKING TOWARD AIDEN! WHAT’S GOING THROUGH HIS MIND?!”

When we were about three meters apart, I moved.

[Mindrender] swung quickly from the side, a simple horizontal slash targeting the side of his body not protected by the shield.

Aiden reacted fast. His shield spun, deflecting my attack with a loud BAM. At the same moment, his sword thrust toward my stomach.

I stepped back, dodging the thrust. But Aiden didn’t stop. He charged forward, his shield pushed ahead trying to pressure me, corner me against the arena boundary.

I retreated again. And again. And again.

“AIDEN HALEWICK IS DOMINATING WITH HIS SHIELD! HE’S FORCING ADAM TO RETREAT! WILL ADAM BE CORNERED?!”

But really, I was just testing his speed.

And the result… he was slow. Much slower than Rowan.

After a few steps back, I stopped. My left foot planted firmly on the floor, my body slightly lowered. When Aiden pushed his shield forward again, I didn’t retreat.

I punched the shield.

BAM!

The impact echoed loudly. Aiden was shocked, his hand holding the shield was knocked aside, his fingers trembling violently. He stumbled back two steps, his eyes wide.

“WHAT?!” the Host shouted. “ADAM PUNCHED AIDEN’S SHIELD AND MANAGED TO KNOCK HIM BACK! WHAT KIND OF STRENGTH IS THAT?!”

I didn’t give him time. I lunged forward, [Mindrender] in one hand, my other fist clenched.

Aiden panicked. He raised his shield again, trying to block.

BAM!

The second punch struck the same shield. This time, it flew from his grasp, tumbling several meters before clattering to the floor.

The Colosseum fell silent for a moment.

Everyone was in disbelief. An A-Rank Paladin, with his solid shield, was disarmed in just two punches.

Aiden stood frozen, staring blankly at his empty hand. He still held his sword, but without his shield, he was just an ordinary fighter.

I didn’t give him time to recover from the shock.

The third punch shot forward, hitting his stomach with full force.

WHAM!

Aiden’s body lifted off the floor, flew several meters, then crashed and rolled like a rag doll. He stopped near the arena boundary, unmoving, unconscious.

Silence.

Then, like a breaking wave, cheers exploded.

“IMPOSSIBLE! IMPOSSIBLE! AIDEN HALEWICK, AN A-RANK PALADIN, DEFEATED IN JUST THREE PUNCHES! THREE PUNCHES! ADAM SOCHERON DIDN’T EVEN USE HIS SWORD—HE ONLY USED HIS FISTS!”

The Host had nearly lost his voice. “WHAT KIND OF POWER IS THIS?! THIS IS INSANE! ABSOLUTELY INSANE!”

I stood in the center of the arena, looking at my own hand. [Strength: 80] was truly extraordinary—nearly equivalent to an SS-Rank Awakener. No wonder Aiden, who relied only on ordinary physical strength, couldn’t match me.

The reason I’d struggled slightly against Rowan was that his speed nearly matched mine, plus his swordsmanship was exceptional. But Aiden? He was too slow. Power without speed just makes you an easy target.

The medical team ran into the arena, evacuating the still-unconscious Aiden. On the Arclight bench, the representatives’ expressions began to shift. From confident to wary, from wary to anxious.

The scoreboard changed.

NINE STARS ACADEMY: 2 WINS – 0 LOSSES

ARCLIGHT ACADEMY: 0 WINS – 2 LOSSES

“ADAM SOCHERON HAS SECURED TWO CONSECUTIVE VICTORIES! HE’S STILL STANDING IN THE ARENA, WAITING FOR HIS NEXT OPPONENT! WILL ARCLIGHT BE ABLE TO STOP HIM?!”

I stood with my hands on my hips, waiting. On the Arclight bench, the discussion lasted longer this time. They’d finally realized that sending slow fighters was a fatal mistake.

Their third representative finally stood.

A woman. She wore tight black clothing that accentuated her slim but athletic figure. In her right hand, a short gleaming dagger. In her left hand, a long rapier with an ornate hilt. Her black hair was tied in a high ponytail, her dark blue eyes watching me warily.

She walked to the arena with light steps, almost silently. Like a cat.

The Host declared, “ARCLIGHT’S THIRD REPRESENTATIVE IS… MIRA SHADOWLYN! A DUAL-WEAPON SPECIALIST—DAGGER AND RAPIER—WITH AN ASSASSIN TYPE! A-RANK! SHE WILL FACE ADAM SOCHERON!”

I studied her. From her posture and movement, she was clearly a speed type. Possibly as fast as Rowan, or even faster. Arclight had finally learned from their mistakes—they sent a fighter who could match my speed.

Mira stopped at her position, rapier and dagger ready. Her eyes never left [Mindrender] in my hand.

The referee raised his hand. “THE MATCH… BEGINS!”

Neither of us moved.

We watched each other, measured each other, looked for openings. Mira was slightly crouched, her weight on the balls of her feet, ready to spring at any moment.

I decided to test her.

I stepped forward, [Mindrender] swinging in a horizontal slash.

Mira dodged nimbly, her body twisted to the side, her rapier immediately thrusting toward my ribs. I spun, avoiding the thrust, and at the same moment her dagger was already slashing from the other side.

Tch, fast too.

I stepped back, avoiding both attacks. But Mira showed no mercy—she immediately pursued, a combination of rapier thrusts and dagger slashes launched at high speed.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

I parried with [Mindrender], retreating slowly, studying her pattern. She was fast, very fast. Possibly as fast as Rowan, and in terms of agility, she was slightly superior.

“THE FIGHT BEGINS WITH HIGH INTENSITY! MIRA SHADOWLYN IS ATTACKING WITH INCREDIBLE SPEED! ADAM SOCHERON IS FORCED TO DEFEND!”

Mira kept pressing. Her rapier thrust from various angles, while her dagger was always ready to strike at unexpected moments. She moved like a dancer—beautiful, but deadly.

But I was beginning to read her movements.

Every fighter has a pattern, and after a few minutes of fighting, I started seeing it. She tended to attack with her rapier first, then use her dagger to cover gaps after the initial strike. An effective pattern, but predictable.

When she attacked again—rapier thrust to the chest, followed by dagger slash to the neck—I was ready.

I didn’t retreat. I stepped forward, moving inside her range.

Mira was surprised. Her rapier missed because I was too close, and her dagger only grazed my shoulder. But at the same moment, [Mindrender] swung.

SWISH!

My sword slashed her arm—not deep, but enough to make her lose her grip. The dagger flew from her hand, clattering to the floor.

Mira retreated quickly, clutching her wounded arm. Her eyes were still sharp, but now there was a hint of panic there.

I didn’t give her time. I advanced, [Mindrender] pressing mercilessly.

She defended with just her rapier, but without her dagger, her defense was unbalanced. Every slash, every thrust, narrowed her space further.

“ADAM HAS DISARMED MIRA OF HER DAGGER! NOW SHE’S FIGHTING WITH ONLY HER RAPIER! THIS IS A MAJOR ADVANTAGE!”

Mira retreated to the arena boundary. Behind her, only the barrier fence and spectator stands. No more room to retreat.

She gritted her teeth. “No… I won’t lose!”

She lunged desperately, her rapier thrusting in a final attack.

I deflected it easily. [Mindrender] spun, locking her rapier, and in the same motion, my fist slammed into her stomach.

WHAM!

Mira staggered, her rapier dropping. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath, clutching her stomach.

I stood before her, [Mindrender] drawn, its tip pointed directly at her face.

“You’ve lost,” I said.

Mira looked at me. In her eyes, there was a mixture of defeat, admiration, and clear frustration. She nodded slowly.

The referee raised his hand. “MIRA SHADOWLYN CANNOT CONTINUE THE MATCH! VICTORY GOES TO ADAM SOCHERON!”

Cheers erupted again. This was my third consecutive victory.

NINE STARS ACADEMY: 3 WINS – 0 LOSSES

ARCLIGHT ACADEMY: 0 WINS – 3 LOSSES

“ADAM SOCHERON HAS SECURED THREE VICTORIES! THREE! HE’S STILL STANDING IN THE ARENA, SHOWING NO SIGNS OF FATIGUE! THIS IS EXTRAORDINARY!”

I caught my breath, feeling a slight fatigue beginning to creep in. Three consecutive fights, though not too heavy, still drained stamina. But I could still continue.

On the Arclight bench, the atmosphere was growing grim. Several representatives looked down, not daring to face the arena. Others whispered with anxious expressions.

Leonhardt still sat with a serious face, but his previously folded arms now rested on his knees, slightly clenched.

Their fourth representative stood.

Another woman. Long wavy brown hair, a light green mage’s robe, and in her hand, a staff with a large crystal at its tip. She walked to the arena with graceful steps, but her eyes were wary.

The Host declared, “ARCLIGHT’S FOURTH REPRESENTATIVE IS… CASSANDRA MORWELL! A WIND MAGE, SPECIALIST IN WIND ELEMENTS, A-RANK! SHE WILL TRY TO STOP ADAM SOCHERON’S MOMENTUM!”

I studied her. A wind mage. That meant long-range attacks, possibly troublesome.

Cassandra stopped at her position, her staff raised. Around her, wind began to swirl slowly, making her hair and robe flutter.

The referee raised his hand. “THE MATCH… BEGINS!”

Cassandra didn’t wait. The moment “begin” was uttered, she swung her staff.

SWISH!

A wind blade shot toward me—fast, sharp, like an invisible knife. I dodged by rolling to the side, feeling the gust pass by me.

But that was just the beginning.

Cassandra swung her staff again and again. Consecutive wind blades shot forward, forcing me to keep moving, dodging, running. Every time I tried to approach, she unleashed more attacks.

“THIS WIND MAGE IS EXTREMELY TROUBLESOME! ADAM IS FORCED TO DEFEND FROM A DISTANCE! HOW WILL HE PENETRATE CASSANDRA’S DEFENSES?!”

I ran sideways, trying to approach from a blind spot. But Cassandra was always ready—the wind around her acted like radar, telling her my every movement.

This was troublesome.

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