Chapter 389: The Beginning Of The End [LI]

The next day arrived far faster than most expected.

From early morning, the academy was already restless.

News spread like wildfire through the halls, classrooms, and training grounds. Whispers followed every step, and students gathered in clusters, speaking in low but excited voices.

“Did you hear?”

“Aestrea finally registered himself in the ranking boards!

“No way…”

By the time noon approached, the main arena was filled to the brim.

Students packed the stands, professors stood near the central platform, and several high-rankers watched from above with unreadable expressions. Even those who rarely showed interest in student affairs had arrived.

At the center of it all stood a large crystal board, used to announce ranked duels.

A professor stepped forward, holding a scroll.

His face was extremely stiff for some reason…

“Huff…”

He took a deep breath.

“Attention,” he announced, his voice amplified across the arena. “The first-ranked duel of the day will now be announced.”

The crowd quieted.

He glanced down at the scroll again.

“…Gulp”

And strangely, swallowed his saliva audibly.

Murmurs rippled through the arena.

“…Ranked challenger,” the professor continued slowly.

“Aestrea.”

The name alone caused a wave of noise.

“That’s him!”

“The guy who crushed Indrath!”

“Isn’t Indrath still unconscious?!”

The professor raised his hand, trying to maintain order.

“The number of issued challenges…”

He paused lightly as his lips pressed together tightly, as if unsure of what to say when clearly the scroll was right in front of him.

“…Exceeds three hundred.”

For a single second, the arena went completely silent.

“WHAT?!”

“THREE HUNDRED?!”

“Is that a joke?!”

“Is he insane?!”

The stands exploded into chaos.

“You can’t be serious! Three hundred challenges in one day?!” A student near the front stood up.

“That’s not confidence, that’s madness!”

“Does he think this is some kind of slaughterhouse?!”

Even some professors exchanged uneasy glances.

“Is that even allowed?”

“It is… technically.”

A senior student crossed his arms, frowning. “Even if he’s strong, this is too much. Ranked duels aren’t exactly sparring matches. They’re real fights where one can even get crippled!

“After killing one of the strongest gods in the academy, maybe he thinks the rest are nothing.”

“That’s exactly why this feels exaggerated. Even monsters get tired!”

From the edge of the arena, Kael stared at the board with wide eyes.

“…Three hundred,” he muttered.

“I knew he’d go crazy, but this is on another level.”

“He’s really testing his limits…” Tyrian stood beside him, not knowing whether to laugh or simply cry.

“You think he can actually pull it off?” Kael glanced at him.

Tyrian didn’t answer right away.

“…Perhaps, after all… It’s Aestrea who’s doing this craziness.”

At the center platform, Aestrea stood calmly.

The noise around him didn’t seem to exist.

“Ahem!” The professor cleared his throat again.

“Due to the unusually high number of challenges, the duels will be conducted in continuous sequence. Medical teams are on standby. Defensive barriers are at maximum.”

He hesitated, then added:

“Challenged students may forfeit at any time.”

That last sentence caused another wave of laughter.

“Like that’ll help!”

“Who would even step up against him?!”

“I would forfeit instantly!”

The crystal board flashed, and the first name appeared.

Aestrea.

Rank: Lowest.

Opponent: Karl #19987.

A young god stepped onto the platform, visibly shaking.

He looked at Aestrea, swallowed hard, and raised his hand.

“I-I… I forfeit.”

The board flashed again.

Next.

Another student stepped forward, and the moment he looked at Aestrea…

“I-I forfeit!!!”

Again.

And again.

The crowd grew louder with each result.

“Is this even a fight anymore?!”

“This is clearly bullying!”

“No, this is history!”

Finally, someone didn’t forfeit.

A tall figure stepped onto the platform, lightning crackling around his body. Blue sparks danced along his arms, and a sharp aura spread outward as divine energy surged.

“A God of Lightning…”

Murmurs rose from the stands.

“He’s ranked pretty high among the lower ranks.”

“At least someone has the guts to fight.”

The lightning god lifted his hand, electricity gathering rapidly. The air snapped and hissed as power condensed into a long, glowing spear of lightning.

“I won’t back down,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Don’t think I’ll surrender just because of your reputation.”

The barrier fully formed, and immediately, the duel began!

The lightning god roared and hurled the spear forward.

ZZZAAAK!

The spear tore through the space, aimed straight at Aestrea’s chest, its speed fast enough to leave countless afterimages behind.

Aestrea didn’t step away from the place he was standing; he simply raised his right hand, and extended his index finger.

Crackle!

The lightning spear struck his fingertip.

BAAAM!

A deafening shockwave exploded outward, causing the arena’s floor to crack and the barrier to start trembling violently.

The lightning shattered.

The god’s eyes widened in disbelief.

In the next instant, an invisible force slammed into his body.

CRASH!

He was sent flying across the platform, crashing into the barrier before falling to the ground, smoke rising from his body.

The duel ended in a single move…

Silence swallowed the arena.

“What… just happened?”

“He blocked it with a finger…”

The crystal board flashed, updating the rankings.

Aestrea slowly lowered his hand without changing expression before muttering in an almost annoyed tone.

“Next.”

For a brief moment, no one moved; however, the board flashed again.

Another opponent stepped forward.

This one hesitated but did not forfeit. Divine energy flared around him as he charged, shouting as he unleashed his attack.

The duel lasted less than a second.

SMACK!

Aestrea’s open palm struck the air.

The challenger was sent flying off the platform, crashing into the barrier and sliding down unconscious.

The board updated.

“Next.”

Again.

Some challengers surrendered the moment they faced him. Others tried their luck, gritting their teeth and attacking with everything they had.

None lasted.

A punch.

A palm strike.

A single step forward.

Each fight ended the same way.

The crowd stopped counting.

Ranks fell one after another, and the numbers dropped so quickly that the crystal board struggled to keep up.

Whispers turned into shouting.

“This isn’t normal!”

“He’s not slowing down at all!”

“Does he even get tired?!”

Time passed.

Dozens of fights became hundreds.

And then, the board flashed and stopped.

[Rank: 500]

A sudden silence fell over the arena.

The professor overseeing the duels stepped forward, his throat dry. He glanced at Aestrea, then at the board, then back at Aestrea again.

“…You have completed all the challenges available to you today,” he said carefully. “According to the rules, you may stop here.”

The crowd stirred.

Some sighed in relief.

Others looked disappointed.

“I want to continue.” Aestrea looked up.

The professor blinked.

“Continue?”

“I want to challenge the 200th-ranked student.” Aestrea nodded once.

For half a second, no one reacted.

Then the arena exploded.

“Is he insane?!”

“He’s already fought hundreds!”

“He should be completely drained by now!”

“That’s a massive jump!”

Even some professors stood up in shock.

The professor hesitated.

“You understand that once you reach this point, you are allowed to directly challenge the top two hundred only after defeating the five-hundredth-ranked student?”

“Yes,” Aestrea replied calmly.

The professor studied him closely, searching for any sign of fatigue. There was none, so after letting out a sigh, he finally nodded.

“Very well.”

The crowd roared again.

“However, we will take a fifteen-minute break,” the professor added, raising his hand,

Groans echoed through the stands.

“We need time to formally summon the 200th-ranked student and prepare a much bigger arena.”

“That’s fine,” Aestrea nodded lightly.

The barrier lowered, and Aestrea stepped off the platform as the crowd continued buzzing behind him.

Kael and Tyrian were already waiting near the edge of the arena, pacing slightly with their eyes fixed on him.

The moment he approached, both froze mid-step, exchanging a brief glance.

“Bro.” Kael tilted his head, squinting.

Aestrea stopped in front of them.

“What?”

“Aren’t you tired or something?” Kael stepped closer, poking him lightly on the shoulder, then pulling back as if testing his strength.

“You’ve fought hundreds of people already. You should be drained… your energy, your stamina, even your aura should show it.”

Tyrian’s arms folded, his brows furrowed, and he leaned in slightly, studying Aestrea like a scientist observing an anomaly.

“Yeah! At least some heavy breathing, or sweating, or… I don’t know… dramatic collapse.”

“I’m fine.”

Kael blinked at him, then took a slow step back, pretending to measure him from head to toe. He poked Aestrea’s shoulder again, harder this time, spinning him around slightly.

“Huh. Not even a scratch. No hair out of place. Nothing.”

“Are you hiding something? Some secret fatigue? Or did you actually just… not tired?” Tyrian leaned closer, hands behind his back, tilting his head.

Aestrea raised an eyebrow, looking at them flatly.

“I told you. I’m fine.”

Kael stared at him for two seconds.

“Alright.” Then nodded.

“Okay.” Tyrian nodded too.

Aestrea blinked at their actions.

“…That was fast.”

“You’re our bestie. If you say you’re fine, you’re fine.” Kael shrugged his shoulder.

“Simple logic.” Tyrian also nodded.

“Plus, you’ve done way crazier stuff than this. Fighting a few hundred gods is like a warm-up for you.”

“Your standards are broken.”

“And you’re the reason why.”

They stood there for a moment, listening to the distant noise of the crowd and the sound of workers preparing the larger arena.

“So… after the break, you’re really going for the 200th rank?” Kael leaned closer again.

“Yes,” Aestrea replied.

“That’s the gate to the Heaven’s List.”

“Man… just imagine their faces if you win.”

“Let them watch… because as soon as I reach them…” Aestrea looked back toward the arena, his crimson eyes glowing intently.

“I’ll give them the defeat of their life.”

“That’s the spirit!” Kael grinned widely.

“Just don’t collapse after,” Tyrian sighed with a small smile.

“I won’t.”

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