Magnus stared in disbelief as the bodies around him collapsed, one after another, like dominos falling in slow motion. Tim, Violet, and even the leader of the rival group—all lay unconscious, sprawled across the cold floor of the hall.
"What the...?" Magnus muttered, his hand reflexively gripping his mana dagger, though it wasn't clear who—or what—he was meant to fight.
The silence that followed was eerie, the oppressive weight of it settling over him like a heavy blanket. His Mana Eyes were still activated, but they didn't show anything unusual—just the faint flicker of fading mana from the unconscious Ascenders.
He took a cautious step forward, scanning the surroundings for any clue about what had just happened. There wasn't a sign of a physical attack, no traps, and no sudden fluctuations in mana that would explain the sudden collapse of everyone around him.
Magnus knelt beside Violet, checking her pulse. She was alive, just unconscious, her breathing steady but deep. Tim was in the same state, lying motionless with his head resting awkwardly on the cold floor. The other Ascenders had collapsed in much the same way—alive, but completely out of it.
"What the hell is going on?" Magnus muttered, standing up and glancing toward the far end of the hall, where the darkness stretched endlessly.
For a brief moment, he wondered if this was part of the tournament, some kind of hidden test to see how competitors would react. But that didn't make sense. There hadn't been any announcement, no warning—just silence, and then this.
Magnus took a deep breath and straightened up, putting his mana dagger away. If someone was pulling the strings, they were doing a damn good job of staying hidden. Whatever this was, it wasn't over.
He glanced back at the unconscious Ascenders, then toward the exit of the hall. Something was very wrong, and if he didn't figure it out soon, he might be next.
Magnus cautiously teleported through the walls of the tournament building, peeking into each room. To his shock, every Ascender he found was unconscious, slumped against their beds, sprawled across the floor, or leaning awkwardly in chairs. Just like in the hallway, they were all breathing but completely unresponsive. It didn't make sense—why was he the only one still awake?
Magnus's mind raced. Whoever or whatever had caused this clearly had an agenda. But until he knew what was going on, he needed to secure his position. The key cards.
He began systematically teleporting into each unconscious competitor's room, checking their pockets, pouches, and belts for their key cards. One by one, he gathered them up, slipping them into his dimensional storage. Some part of him knew this felt wrong, but survival instincts overrode guilt. There was no way he'd risk his spot in the tournament over something he didn't understand.
As Magnus collected the last few cards, he paused when he arrived at Tim's unconscious body. He stood there for a moment, looking down at his unconscious teammate. His hand hovered over Tim's key card, hesitation gnawing at him. Tim had already made a mistake earlier by trying to steal his card, but this felt different. Tim trusted him, at least for now.
Guilt clawed at Magnus. "This is for the greater good," he muttered to himself, trying to rationalize the decision. His survival depended on staying in the tournament, and if everyone else was down, who knew what could happen next?
Steeling himself, Magnus grabbed Tim's key card, tucking it away in his dimensional storage like the others.
With his collection complete, Magnus teleported back into his room. His mind buzzed with questions—what had caused this? Was this some hidden phase of the tournament? And most importantly, why wasn't he affected like the others?
Before he could dwell on it further, Magnus reached for his communication device. He needed to check on Ava. If whatever this was had spread beyond the tournament...
He dialed quickly, his heart pounding as the call connected. After a few tense moments, Ava's face appeared on the screen. She looked annoyed, but healthy.
"Magnus, finally! Why did you hang up earlier?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Relief flooded through him. She was okay. "Sorry, Ava. Something weird's happening at the tournament. I needed to make sure you're alright."
Ava's eyes narrowed. "Weird? What do you mean?"
"Everyone here just... passed out. They're all unconscious, but I'm still awake. I don't know why." Magnus tried to explain as calmly as he could, but even saying it out loud didn't make sense.
Ava frowned. "That sounds bad. But I'm fine—still awake, and no one's come by to check on me. I'll keep an eye out though."
"Good," Magnus replied, his gaze flicking to the door. "Stay safe, okay?"
Just as he was about to say goodbye, his door burst open with a violent slam. The sound reverberated through the room, and Magnus immediately jumped up, mana dagger forming in his hand. His eyes widened as he saw who stood in the doorway.
Tri Tran, the martial arts master himself, strode in, his face twisted in fury. His usually calm and composed demeanor was gone, replaced with raw anger.
"What did you do, Magnus?!" Tri shouted, his voice booming with accusation. His eyes were ablaze with suspicion, and he seemed ready to tear Magnus apart.
Magnus tightened his grip on the dagger, heart racing. "What are you talking about?"
Tri stepped forward, his gaze piercing. "Don't play dumb. Everyone is unconscious, and you're the only one left standing. What did you do?!"
Magnus's mind raced for an answer, but before he could respond, Tri's voice dropped, laced with cold disbelief. "This tournament was supposed to find the worthiest Ascender through challenges. But if you're just going to steal your way through it... then you're not worthy."
Magnus opened his mouth to protest, but Tri raised a hand. "If you're so innocent, prove it. A one-on-one duel. Right here. Right now. If you win, I'll believe you. If not—" Tri's eyes darkened. "You're done."
Magnus clenched his jaw. He didn't know what was going on, but he couldn't back down now. "Fine," he said, stepping into the center of the room, mana dagger crackling in his hand. "Let's settle this."
Tri Tran's eyes remained fixed on Magnus as he spoke with a low, commanding voice, "Teleport us to the dojo. Now."
Magnus hesitated for only a second, glancing around his room before nodding. He visualized the empty sparring dojo on the lower levels of the tournament complex and, in a blink, the two of them vanished from the room, reappearing in the middle of the polished wooden floor of the dojo.
The room was vast and dimly lit, with only the faint glow of mana lamps casting long shadows on the walls. A set of weapons hung in the far corner, but Tri didn't spare them a glance. Instead, he took several steps back, giving them enough room to fight.
Tri's expression hardened as he faced Magnus. "You're an Ascender. I'm not. I can't use mana, and I won't need to. But for this fight, you'll only be allowed to use your mana weapon—nothing else. No teleporting, no enhanced strength, no barriers. Just you and your dagger."
Magnus' grip tightened on his mana dagger, and he felt the familiar weight of his advantage slip away. No skills? That leveled the playing field more than he was comfortable with, but he couldn't afford to back down now.
"Fine," Magnus replied, suppressing the unease rising in his chest.
Tri's fists clenched as he assumed his stance, legs braced, body poised with a stillness that made Magnus' skin prickle. He'd seen Tri fight before—this man didn't need mana to be deadly.
Magnus activated his Mana Eyes to study Tri's movements. The glowing blue overlay of mana signatures that usually revealed weaknesses in an opponent offered no advantage here; Tri's aura was controlled, compact, and without the typical fluctuations of an Ascender. There was nothing to read.
Magnus lunged first, slashing his mana dagger in a swift arc toward Tri's side. But before the blade could make contact, Tri's arm shot out with precision, his palm meeting the flat of the mana dagger. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air, and Magnus felt the force reverberate up his arm.
Stumbling back a few steps, Magnus blinked in disbelief. He hadn't expected that kind of raw strength. Tri wasted no time, closing the distance and launching a series of sharp, controlled punches. Magnus barely managed to dodge, twisting out of the way and slicing at Tri's legs. Again, Tri blocked, this time with his forearm, and the same concussive shockwave erupted, forcing Magnus back even farther.
"Damn it!" Magnus muttered under his breath. He tried to read Tri's movements, but each time his dagger swung, Tri was there—blocking, countering, and pushing him back.
The third time Magnus went in for a strike, aiming for Tri's ribs, the martial artist intercepted the blade with a downward chop, knocking it out of Magnus' hand. Another shockwave burst through the dojo, and Magnus was thrown off balance, skidding back on the wooden floor.
Tri didn't relent. He charged, throwing a fist toward Magnus' face. Instinctively, Magnus raised his arms to block, but at the last moment, Tri's fist veered away, slamming into Magnus' chest instead.
The force of the blow knocked the wind from Magnus' lungs, sending him staggering back. But it wasn't just a simple punch—Tri's hand twisted sharply as it connected with Magnus' chest, the rotation creating a spiraling force that drilled deep into his torso.
"Piercing Tornado!" Tri bellowed, his voice echoing in the dojo as Magnus was flung backward, crashing hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs again, and for a moment, he couldn't move, couldn't even think.
Gasping for air, Magnus managed to get to his feet, clutching his chest where Tri had struck him. His vision swam, and his whole body throbbed from the shockwaves. His mana dagger lay discarded a few feet away, flickering weakly.
Tri stood tall, his gaze steady. "I'm giving you one more chance, Magnus. Prove yourself, or this fight is over."