The words floated in Ned's vision, glowing faintly as if to etch themselves into his very soul:
Nullify:
Allows the user to neutralize chaotic energy constructs by weaving counteractive mana patterns. Mana needed to nullify a move needs to double of the mana of the move.
The description reverberated in his mind. Ned stared at his reddened hand, still tingling from the strain of pulling off the impossible. He could hardly believe what had just transpired.
Before him, Leo knelt on the ground, his expression an unmasked cocktail of disbelief and defeat. His once-pristine outfit was dirtied, and his sniper lay discarded beside him, as powerless as its wielder. "H-how? That was my ultimate move… My Black Raven. How did you stop it?" Leo stammered, his voice trembling.
Ned, despite the fatigue weighing down his body, managed a smirk. Lifting his reddened hand slightly, he quipped, "Your bird? Tasted like chicken."
Leo's face twisted in frustration, but before he could respond, Ned took a swift step forward, dagger in hand, and aimed it at Leo's neck. The meaning was clear. Exhausted or not, Ned was still the one standing.
The host's voice rang out across the arena, breaking the tension. "The winner of this match, against all odds—Ned Forester!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, a cacophony of celebration and shock. People were on their feet, shouting, clapping, or simply staring in awe at the boy who had just overcome the insurmountable.
The camera zoomed in on Ned as he turned to face the crowd. Raising his fist high, he struck a victorious pose, his face a mixture of relief and triumph. The audience's cheers swelled like a wave crashing against the shore.
From the participants' seating area, reactions were mixed. Zara leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "Lucky fool. That shouldn't have been possible." But despite her words, a small, grudging smile tugged at her lips.
Ambessa, with her imposing stature and unshakable demeanor, clapped once, a faint smirk gracing her face. "Impressive. He's tougher than I thought."
Reena's cheers were the loudest among them. She jumped up, waving her arms. "I knew it! I would have killed him if he didn't win".
Bonita, watching the match from a distance, smiled. "Ned. Strong."
In the VIP section where representatives from prestigious academies sat, a more calculated discussion unfolded. These academies scouted the best talent to train and recruit, and this fight had undoubtedly caught their attention.
An older man with a neatly trimmed beard adjusted his glasses. "A mana-weaving skill that counters chaotic energy? That's unprecedented," he murmured. This was Professor Roland from the Arcane Academy, known for its cutting-edge research.
Beside him, a sharp-eyed woman with silver hair and an air of quiet authority leaned forward. Dr. Illyra, head of combat studies at Titanheart Academy, rubbed her wrist thoughtfully as she watched Ned's victory fist. "Nostalgic, indeed," she murmured.
A younger man with wild blond hair and a confident smirk—Kain Trelhart, an alumni of Stormward Academy—laughed. "Kid's got guts. If he doesn't join us, it's our loss."
Ned exited the arena and headed straight for the infirmary. His body screamed for rest, but his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The feel of the chains, the transformation of the raven, and his desperate gambit—it all replayed in his head, over and over.
After receiving treatment, he returned to the participants' area, only to find a jaw-dropping sight. The next match had already ended, and judging by the murmurs in the air, it hadn't even lasted a minute.
The arena was eerily quiet, save for the hum of whispers. In the center of the battleground lay a participant, unconscious, with tournament staff surrounding them to check their condition.
Standing tall and unscathed was a slim, pale man with white hair and piercing red eyes. Surfer. He radiated an aura of calm control, as though what had just transpired was beneath him. The audience, though stunned, couldn't contain their awe.
From his seat, Ned watched as Surfer turned toward the stands, catching his gaze for the briefest of moments. Surfer's lips curved into a faint smile before he walked back to his seat, his movements unhurried and unbothered.
"Unbelievable," someone whispered nearby.
"Not really," another replied. "This is Surfer we're talking about. The Number 1."
Ned sat down, feeling a mix of awe and determination. Damn, he's cool, no homo though
As the day unfolded, Ned stayed to cheer for his friends. The tension in the arena was palpable, each match showcasing the raw talent of the competitors.
Reena's match stood out for its sheer unpredictability. Her opponent, a brute of a man with a defensive talent, thought he could outlast her. But Reena's nimbleness and clever strategy proved too much. She lured him into exhausting his mana reserves and then struck with precision. Her victory was met with thunderous applause.
Bonita and Marco's fight was a clash of styles. Marco relied on heavy strikes and brute force, while Bonita's hammer skills were extremely calculated and powerful . The match ended with Bonita delivering a decisive blow, his victory earning him a respectful nod from Marco.
Ambessa's fight was nothing short of ferocious. Her raw power overwhelmed her opponent, leaving no doubt about her dominance. Each strike was met with awe from the crowd, her presence on the battlefield almost terrifying.
By the end of the day, the top eight participants were clear:
Ned , Surfer, Allen, Zara, Lucius, Ambessa, Reena, Bonita
As the tournament came to a close for the day, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement and speculation. Who would face whom in the next round? How would Ned fare against such formidable opponents? And what secrets did these competitors still have up their sleeves?
Ned, though exhausted, couldn't suppress the flicker of a smile. I won