Chapter 263: THE LAST FOUR
The crowd held its breath.
On one end of the battlefield stood Adlar Veyron. Though his face looked composed, his fists were clenched, ready for action.
On the other... stood Seraphine Duskblade.
She was wearing a violet cloak that shimmered with lightning-like embroidery and carried a silver-bladed sword that was resting on her shoulder. She looked totally relaxed.
And then ...
Thalan’s loud and clear voice echoed through the arena.
"Begin!"
Adlar moved instantly. He slammed one foot into the ground....
Crack!
Jagged stone pillars erupted toward Seraphine’s position as he leapt forward, both hands crackling with lightning.
"Let’s end this quick," he growled.
Seraphine didn’t panic. She exhaled softly.
And then vanished.
Fwoosh!
Air bent around her form as she slid through the battlefield like a gust of wind, weaving between the earth pillars with graceful, almost lazy precision.
The crowd gasped. "She is... She is fast."
Adlar’s eyes also widened, but he didn’t stop. With a roar, he swung both fists down.
Boom!
A wide shockwave rippled out as a lightning-infused stone hammer erupted from the ground beneath Seraphine’s last position.
But she had already moved like a blurr and was standing behind him now.
Her blade hissed, coated with flames and crackling arcs of lightning.
Adlar turned, only to feel the edge of her sword brush against his shoulder.
Zzzap!
A spark surged through his body. He gritted his teeth and staggered, swiping at her.
But she was gone again.
Above!
He looked up just in time to see her descend like a thunderbolt, her sword poised to strike.
Clang!
He barely raised an earth shield to block the attack, but it shattered upon impact, knocking him back.
"She switches between her mana so fluently." someone whispered from Caelondor’s section.
"Yes, Miss Duskblade. Show them who is boss," came a proud cheer from Solmyr.
Ali Arkman leaned forward in the Arcadia balcony. "She’s fast. Is she really just an A-class? Why does her speed, accuracy and destructive power behind each attack, all of them feel like she is an S-class fighter in reality?" he wondered.
Noah nodded. "True. And it feels like she is suppressing her mana so that no can notice it that she is actually an S-class."
While the rest of the crowd was busy cheering and marveling at the match, Noah and Ali weren’t fooled by the spectacle. Their sharp eyes caught what most others missed.
Though Seraphine’s strikes looked elegant and controlled, the sheer destruction they caused told a different story... her attacks were far beyond the level of an A‑class fighter.
And it wasn’t just them. A few other S-class hunters from various kingdoms had also sensed it.
This tournament was meant strictly for fighters below S-class. So sending an S-class would be a direct violation of the rules.
But since Logan’s purpose in joining wasn’t for fame or reward, Ali wasn’t particularly worried about such things.
The same couldn’t be said for the others. Those who had sensed that overwhelming power were left confused... yet none of them spoke a word. Each kept their thoughts to themselves for their own reasons.
Meanwhile, over at Caelondor’s balcony, both Charles and Robert sat frozen, watching the battle intently.
"What’s going on...?" Charles muttered, brows furrowed. "How the hell is Adlar on the losing side? You’ve got to be kidding me."
Down in the arena, Adlar was panting. Dust clung to his shoulders and hair, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Lightning flickered faintly across his forearms as he clenched his fists.
"Damn it..." he muttered, gritting his teeth.
With a furious roar, he launched forward once more, the ground splitting beneath him.
This time he poured everything into it. lightning surged through his veins and coiled into his fists, wrapped with stone and raw force.
Seraphine, instead of dodging, stepped in.
Her blade shimmered, this time with pure lightning. She slashed upward with a single elegant arc.
Crack!
Lightning burst like fireworks as her blade collided with Adlar’s punch mid-air.
Adlar’s eyes widened.
His entire arm numbed instantly, the bones shivering with the recoil.
Before he could recover, Seraphine was already moving.
She gently stepped forward, pressed her hand against his chest.. no sword, no lightning, just air.
Boom!
A compressed air burst exploded point-blank into Adlar’s torso, sending him flying across the battlefield like a ragdoll.
He crashed into the ground, rolled once... then lay still, twitching.
The arena fell into stunned silence.
Even Logan leaned forward. "I thought Adlar would at least land a hit," he muttered under his breath. "She is strong, surely an S-class."
Thalan walked over calmly, his robes fluttering in the breeze.
He raised his hand and announced, "Winner... Seraphine Duskblade of Solmyr."
For a split second, the silence lingered.
And then...
"YEAHHHHH!"
The Solmyr section erupted in cheers and whistles.
Seraphine sheathed her sword in a slow, practiced motion, and turned away, her expression still unreadable.
Back on the Caelondor balcony, Caelondor’s king’s expression had soured into a storm.
He gripped the side of his throne. "Damn it. How come he lost?! He was our best fighter."
A court mage beside him murmured, "Now only Robert remains, Your Majesty."
The king didn’t respond. His jaw tightened further.
Meanwhile, back in Arcadia’s seating area, Ali smirked.
"The stronger she is, the easier it will be to convince them once Logan defeats her," he said.
Noah nodded. "Yes. I don’t know why Solmyr took such a step, but now that they have sent an S-class hunter, her loss will be a devastating blow to them."
Across the Arena, in Velkar Royal Balcony
King Malrik was not calm.
Not even close.
All of Velkar’s participants had been eliminated.
He clenched his goblet so tightly it cracked.
"Summon the royal alchemists," he growled at his aide. "Prepare something... fitting. I don’t care if it bends the rules. That Arcadian brat is going to bleed."
The person he talked to hesitated, then nodded and vanished.
Malrik’s eyes narrowed on Logan.
As his last fighter lost to logan, he blamed Logan for the poor performance of his own kingdom.
Thalan’s voice boomed again. "With this, our second round ends here. We already have our four finalists for the third round which will be a group fight. More like a battle royal. The four finalists are...
Logan Smith of Arcadia.
Leonard also of Arcadia.
Robert of Caelondor
Seraphine Duskblade of Solmyr"
A tense murmur swept through the audience.
"So it’s Logan vs the three of them," Daliah whispered.
Rowan chuckled bitterly from his seat. "I don’t know how strong he has gotten for real but this next round will be a tough one even for him."
Logan, on the other hand, said nothing.
His eyes stayed on Leonard.
Though they hailed from the same kingdom, his relationship with Leonard was anything but friendly. And all of it was because he hadn’t joined his party when he first registered as a hunter.
A few minutes passed.
Thalan stepped forward for one last time, standing in the middle of the battlefield that was now reconstructed to its earlier state with magic.
"Everyone present, the time has finally come. The time to witness the final round of this year’s showdown of Prowess. To know which kingdom has the strongest A-class fighter."
Cheers erupted.
"All four finalists, head toward the center."
The four finalists, one by one, each of them rose from their seats and slowly made their way toward the stage.
As Logan stood and began walking toward the stage, every pair of eyes from Arcadia remained locked on his back.
"Best of luck, son," Alice whispered softly. Unlike before, she wasn’t overwhelmed with worry or panic. This time, she carried a quiet confidence in him—one that had grown with each of his victories.
Meanwhile, both Daliah and Lilith felt something stir within them. Something unexplainable.
A boy their age was marching forward, unafraid, unwavering, and ready to shake the world.
As the four of them walked, the spectators from the three kingdoms they represented erupted in thunderous cheers.
In contrast, the mood in Velkar and Drahzul’s sections was far from lively. Many of their spectators had already left in disappointment. Only a few remained, just to witness who would claim the championship now that their own had been eliminated.
Soon, Logan, Leonard, Robert, and Seraphine stepped onto the grand stage and took their positions, each facing the others, forming a loose square as tension quietly built around them.
Thalan glanced at each of them in turn. His voice was firm but calm. "Ready?"
All four nodded without hesitation.
Logan’s gaze swept across the other three. Deep down, he already knew what was coming. They’d all come for him first.
Outside the stage, a hushed silence settled over the arena. It was so quiet that even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
And then...
"Begin."
One word. That was all it took.
The very next instant...
Boom!
Dust exploded from the ground as all three, Leonard, Robert, and Seraphine rushed at Logan together, proving his prediction absolutely right.