The orb was finally in Lucian's grip. All he had to do now—was break it.
But before he could react, the crimson-clad figure lunged. His weight slammed into Lucian, knocking him down once more. They tumbled to the ground, dust kicking up, and the stranger landed on top of him.
Still—Lucian didn't let go.
His fingers clenched tighter, refusing to release the glowing sphere.
And then—he crushed it.
A sharp crack echoed through the air as the Orb of Stamina shattered in his palm.
In the next instant, a brilliant surge of golden light burst outward, engulfing Lucian's entire body. It wasn't warm—it was blazing. Power rushed through him, invading every cell, every nerve, every shattered ounce of will.
In just three seconds, everything changed.
His exhaustion vanished.
His limbs stopped shaking.
His lungs expanded freely, and his mind sharpened like a blade.
Lucian stood.
Stronger than before.
Not only was his full stamina restored, but now—he had a double stamina regeneration boost for thirty minutes and a twenty percent overall increase in stamina. His body surged with vitality. He could feel his pulse pounding—not in desperation, but strength.
The figure backed away, panic overtaking his previously calm tone.
"Um, l-look," he stammered, stepping back slowly, hands raised, "I didn't mean any harm. I was just… curious, that's all! I swear. Please… let me go, I won't bother you again."
He didn't even have a Wrath or a Will. He was just a normal participant.
He was terrified.
And rightly so.
Lucian rose to his full height, dusting off his clothes. His face was expressionless—his gaze like ice.
He raised his right hand, index finger extended as if mimicking a pistol.
The stranger froze.
Lucian tilted his head, eyes narrowing.
"Bang."
A thin bolt of lightning sparked at the tip of his finger, condensing into a sharp, bullet-like arc. It sliced through the air with lethal precision, piercing straight through the man's chest and exiting into a nearby tree trunk with a hiss of scorched bark.
The figure collapsed immediately—disappearing into particles of light.
Lucian had eliminated him.
+5 Points.
If the entire team had been taken down, he would've earned ten. But for now, five would do.
Miles away, Lucas had already found and crushed his own Orb of Stamina. His stamina surged back, and like Lucian, he received the double regen and bonus pool. Now fully restored, the two of them turned toward the same destination.
The center.
With the 2x recovery active, every drop of stamina they burned while boosting their speed was instantly replenished. Their bodies became blurs—cutting through the battlefield like streaks of lightning. Their speed increased nearly fivefold, and what should have taken half an hour… would now take just five minutes.
But they weren't alone.
Dozens of contestants had already begun crowding the center, frantically searching for the rumored Orbs of Stamina.
But none would find them.
Because neither orb had landed at the center.
Far from the center, two forces continued to clash.
Huang Qi and Ethan. Equal in raw skill. Equal in grit.
But not in control.
Huang Qi had the edge. His calm, focused movements wore down Ethan, who was struggling to match his pace. The young monk's techniques were efficient—minimalist—but brutal.
Every exchange pushed Ethan further back.
And not far from them, Josè began to stir.
His eyes fluttered open, blurred vision revealing shifting shadows and muffled movement.
His head throbbed.
His body refused to rise.
But he was waking up.
The battle wasn't over.
Not yet.
The center of the battlefield had become a boiling storm of chaos.
Dozens of participants swarmed the area—some locked in brutal clashes, others moving like shadows, scouting and stalking. Everyone was searching for one thing: the Orb of Stamina. But it was nowhere to be found. The rumors, the theories, the suspicion—they all spiraled into violence. Distrust bloomed like wildfire. Participants began attacking each other, assuming someone must've already picked up the orb and was hiding it.
But none of them knew the truth.
The orbs weren't here.
They never were.
They'd landed at the edges—one in the north, claimed by Lucian, and the other in the south, now fueling Lucas. Neither of them had planned it… but instinct, timing, and sheer luck had worked in their favor.
Now, they were closing in—two storms approaching the battlefield's heart.
Meanwhile, the center remained unaware.
A few participants lay sprawled across the dirt, gasping for breath or completely unconscious—easy prey. Energy drained, bodies twitching with fatigue. They were more like free points now, ripe for elimination.
The audience watching on their crimson screens were thrilled. No one had predicted the drop zones would be so far from the center. No one had expected Lucian and Lucas to not only locate them—but use them before the rest even realized what had happened. It was a tactical play neither brute force nor power alone could replicate.
Lucian was a blur now—cutting across the terrain. Every few steps, he'd pause just long enough to spot an unconscious participant and press his fingers to them. Eliminated. Five points. Then ten. Then fifteen. He was racking them up with surgical precision. There was no hesitation—no mercy.
At the same time, Lucas was closing the distance from the opposite side, carving his path with equal efficiency. His eyes scanned constantly, tracking motion, isolating threats—and executing with cold precision.
But the center wasn't undefended.
The Japanese swordswoman was a tempest in her own right. Her movements flowed like water—sharp, clean, and efficient. By now, she had taken down several strong participants on her own, using her katana with such speed that most didn't even realize they'd been cut until the pain set in seconds later.
She wasn't slowing down.
And neither was anyone else.
Elsewhere, a different story was unfolding.
Josè had regained his footing. Blood still trailed from his mouth and nose, but his eyes were sharp now—alive with renewed purpose. His Will had flared within him, reactivating his stats and enhancing his body to peak condition. Energy pulsed through his veins like fire.
He stood tall beside Ethan, who was breathing heavily but still defiant.
Huang Qi faced them alone, unbothered.
Josè stretched his arms, cracking his knuckles. "You ready?" he asked Ethan without looking at him.
Ethan spat blood to the side and gave a half-smirk. "I was born ready."
And with that, they surged forward—twin assaults crashing toward the child monk.
Huang Qi didn't flinch.
Two versus one.
But he didn't back down.
Not even a step.
Lucian and Lucas were now dangerously close to the center.
From their vantage points, they could see the chaos erupting ahead—dozens of contestants locked in combat, each one desperate for dominance. Some fought for points. Others believed the Orb of Stamina was hidden among the crowd. What they didn't know… was that both orbs had already been consumed.
By the two figures now closing in.
Lucas's eyes shimmered with electric intensity. Every dash he made left behind a trail of crackling violet sparks. His enhanced stamina recovery kicked in every second, nullifying the cost of his rapid movement. It was as if the ground itself bent for him, assisting his steps.
Then—he stopped.
He raised his right arm high, fingers splayed, palm open wide. Sparks danced wildly across his skin before gathering into his palm—twisting, combining, condensing.
Within seconds, a ball of surging purple lightning—roughly the size of a football—formed in his hand, pulsating with volatile energy.
"Electro Ball!!" he shouted, voice booming across the battlefield.
And with a fierce throw, he launched it into the center of the brawling crowd.
The orb crashed into the ground like a thunder god's judgment.
BOOM!
A brilliant burst of electric energy exploded outwards, engulfing a 5-meter radius. Contestants who'd been locked in battle were thrown back, their bodies convulsing mid-air before crashing down in silence—eliminated. The shockwave didn't stop there—it carved a hemispherical crater nearly two meters deep into the earth, the ground scorched black with seared outlines of those who had been caught within.
Lucian, approaching from the opposite side, saw the detonation.
His eyes narrowed as the violet sparks faded from the impact zone.
"Lucas…" he muttered, a grin stretching across his face.
He didn't need to see him. The lightning told him everything.
Blue electricity surged through Lucian's veins, coursing down his arms and coating both his hands in a fierce, crackling aura. His fingers twitched with raw voltage, and his body leaned forward, crouched—ready to strike.
Then he vanished.
Lightning Dash.
He rocketed forward like a bolt of living thunder, every step a crackle, every move a blur.
And he wasn't subtle.
Any participant unfortunate enough to be in his path was met with ruthless efficiency—a palm to the chest that pierced through the heart, a swift chop that severed a neck, a direct jolt of lightning that paralyzed and dropped them flat.
One by one, they fell.
Lucian carved a path of blue and blood straight toward the origin of the purple blast—toward Lucas.
The Japanese swordswoman had seen enough.
The way Lucian and Lucas were tearing through contestants—like twin storms of death—was too dangerous to ignore. If she waited any longer, they would claim most of the remaining points for themselves. Her grip tightened on her crimson katana as her eyes locked onto Lucian. I have to act now...
Meanwhile, Lucian and Lucas were closing in on each other, a trail of fallen participants behind them—each one eliminated with brutal precision.
Finally, they stood face-to-face.
Lucas smirked, sparks still dancing around his fingertips. "You finally arrived."
Lucian gave a short nod. "Yeah."
Their goals were the same: eliminate as many as possible and become adventurers. No hesitation. No mercy.
But just as Lucian exhaled, preparing to dash again—
He felt it.
A faint whistle of air. A disturbance cutting through the battlefield's static. His instincts screamed, and his hands—still crackling with blue lightning—moved before his mind could catch up.
He swung his right hand up, catching something mid-air with a loud metallic clash. Sparks burst out as his palm clamped around the sharp edge of a flying katana—deep crimson in color.
Lucian gritted his teeth as the blade vibrated in his grip. His gaze snapped behind him.
There she was.
The Japanese swordswoman. Calm. Focused. Dangerous.
Before Lucas could even react, Lucian's left hand surged forward in a deadly arc, aiming to take her head clean off—
But then—
CRASH!!
From the sky above, two figures fell like meteors.
Ethan and Josè.
They landed between the trio, slamming into the ground hard and sending up a shockwave of dust and debris. Lucian's strike diverted just in time, narrowly missing the swordswoman's neck. She leapt back, blade spinning, eyes narrowed.
And above them all—
Still airborne—
Was Huang Qi.
Suspended mid-air like a phantom, his palm already cocked back.
Then—he struck.
A single palm thrust sent a compressed shockwave of air barreling down. It didn't aim for anyone in particular—but it pushed everyone back.
The impact launched Lucian, Lucas, Ethan, Josè, and even the swordswoman several meters away from each other, scattering them like chess pieces after a table-flip.
They landed, rolling, sliding—but all on their feet.
Breathing heavy. Muscles tensed.
And now?
Everything was about to erupt.
But how did they arrived here?
20 minutes ago:
Josè and Ethan stood side by side, bruised, bloodied, yet burning with resolve. They were tired—but not defeated. Not yet.
Josè dashed first, a low, sweeping motion aiming a vicious kick toward Huang Qi's knee. Ethan followed immediately, leaping over Josè's back to launch a fist straight toward the child's face.
But Huang… Huang didn't flinch.
With a calm breath and sharp precision, he caught both attacks—Josè's leg in his left palm, Ethan's fist in his right—and with one fluid motion, he spun, redirecting their momentum and tossing them in opposite directions.
Before Ethan could regain balance, Huang blitzed forward—his tiny feet gliding like a phantom—and closed in on Josè, whose body hadn't even landed properly yet. He struck at Josè's pressure points, swift, targeted, brutal.
But Ethan came to intercept—grabbing the back of Huang's tattered robe and hurling him into the air with a roar. Then, without pause, Ethan reached out, caught Josè's arm, and with a powerful swing, threw his comrade upward.
Josè twisted mid-air and slammed his boot into Huang's face.
Blood sprayed from Huang Qi's nose.
The boy's feet touched down. He wiped the blood with the back of his sleeve. No more restraint. His eyes glinted with something cold—something ancient.
All three of them were now torn, their clothes ripped at the seams, their chests heaving with exhaustion. Josè looked the worst—barely holding on, but refusing to fall.
Together, Josè and Ethan charged again. The sky around them turned chaotic—a blur of fists, elbows, knees, palms clashing in a furious storm of martial fury. Lightning-fast exchanges erupted, blocks and counters trading like fire.
Huang Qi staggered. Then retaliated.
One palm strike to Ethan's jaw.
A spinning heel to Josè's shoulder.
For twenty long minutes, they clashed like legends—until, without even realizing it, they had fought their way to the sky above the center battlefield.
Fighters paused mid-combat, looking up at them.
Then… it happened.
Huang Qi grabbed both Ethan and Josè mid-air—one in each arm.
He spun once.
And hurled them toward the ground like falling stars.
Below, Lucian, Lucas, and the swordswoman turned in shock.
Then came the final blow.
Huang, now descending like judgment itself, thrust his palm down.
A shockwave exploded outwards—sending all five of them hurtling in separate directions.
And in the very center, untouched, stood Huang Qi.
Unmoving.
Unshaken.
Unmatched.
[Time Left: 15 minutes]