To say the Shadari were scary would be an overstatement; they were simply optimized for stealth. Their strength lay in their ability to remain unseen, to blend into the surroundings, making them masters of subtlety rather than intimidation. Their choice of attire, nothing more than a fabric that resembled a veil, made perfect sense for their specialization. To them, wearing traditional armor was akin to lighting a fire on a scorching summer day to keep warm—a completely counterproductive choice. The veil-like material both absorbed and distorted light, leaving many to wonder if it was part of the Shadari’s skin or simply a unique uniform. This baffling effect was all the viewers could discern from the livestream feed, which struggled to capture a clear image of the fighter. The sight—or lack thereof—was enough to rekindle a flicker of hope among the audience, who had almost given up any optimism after watching previous fights that only reinforced Aron’s seemingly insurmountable stren

[A/N Sorry for the messy upload I had exams last week and needed to prepare for them.]The arena returned to its customary silence, its vast expanse now eerily still. At most, it had hosted two occupants at a time during the matches, but now only one figure remained—a steadfast presence who had not left since stepping foot inside. It was the same person who had dominated from the start: Aron.Aron stood in the center of the arena, patiently waiting for the mandatory twenty-minute rest period to pass. The break had been imposed by the AI referee, not for his benefit but to address a pressing issue. Although his previous explosion had been meticulously contained within his shield, some of the vibrations had rippled outward, impacting the Colosseum.Given that several pieces of equipment were already running on backup systems due to his earlier bouts, the AI deemed it necessary to pause the proceedings. The downtime allowed for essential diagnostics to ensure everything was functioning p

While Aron was still processing the abrupt announcement, Nova seized the opportunity to provide a potential explanation.{My theory is this: mental attacks function like inserting a conduit or a pipe between the caster and the target. If the target’s mental defenses are stronger than the attack can penetrate, the attack rebounds. The returning force matches the strength of the target's mental defenses. Given the system’s unknown yet undoubtedly superior level, it’s likely that the Zelvora fighter’s brain was effectively turned into mush from the backlash.}Aron listened attentively as Nova continued her analysis.{This situation would have been even more dangerous for the Zelvora because the attack initially succeeded before the system activated its defense. The connection was at its strongest when the system canceled the attack, meaning the Zelvora’s mental defenses were completely unprepared for the rebound’s intensity. And due to the connection, he was at his weakest when the backl

{Now that he's completed coordinate mapping, the entire area around here can be considered his domain. Anywhere you stop becomes a point where he can launch an attack almost instantaneously. You must keep moving,} Nova informed Aron, her tone urgent. Aron, still on the move, absorbed her words while enduring the fading pain from the backlash caused by his forcibly broken rune. Unlike the damage that healed seamlessly when the spatial hole vanished, the destruction caused by the spatial lightning lingered.Aron commanded, quickly tethering the flight runes to Nova through the rune computer interface embedded in his armor. This delegation was possible due to the system's design, allowing him to offload control of pre-existing runes while retaining the crucial role of mana provider.With Nova now in control of the flight runes and fully synchronized with Aron's intentions, she immediately maneuvered away from the Trinarian fighter. Her primary objective was to determine the extent of th

The arena fell into a deafening silence as the raging flames and spatial distortions dissipated, leaving behind the shattered remnants of the Colosseum grounds. The air was heavy with tension, and a collective shiver ran through the spectators. All eyes scoured the battlefield, yet Aron was nowhere to be seen. A chilling thought began to take hold among the crowd—the possibility that the emperor had perished, his very existence erased by the devastating spatial attack.Despite their racing thoughts, no one dared to start celebrating or mourning. By now, they had grown accustomed to the unpredictable nature of such battles, where outcomes often defied expectations. Until the AI referee officially announced the fight's conclusion, they clung to the belief that Aron was still alive somewhere. For his supporters, this belief offered a glimmer of hope and reassurance. Conversely, for those rooting for his downfall, it was a lingering frustration—a maddening delay to the victory they so des