Chapter 1457: Unshaken Under Pressure
The match-ups had turned out exactly the way Raze had hoped, and with the order of battles arranged, he found himself scheduled to go last. That suited him perfectly. His plan wasn’t only to fight, it was also to watch, to wait, and to prepare for what came afterward.
What he wanted most was the opportunity to present himself directly to Ibarin. Maybe, if his match ended the way he expected, Ibarin would accuse him of cheating, of trickery, or of manipulation. Maybe the head of the academy would descend into the arena personally, trying to deal with the situation himself. And if that happened, it would finally give Raze the chance to expose him, to show everyone who Ibarin really was beneath his carefully polished mask.
If not today, then Raze was determined to make it happen during one of the final events. He believed strongly that by the last day, Ibarin’s anger and pride would be far too volatile to contain. And if for some reason it still didn’t happen, Raze already had a backup plan, a surefire method to drag Ibarin from his seat and down onto the battlefield, where he could no longer hide.
But all of that was for later. For now, the attention of the entire arena shifted as the next two competitors stepped onto the field. Liam walked calmly to his designated spot, the crowd cheering so loudly that their voices blended into a constant wave of noise. On the opposite side stood George, the Central Academy’s representative. The applause for him was just as loud. It wasn’t as though the audience was siding with one fighter over the other, they simply wanted a spectacular clash, and this match promised to deliver exactly that.
Liam held his wand at the ready, the polished wood glinting faintly beneath the arena lights. George eyed the weapon and gave a mocking smirk.
“Are you sure you want to rely on that wand instead of your sword? If you don’t, you might lose this match before it even begins,” George taunted, his voice carrying across the field.
Liam’s answer came quickly, calm but sharp.
“If you want me to draw my sword, then prove you’re worth it. From what I’ve seen of you so far, I don’t even need it to beat you.”
Their words set the crowd buzzing, anticipation spiking higher than ever. Then the signal came, and the match began.
Many watching believed that the opening moments would decide everything. If Liam failed to land an early blow and George was allowed to bring his gravitational magic fully into play, then the outcome would be all but decided.
Liam didn’t hesitate. The instant the match started, he raised his wand and unleashed a strike of lightning, fast, heavy, and crackling with energy. The bolt ripped through the air, a streak of blinding white and blue.
George reacted with composed precision. He raised his hand, wrapping it in his own lightning magic, weaving the energy expertly. When the bolt reached him, the lightning didn’t explode against his body. Instead, it bent and wrapped harmlessly around his hand. With a swift motion, he redirected the energy downward, slamming it into the ground instead of himself.
“He has incredible lightning control,” Panla remarked from the sidelines, her voice filled with awe. “To intercept someone else’s lightning strike like that, he would need not only an affinity and mana equal to the attack, but also nearly flawless mana control. He’s no ordinary opponent. This won’t be easy at all.”
But Raze, watching closely, wasn’t impressed in the same way. He knew something the others didn’t. The lightning in that attack hadn’t truly come from Liam. The wand carried the lightning affinity; Liam had only supplied the speed and the force of his Qi. The bolt had looked devastating, but in truth, the affinity behind it wasn’t Liam’s own. To someone like Raze, the trick was obvious.
Then George lifted his hand again. With a dramatic motion, he thrust it toward the ground. His voice carried confidently across the arena.
“It looks like this is where you lose!”
Gravitational magic spread instantly, unseen but crushing, saturating the air and pressing downward. From the moment George had entered the arena, he had been confident. His magic could cover the entire battlefield at once. To him, victory was a matter of inevitability.
The ground beneath Liam cracked and sank slightly, proof that the spell was in effect. But Liam stood there completely fine, not even straining, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
George’s brow furrowed. His spell was active, he could feel the gravitational pull, see the pressure fracture the earth. So why was Liam unaffected? Why was he still standing tall, as if nothing had happened at all?
The reason was simple. Pagna warriors were trained to strengthen their bodies to extremes, their Qi reinforcing muscles and bones far beyond the limits of ordinary humans. The weight George conjured was heavy, but to Liam it felt like little more than a nuisance. He had endured far worse before. The Qi forged by Sha Mo’s energy, the crushing force he had once trained under, was on an entirely different level from this.
“Hah!” Liam laughed loudly, raising his arms into the air with ease. “This is it? This is the so-called gravitational magic everyone was so worried about? Did you pay off the last student just to make yourself look stronger?”
His mocking words spread quickly through the arena, whispers rippling among the crowd. Could it be true? Had George manipulated his earlier opponent? How else could Liam stand so effortlessly beneath such crushing magic?
George grit his teeth and slammed his other hand downward. Instantly, the gravitational force doubled. The cracks in the floor deepened, the stone groaning under the pressure. But Liam still stood unfazed, not even bending his knees. He took a slow, deliberate step forward. The wand in his hand vanished into thin air.
“I expected so much more from a so-called top mage,” Liam said, his grin widening. “You’ll never even come close to my level. Let me show you what the real difference between us looks like.”
In that moment, Liam summoned his true weapon, the sword that could cut through anything. The blade shimmered as it appeared, and with a single sweeping motion, he sliced through the air. To the crowd, it almost looked like he had conjured a gust of wind magic. But the truth was far more terrifying, the sword had severed George’s gravitational magic completely.
The oppressive weight vanished in an instant. George gasped as he felt it, his mana connection severed, his spell cut apart as though it had never existed.
’These students from Wilton… just how strong are they?’ George thought, his confidence shaken for the first time.
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Chapter 1458: A Sharp Sword
George was not just another student, he was a skilled mage with years of discipline behind him, one who had cultivated a strong affinity with the rare and difficult art of gravitational magic. From the beginning of his training, he had faced a multitude of teachers and countless sparring partners, each encounter meant to refine his control, to shape his unusual affinity into something sharp and practical.
Because the truth was this: no one wanted an affinity that had no practical use. The more unique the magic, the more important it was to prove its worth. Surprisingly, the way to increase the strength of gravitational affinity wasn’t solely through mana refinement or meditation. It was tied directly to the body of the user. To grow stronger, the wielder of such magic had to endure it themselves, using their own affinity on their body, forcing themselves to carry the crushing weight day after day, and undergoing immense physical training to withstand the pressure.
That was why George, unlike most mages, carried such an impressive physique. His body had been tempered under endless strain. He knew firsthand the brutal weight of his own gravity, the crushing burden that could cripple anyone else. He had pushed himself to his limits and beyond, until he had reached what many believed was the peak of his gravitational power. To try and push further was said to be too dangerous, a risk even his hardened body could not endure.
Most mages never dared such things. Mages did not strengthen their bodies, at least, not traditionally. It was not their way. A talented one might try to resist gravitational pressure with spells, using clever manipulation of magic to lessen the weight or to strike the source from above. Yet even teachers, skilled and experienced, had struggled against George’s gravity. Slowed, pinned, forced to stagger under the unseen pressure, every single one of them had felt its effect.
That was why facing Liam was so shocking. He stood there under George’s spell as though nothing pressed against him at all. There was no counterspell, no shimmering aura of resistance, no clever trick of magic. He was simply standing, unbothered, as though George’s gravitational field didn’t exist. That was the first shock. The second came when his magic itself was cut, severed in a way George had never experienced.
It was not uncommon for opponents to escape the range of his gravity, nor for powerful spells to clash and weaken it. But this was different. The connection between George’s mana and his gravitational field had been broken
. It was as if his spell had been sliced apart at the root.
“Damn it! Damn it, damn it!” George roared, frustration breaking through as his thoughts spiraled. Who was this opponent?
Desperation drove him forward. In one hand, he gathered lightning and hurled it forward in a crackling strike. The bolt cut through the air at blinding speed, but Liam simply swung his sword in an arcing motion. The blade cut the strike apart, dispersing its energy as he continued moving forward unfazed.
George clenched his teeth and immediately conjured a fireball, hurling it with precision. Liam reacted in an instant, twisting his body mid-jump, spinning as his blade sliced cleanly through the roaring flame. The fireball split into two halves, flames parting harmlessly around him.
George refused to stop. He poured spell after spell into the air, cycling through affinity after affinity. Earth, water, fire, lightning, he unleashed them all, each spell large, precise, and versatile. If anyone had been watching just George, they would have been impressed. His mastery over multiple elements was undeniable, his control refined to near perfection.
But the crowd wasn’t talking about George’s skills. Not a single voice praised his versatility. All attention was on Liam. For every spell George cast, Liam cut it down. Every element was split apart, neutralized, destroyed. Step by step, Liam advanced, his blade shining as he closed the distance.
“How is he able to do that? How can a magic swordsman move like that?” voices from the crowd cried out in disbelief.
“My only guess is wind magic,” one spectator theorized quickly. “He must have used a massive amount of wind magic to break free of the gravity earlier, and now he’s coating his sword with it. Look at the speed, he has to be channeling it constantly as he swings.”
“He’s focusing all of his concentration on keeping the wind around his blade, while maintaining those fast movements,” another added. “The control it must take… it’s insane.”
The theory spread quickly, becoming the leading explanation for what they were witnessing. No one could have guessed the truth, that Liam’s weapon was one of the most powerful artifacts in existence. With a single swing, it could cut through anything.
Of course, not everything came from the sword alone. Liam himself was no ordinary fighter. He infused his Qi into every motion, using it to push magic away from his body, to disrupt spells even as his sword severed them. Cutting flames in half was one thing, but deflecting their heat and force required his Qi as well. The two worked together seamlessly, artifact and warrior.
As Liam pressed closer, George’s desperation peaked. He summoned the iron ball from his ring, his final trump card, and hurled it with all his might. Gravity wrapped around it, accelerating it to lightning speed, a deadly projectile meant to crush anything in its path.
But Liam was unshaken. With one downward swing, his blade cleaved the iron ball in half, splitting it cleanly. The two pieces flew past him, missing him completely.
And then, in the blink of an eye, Liam leapt. Qi surged beneath his feet, propelling him forward like a gale of wind. His motion blurred, as though he were carried by magic itself. When he landed, his blade was already at George’s neck.
“It appears,” Liam said, smiling calmly, “that I’ve won this match. Don’t you think?”
The arena fell silent for a beat, before the reality sank in. Once again, just like in the events before, Central Academy had lost.
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Chapter 1459: An Angry Magus
The sword’s gleaming edge hovered just a hair’s breadth from George’s throat. The swing had been swift, deadly precise, and it left no doubt in anyone’s mind, if Liam had truly wanted to, he could have ended George’s life in that very instant. But he hadn’t.
It was strange, unsettling even. As he lowered the blade, Liam had half-expected one of the teachers to step forward, to intercept the strike, to raise a hand and call the match in his favor. Surely someone would declare him the victor. And yet no one moved. No interruption came. Was it possible they all trusted him to have perfect control over his weapon? Or was it something else, perhaps their desperate hope that George still had something left to give, some miracle he could pull from the depths to turn the tide?
But that miracle never came. At least, Liam thought it hadn’t. To him, the battle was over, the result obvious.
“I… lost?” George whispered. His voice cracked as though the word itself was poison in his throat. His eyes were locked on Liam, but they didn’t seem focused. It was as if he were staring past him, unwilling to accept what stood right before him.
Then his shock twisted into fury. “No, I can’t lose!” he roared, his voice echoing across the arena. His hand lashed out, his gravitational magic flaring violently. At this close range, the effect was magnified; if he managed to touch his opponent, it would become far more devastating.
George rarely resorted to this tactic. Most battles were fought at range, spell against spell. But once, against opponents too weak to matter, he had tested it, using his gravitational magic through direct contact. The results had been terrifying, overwhelming. He knew exactly what it was capable of.
Even so, some part of him realized that grabbing Liam himself was unlikely. Liam was too fast, too sharp. So instead, George reached for the sword.
’No… you fool!’ Liam thought, panic surging through him. ’If you grab this sword, it will cut straight through your hand!’
His mind raced with the image: blood spraying, George’s hand severed clean, the horrified gasps of the audience. And in the aftermath, the blame would fall squarely on him. They would accuse him of going too far, of recklessness, of cruelty. All of it would be pinned on Liam, not on George’s desperation.
With no time to think further, Liam acted. He triggered the nanomachines within his body, synchronizing them with his Qi. His arm jerked upward with blinding speed, pulling the blade away just as George’s hand closed around nothing but empty air.
But the system in his body had already calculated the next step. It offered him a solution, and like so many times before, Liam trusted it. His leg snapped up, driving into George’s stomach with incredible force.
The kick landed with the weight of a hammer. George’s body lifted from the ground, launched backward like a ragdoll. He slammed into the barrier wall with bone-rattling force. The protective enchantment shuddered violently, a shockwave rippling outward, climbing all the way up the dome until it rattled the very top. The echo of the impact thundered across the arena.
When George fell, he did not rise. His body slumped to the floor, motionless, unconscious.
Liam lowered his foot, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. Then, with a mischievous grin, he threw his voice into the arena. “Windy Wind Kick!” he declared with exaggerated confidence.
The crowd erupted in cheers, laughter spilling over into applause. The fight had ended long before, but this sealed it. George, once hailed as one of Central Academy’s strongest, was lying defeated, not even twitching.
And yet the audience seized on Liam’s words instantly.
“Did you see that? He enhanced his kick with wind magic!”
“Of course! If he can coat his blade with wind sharp enough to slice through spells, then strengthening a strike with the same magic makes sense. No wonder it hit so hard!”
“Right! As a magic swordsman, it’s only natural he’d want to enhance his close-range strength. The lightning magic is just to control the range. He lures his opponent in, then crushes them with his true skills.”
“Such versatility… that’s what makes him so dangerous.”
Liam nearly laughed aloud. He was always grateful for how mages loved to overthink. They were so quick to analyze, to theorize, to explain what they didn’t understand. It spared him the trouble. With the system’s guidance, he always had an excuse ready, but most of the time, he didn’t even need it. The crowd built their own explanations, and all he had to do was nod and let them believe it.
If pressed, he would simply echo their theories, pick whichever lie sounded the most convincing. That was enough.
As the cheers rolled on, Liam gave a final wave before stepping onto the platform that lowered him back down to his team.
“Well, well, well,” Wilton said, his grin splitting wide as Liam returned. “I knew this day would come. They always say the same thing, don’t they? That every empire, no matter how strong, will eventually fall.”
The other principals turned toward him sharply, disbelief etched on their faces. To them, Wilton looked like a madman. Because in that very instant, the swirling storm of mana pouring from Ibarin was unmistakable. It pressed into the air like a suffocating weight, thick and violent, crushing down on everyone present. Even seasoned magi found it difficult to breathe.
But Wilton only smiled brighter, his eyes alight with satisfaction, as though he were reveling in his rival’s fury.
“There is still one fight left,” Wilton continued, his voice carrying like a blade through the heavy air. “And after it’s finished, I imagine you’ll have no choice but to speak with your friends, the other Grand Magus. You’ll have to reconsider your support. Because all of this…” His grin widened. “All of this is for the greater good of Altieran.”
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