Chapter 68
Chapter 68
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Round 1 - Match 3 (11)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A massive sword beam sliced across the arena floor, carving a huge gash into it. But just seconds later, the scar began repairing itself on its own.
As if nothing had ever happened, the arena returned to its original smooth state.
However,
that scene was already deeply etched into everyone's minds.
From the spectator stands, cheers erupted—a mix of genuine awe and shock at the Sword King's utterly transcendent power.
"Was that... a sword beam, right?"
"Did he just cleave the arena nearly in half with a single sword beam?!"
"So this is the true power of the Sword King..."
"As expected of the Sword King. He lives up to the name."
Ignoring their frenzy entirely, I began a cold analysis of the match that had just ended.
The Sword King's sword beam was cleaner than any I'd ever seen.
At the very least, his proficiency and understanding surpassed mine.
It carried the profound depth of a true swordsman, beyond the mere power of a skill.
But.
I'd already grasped the scale of strength tied to rank differences from watching the match between 6th place Disconnection and 11th place Ruler.
The previous bout had a five-rank gap, while this one spanned a full ten.
In the end.
It concluded with a single sword beam.
'With a stat gap like this, their clash is pointless.'
Earth, his opponent,
was someone the Sword King didn't even need to exert himself against fully.
Yet from the outset, he'd unleashed his signature skill.
This was a declaration of intent to decisively end it—
not just a show of force, but a demonstration of the main tournament stage's gravity.
No mercy whatsoever.
No sloppy probing or play-acting—an implicit vow.
The Sword King apparently had no desire to tarnish his image.
And with rankings already public, there was no need to conceal his weight class.
I, too, now planned to overwhelm foes purely with stats.
While awaiting the next match, I double-checked the bracket.
The third bout: 2nd place Eok versus 19th place Nickname.
Everyone foresaw Eok's victory—a dull affair, no doubt.
Even so, I pinned one hope on this Nickname guy.
If he could force even a single one of Eok's tricks into the open, that alone would fulfill his role.
Not long after, the system message heralding the next match appeared.
Two figures materialized in the arena's center.
As if to prove the prior match had been the odd one out, no words passed between them.
Eok raised his right hand.
Unlike the Sword King, he offered no flashy display.
The red crystal ring on his middle finger simply emitted a faint glow.
In that instant, my eyes widened ever so slightly.
And simultaneously, razor-sharp crystal shards spawned from the ring, hurtling toward his foe.
Nickname reflexively launched himself aside to dodge, but he couldn't evade shards that altered their trajectory mid-flight.
He flung his body desperately to avoid the incoming assault, but to no avail.
The self-correcting shards perfectly predicted his evasion path.
Pak!
"Keuk!..."
The match ended in one strike.
I furrowed my brow at the sight.
'That ring... just as I thought.'
A red crystal ring.
Its form, the way the crystals manifested—everything matched mine perfectly.
Of course, I already knew he'd cleared Tower Floor 2.
So I'd anticipated he'd possess something potent.
But identical to mine? No way.
Tower rewards per floor weren't uniform, even on the same level.
The community well knew they were somewhat randomized.
'What a coincidence to hit right here. Or did the system deliberately hand us the same item?'
As I mulled this suspicious overlap,
uproar stirred once more in the stands.
"Huh? That attack—it looks familiar."
"Yeah! Identical to what that guy used in round 9!"
"Is the 2nd place that same dude?"
"Nah, different gear."
"Then he has the same skill? Or class?"
Most folks still didn't grasp that items could carry skills. They'd never snagged drops from hunting grounds.
Amid their amateur speculation, I pierced Eok's true aim.
This was blatant provocation.
Aimed squarely at me.
Eok had sent a message through this match:
'I know your power all too well,' and 'I wield something on par.'
In the main tournament's first round, he'd drawn a one-shot anyway.
Seizing the chance, he flaunted the ring to showcase his strength—while shaking my psyche.
I stared at the now-vacant arena where Eok had vanished.
In the interim, the fourth match kicked off.
9th place Sarang versus 15th place Hende.
I paid it scant heed. Just 9 versus 15—no threat to me.
Watched it relaxed, figuring no real analysis needed.
At the start signal, gauntlet-clad Hende charged fiercely at sword-wielding Sarang.
But Sarang stayed cool.
He lightly kicked off the ground, then stepped the air once more to soar up and effortlessly evade.
A bizarre midair footstep.
'That's...'
I'd momentarily forgotten: Eok wasn't the only one who'd challenged the 5th-stage Tower.
I recognized it.
Well, it wasn't a skill, actually.
It was the effect of the title granted to Tower Floor 1 clearers: [Great First Step].
Which meant Eok likely held Floor 2's title too.
And plenty of main tournament qualifiers probably bore that one.
Irrelevant to my thoughts—
the fight raged on.
Sarang, dodging Hende's assault, held back on a sword counter.
Instead, as he grazed past, he lightly touched Hende's shoulder.
It looked utterly ineffective.
But I figured there had to be an effect for him to bother.
Sarang leveraged his superior agility to widen the gap.
Moments later, Hende's movements visibly slowed.
I mused:
'Just a slowdown?'
Only then did Sarang draw his blade.
From a safe range, he channeled mana into it.
His blade simultaneously cloaked in roaring red flames and chilling frost.
He merely slashed lightly at empty air.
Yet each swing birthed wounds exploding across distant Hende's body.
Trailing the sword's path—
the sizzle of flesh searing in fire, the crackle of skin flash-freezing in ice resounded in tandem.
"Kuhk!"
Hende writhed in agony from unseen blows.
His form flickered between scorching blazes and icy sheaths, teetering on the edge of burns and frostbite.
'So strikes on thin air transmit directly.'
This unique ability proved far trickier than anticipated.
Though with their stat disparity, the delivered power seemed heavily diluted.
At last, unable to endure the relentless torment, Hende conceded.
The main tournament's first forfeit.
A total domination.
However.
Impressive unique ability or not, 9th place was no contender for me.
The ensuing fifth match pitted 7th place Monster against 8th place Regeneration.
The slimmest rank gap promised the tightest contest.
Monster struck first at the bell.
[Power Transfer Lv2]
Sword's power and speed increased.
As his arm lifted, a red lightning-clad sword rocketed forth savagely.
Regeneration proved no pushover.
Despite the speed, he slapped the ground, summoning a colossal white rock wall almost instantly before him.
The crimson lightning sword pulverized the white barrier but lost much of its momentum.
Not fully halted, prompting Regeneration to hastily conjure a second from his hand—not the earth. Jet-black rock this time.
Spread thin like a shield enveloping him.
The slender slab looked ready to crumble,
Ting!
Yet it handily repelled Monster's blade, defying expectations.
Regeneration countered without pause.
As if it were now his turn.
Dozens of white stone spikes erupted from the ground, lunging at Monster.
Monster nonchalantly pulverized them to dust the instant they formed with invisible force.
His telekinesis seemed endlessly versatile.
He pressed on, rallying surrounding debris via telekinesis for a sneak attack.
But writhing black rock swaddled Regeneration anew, blocking every fragment.
Faced with this impregnable defense, Monster inwardly assessed:
'Insane durability. His white rock deploys in bulk rapidly; black deploys sparingly but with extreme hardness and fluid shaping. Breaking through would require...'
Meantime, Regeneration swigged stamina and mana potions behind his black rock bulwark.
Monster recalculated:
'He and I both downed stat-boost potions pre-fight.'
Monster stood motionless, invoking a fresh skill.
The lightning sword, zipping across the arena at blistering speed, halted dead in midair.
Monster seized the breather to down his own potions.
Another gesture—
and the stalled sword surged forth anew, brimming with explosive might.
The frozen sword struck Regeneration at speeds incomparable to before.
Even as he reacted—
black rock shattered to pieces, the blade piercing straight through his defenses.
Kwang!!
"Keuk."
Blood erupted from Regeneration's mouth.
Monster pounced to seal the deal, seizing the opening.
He brimmed with close-quarters confidence.
But the instant he closed in on Regeneration—
A colossal blast engulfed the arena.
Dozens of seconds later, Regeneration staggered out of the massive smoke cloud.
The caster emerged unscathed—but utterly drained.
"Why hasn't the match ended...?"
As Regeneration voiced his bewilderment—
smoke gradually dissipated, unveiling Monster at the epicenter.
He sat placidly on the ground, shrouded in a red lightning barrier on the verge of cracking.
Only his eyes peered through, brimming with raw killing intent.
Regeneration bellowed in disbelief.
"You... blocked that?!"
Monster answered not with words, but a glare of icy malice.
On top of that,
mana reinforcement pulsed around Monster's frame.
The red lightning no longer clung to the sword alone—it sheathed his entire body.
At peak potency, Monster charged with blade in hand.
In that split second of their first true clash, victory crystallized.