Chapter 249
Chapter 249
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 249
Chapter Title: Psalms of Victory
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The starting signal rang out, but neither fighter moved right away.
As Luca unfurled his ritual with the imperial wand in hand, whispers and chuckles rose from the lower stands where the French were sitting.
[Whoa. That's the Hohenzollern eagle on the end of the wand.]
[Yeah... new humans and old humans alike, you're witnessing the ultimate irony of our era right now.]
[The Hohenzollerns have truly lost their minds. Promoting a Pleroma...]
They must have thought they were speaking softly, but thanks to the tension channeling mana into his senses, Luca could hear even better than usual.
The whistles from the crowd grated on his nerves. The applause and cheers mixed with laughter that swelled the moment Luca appeared showed no sign of dying down. Even though they knew he hadn't done anything wrong, to them, he was nothing more than entertainment—a Pleroma.
There was even a subtle undercurrent of arrogance and anticipation in the smirks and whistles from these 150,000 spectators. The key was that this Pleroma lacked aggression. The moment any flaw appeared, they were ready to trample his honor and pride into the dirt. They probably believed it was a form of justice. It was such a crude, laughable way to rationalize their psychology that they themselves might not even fully grasp their own feelings. But the one standing in the arena would feel that irrational malice crashing over him like a wave.
"Who's the opponent?"
At Elias's question, Yulia pointed to the massive screen on one side of the arena.
Introductions for Luca and the French contestant scrolled across it. Elias frowned as he read.
'Academy Pruisance University Division Runner-Up...? University?'
Not just any school, but runner-up in the university division of the academy handpicked by the French imperial family. He'd competed in so many events—mostly athletic competitions rather than magic matches—that his list of awards seemed endless.
Age didn't guarantee skill, but the symbolism was a problem. Why match a high schooler against a university student—and the second-best in his division, no less? Everyone was approaching this assuming Luca would lose. Otherwise, they couldn't sit here so smugly.
'They could have at least matched the mages by age.'
The Empire must have insisted on putting Luca here. Tossing a notoriously controversial figure into the Colosseum was bound to spice things up.
They could have pitted him against that Gramont or whoever from the French high school division.
But why hadn't they?
'...They don't care if Luca wins or loses.'
The government was too busy hunting for terrorism solutions to pay any attention to the tournament. That's how this mismatch happened.
All he had to do was draw eyes. That's why Luca was standing there.
Elias clicked his tongue, imagining punching every whistling, shouting mouth in the upper and lower stands.
The sentiment didn't last long. The opposing contestant, emerging just a bit later than Luca, unfurled his own ritual. And he made it clear he wouldn't yield an inch.
Boom!
Luca snapped his wand forward against the reckless incoming attack. It was a swift motion, light on power but with plenty of room to spare.
A faint red barrier bloomed at the tip of his wand. He lightly gripped it with the fingers of his right hand, supporting the end with his left palm spread wide, gradually pulling the barrier toward his chest. His thin hair fluttered back from the impact of the opponent's strike.
Luca smiled faintly and tilted his head. Then, in one fluid motion, he stepped forward two paces with his left foot—which he'd shifted back—and thrust the pulled barrier ahead.
Kwaaang—!!
Luca's barrier repelled the oncoming attack and hurled it straight back at the opposing mage. At the same time, his eyebrows shot up. His gaze dropped to the floor, not the opponent. That wasn't the reaction of someone who'd properly blocked it.
[Whoa!]
[What the?!]
The crowd cried out almost in unison.
They had no choice. Green mana—the same hue as the opponent's eyes—seeped into the arena floor like veins, spreading rapidly. Specifically, toward where Luca stood. It was like horizontal lightning if such a thing existed.
The French contestant hadn't come to Pentaron as an athlete, but he had a solid track record in track and field. And here was the reason. His mana control between body and ground was as natural as breathing.
Luca dodged the dozens of mana tendrils snaking toward him across the floor, rolling and leaping wildly. The contestant's mana pursued him relentlessly, even sparking like electricity across the surface.
'At least he can't do area-wide casts yet.'
He could have blanketed the entire stage floor with magic, but instead, he was chasing Luca's path. Either his mana reserves weren't as vast as Luca's, or he wasn't used to wide-area spells, or he figured focused attacks were better...
[He's just running around like a maniac.]
[He can't fly, after all.]
[Running's the right call for now.]
[France, go!]
For once, Elias agreed with the French in the lower stands. Minus the last bit.
Luca was indeed evading like a madman. He planted hands and feet only where mana hadn't reached, landing in clean spots, then bounding to new ones.
[But why's he dodging so well? Like a rat...]
[I dunno. Come on, France!]
[Cut off his escape! Hurry!]
The French bellowed.
Seeing them yell without a care, Elias finally realized he was near the French spectator section.
Luca's elusiveness was ramping up the tension around here. They were clearly on edge, fearing their guy might get pushed back. Meanwhile, cheers for their compatriot—Pleroma be damned—echoed from some German sections.
'Leo made this possible, huh...'
If there was one pitiful thing about the French contestant, it was that Luca was already a master at dodging vines.
Elias had never seen Luca in action, but knowing how he'd evolved to evade Leo's attacks—and what Luca must have developed training alongside Leo—it was obvious.
Though Leo would catch his target no matter what...
Secondly, unlike vines that could lash out in all directions, the contestant's attacks were confined to a single plane.
In other words...
Luca, hand on the floor, stepped into the air. A red barrier instantly formed beneath his foot. He pushed off, layering more barriers to step on as he charged the contestant. Each one shattered in midair after he passed.
[What the...?!]
[Why's he flying?!]
'Flying, my ass.'
But it was fast enough to fool them, and Elias couldn't help chuckling in disbelief at what he was seeing. Leo had transformed someone who could barely do anything half a year ago into this.
"...!"
The contestant's eyes widened. Luca pointed his wand and unfurled a barrier. Then, mid-flight, he plummeted toward him.
An explosion and flash erupted simultaneously. The contestant's green mana, reflected by Luca's barrier, engulfed him entirely. A scream rang out, followed by...
Kwaang—!
Luca pinned the contestant to the ground, gripping his throat, and let out a light breath.
"Aaagh! Gah...!"
No matter how the contestant thrashed, Luca's hold didn't budge. Green mana sprayed wildly from the contestant's hand clutching Luca's wrist. Their mics picked up every gruesome detail. It sounded like something burning alive nearby, twisting spectators' faces. Yet cheers erupted as the momentum shifted. The French sections were mostly furious shouts.
[Waaaaaaah—!]
[Aaagh!]
[Get up!]
[Get up and attack, damn it!]
But Luca didn't flinch, just stared down at him. Pink mana swirled around his hand, squeezing the contestant's throat tight. Mana orbs capturing the two zipped through the air from all sides. The crowd's roar swelled.
"10."
Good.
The referee's countdown—broadcast from who-knows-where—echoed through.
If he didn't rise in 10 seconds, victory was Luca's.
Elias glanced at the screen, checking for any code signals, and swallowed hard.
"9!"
"8!"
"7!"
The audience began chanting along with the referee.
The French contestant's neck and face flushed purple. Cheers and groans deafening the nearby seats poured out.
Then, a massive voice burst forth, squeezing out every ounce of strength.
[...Your God has commanded your strength! O God, confirm for us what you have wrought!]
Kwaaang—!
The sudden blaze of light made spectators squint.
In the blink of an eye, the contestant rose gasping, back in guard stance. Meanwhile, Luca—arms shielding his face—had retreated to the far edge of the vast stage.
He must have figured taking the desperate counter head-on would end him. Smart choice, since it would. He glanced down at the stage depths—deeper than a man's height—then forward again.
With full-body mana control restored, the contestant regained his momentum like nothing happened. He wasn't with their imperial family for nothing. Mana flowed from his body. Roaring like thunder from the throat, he stomped.
[O my God, make them like a wheel, like chaff before the wind!]
Pang—
It sounded like silk ripping against the air, and green mana—like glowing foliage—stretched long above and below, at the height of the third floor of Elias's building. It appeared across the arena. Not launched upward or spilled, it simply 'manifested' out of nowhere.
[Whoa.]
[Damn...]
Admiration rippled through the crowd. Elias might have joined if the guy weren't the enemy. Blending mana into the air up to that height and shaping it on cue—that was impressive.
As the contestant chanted and stomped, his mana appeared in the distant air opposite the stage.
[As fire that burns the forest, flames that scorch the mountains, pursue them with your tempest and terrify them with your storm!]
[Waaaaaaah—!]
[Great job!]
Cheers and applause erupted everywhere. Most here hailed from Christian cultural spheres, after all.
Why this sudden shift? As felt at first, it was pure hostility. To these 150,000 spectators, the 'them' in his chant—"pursue them with your tempest and terrify them with your storm"—meant Luca, and beyond him, the Pleroma.
Luca raised an eyebrow and smiled at the words. No more surprise now.
The magic the contestant had densely filled from ground to sky now bore down on Luca all at once.
Luca's wand elongated into a staff between his fingers. The obnoxious black eagle-head wand caught the eye. Holding the Hohenzollern wand soured the mood.
Luca took a deep breath and slowly opened his mouth.
[Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress.]
Staring up at the plunging green mana, Luca gripped the staff two-handed and swung it diagonally downward.
Kwoong—Kwaaaaang——....
[He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.]
Elias winced. The air rippled like water disturbed by a stone, and his ears went deaf. Sound vanished as if his hearing had shut down. The green mana plummeting toward Luca wavered, halted, then shattered.
The opponent didn't panic at losing control of his mana. He thrust his wand and shouted.
[Lord! Fill their faces with shame, that they may seek your name!]
Kwachik—Bang—! Kwagwang—!
Wood-crack—
Cracks spiderwebbed the stage floor, mana surging from below like before. No doubt about it—this guy excelled at infusing mana between substances to deny openings.
'That "them" again?'
Give it a rest. He was deliberately picking chants with "them." The crowd, overwhelmed by the spectacle and scale, just enjoyed the show like idiots.
The contestant's mana sliced air and ground like blades, pursuing wherever Luca leaped, slipping past any counters. It felt like half a dozen rituals layered; sustaining that took serious power.
"Impressive."
Yulia murmured beside him.
Heike tracked their every move with shining eyes, determined not to miss a second. Ulrike muttered curses, rubbing her hands nonstop—clearly rooting for Luca's win.
Elias mimicked her, fixing his gaze on the Frenchman. The screen zoomed on the contestant's solemn face. Luca flicked his wand to bat away incoming attacks, wiped sweat, and kept moving. The contestant, locked on Luca, suddenly whipped his wand skyward.
[May they be ashamed and dismayed forever; may they perish in disgrace, that all may know you alone, whose name is the Lord, are the Most High over all the earth!]
"How long...?"
Luca must have caught the digs. He muttered, tilting his head with a grin.
Then he stopped dead and spun around. The pursuing mana—amped by the prior chant—intensified, drawing gasps from the stands.
[Gasp...!]
Kwaaang!!
Luca's staff slammed the floor. The contestant's oncoming mana was devoured by red. Sparks crackled loudly, filling the arena. Luca infused mana into the staff and murmured low.
[Why do you see the speck in your brother's eye, but fail to notice the beam in your own? Hypocrite, first remove the beam from your own eye.]
"This is..."
Elias and Yulia's eyes met.
This wasn't duel magic. Sure enough, a playful glint lit Luca's face.
"Hahaha!"
Elias threw his head back, laughing as the meaning sank in.
Simple. Luca had brute-forced through without fancy formulas, flipping the bird at the opponent.
Yulia beside him stifled a chuckle.
Meanwhile, impacts from their traded blows echoed on.
[Man... their mana pools are insane.]
Crowd chatter thinned. Rightly so—they were hooked on the outcome now.
Luca, who seemed doomed at first, had briefly seized momentum, muddying predictions.
[For many days we saw neither sun nor stars, the storm raged on, and all hope of rescue was gone!]
As the contestant's chant began anew, Luca shook his head and spoke without waiting.
[Because sentence against an evil deed is not executed speedily, the hearts of men are emboldened to do evil. But know this: the Lord Almighty will punish them with thunder and earthquake, great noise, whirlwind and storm, and raging fire....]
The stands buzzed louder at Luca's chant. They got the taunt—laughter mixed with surprise.
Elias's eyes widened for a different reason.
'Chanting two in a row aside...'
[...!]
[This...!]
Nearby spectators looked up with wide eyes, holding their breath.
The once-white arena lights now glowed red. Visibility held, but the air was crimson.
It felt like standing in a sea of fire. If the apocalypse came to this era, it'd look like this.
[What is this?!]
[Did the contestant do that?!]
"......"
Luca's mana. His mana had turned this place red. Elias knew Luca's reserves were no joke. But this surpassed imagination.
[Those who attack Ariel, Ariel and her defenses, all who distress her, shall be like a dream, a vision of the night!]
Peong—Kwaang!!
"...!"
Flames erupted amid the suddenly crimson air. Long, astonished groans rose from the seats. But the real shock followed.
[What?!]
[Wait, what happened?!]
"......"
The massive blaze filling the stage swallowed the wide-eyed contestant in an instant. A sucking sound accompanied his vanishing.
No—precisely, he was trapped in the fire. His clothes flickered through the red mana. Luca aimed his staff at the spot.
At once, something tore, and the contestant's mana cleared from the air.
"......"
Yulia touched her lips, watching Luca. His mouth quirked up.
As the airborne red mana settled, Luca turned to the massive flames he'd conjured. Odd pops suggested the contestant still thrashed inside.
"10."
The referee's countdown restarted.
Luca knelt before the fire. The towering flames now cloaked and crushed the contestant. His form was visible to the audience.
"9."
"Aaaaaaagh!"
[But to you who hear, I say:]
Luca pressed a hand to the man's forehead and spoke.
"8."
"Let go!"
[Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you....]
"5."
Luca looked up, scanning the stands.
"4."
He smiled, pressing two fingers to his lips.
"3."
Then, like an old priest, he lightly tapped the contestant's forehead.
[Pray for those who mistreat you.]
"...!"
Luca grinned mysteriously and snapped his fingers, releasing all the binding mana. Elias let out a hollow laugh.
'...Luca's personality shining through...'
The bloodshot-eyed contestant tried to lurch up.
But it was too late.
Elias mouthed softly.
'1.'
Beeeep—
A piercing tone blared across the arena.
[The match is concluded.]
[The finalist is Lucas Ascanien of the German Empire.]