Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 91
Chapter Title: Flag Battle
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Flag Battle.
A fight to decide the final survivor who would claim the flag.
Jin appreciated how it was purely an individual contest.
Only one person survives.
Everyone else is the enemy.
How straightforward were the rules?
Capturing the symbolic flag reminded him of the Money in the Bank matches from WWE he'd enjoyed as a kid.
Hmm. Money in the Bank means Edge.
Edge means Spear.
Spear is a lance.
Lance arts belong to the Gerstein family.
The Gerstein family's representative is Carlos Gerstein.
Invoking the tune of that nursery rhyme about a monkey's red butt, Jin employed a mnemonic association trick.
These days, he encountered so many unfamiliar names that he had to use tricks like this just to commit them to memory.
Anyway, lance arts: Gerstein. Lance arts: Gerstein.
Muttering his mantra, Jin scanned his surroundings.
Competitors had already filled the area, eyeing each other warily while keeping a safe distance.
There was a baseline tension in the air, but the atmosphere was far better than Group 1's.
It was only natural.
Though the spotlight was dimmer, they'd avoided becoming mere stepping stones for the Cerebellum King.
Do well enough, and they might even advance to the main tournament.
Amid that budding anticipation, the horn signaling the start finally blared.
Bwooo—!
"Die!"
A sharp cry pierced Jin's ears.
It came from behind. An ambush attempt, but the idiot had yelled first. It was so absurd he almost laughed.
This was why they got weeded out early. What kind of guts made them enter in the first place?
Whoosh!
Jin spun around.
Casually raising his forearm overhead, a heavy leg soon slammed down atop it.
Reinforcement magic, maybe? Rippling blue mana cloaked the surface. His arm didn't budge an inch, though.
"Huh?!"
The attacker's eyes bulged—he clearly hadn't expected it to be blocked.
Jin swept his horizontal arm upward.
The leg recoiled from the momentum, toppling the foe's balance.
Without hesitation, Jin drove his front kick into the opening.
Thwack!!
The man flew back like he'd been hit by a truck. Jin immediately ducked his head.
Swoosh!
A mana-clad practice sword grazed his crown.
"Damn!' came the frustrated curse.
He thought it had just barely missed? Wrong.
Jin had only moved as much as needed. The fool didn't get it.
A concise dodge led straight into a counter. His leg arced in a semicircle, clipping the opponent's ankle. Confirming the guy face-planting with a sidelong glance, Jin straightened up.
Two men now stood directly ahead.
"Take that one first."
"Got it."
They'd been brawling moments ago, but a sudden common enemy aligned their interests perfectly.
They exchanged a quick glance and split left and right to charge.
Crack!
The right guy's jaw snapped upward.
Momentum carried him skidding across the ground. The one approaching from the left faltered, slowing down—then took a solid fist to the lower gut, right at the liver.
"Gaaack—!"
As he crumpled forward, the last thing he saw was a shoe sole blotting out the world—
Bam!!!
Jin shrugged after kicking the face to finish him.
The smooth takedown of four foes brought the surrounding fights to a momentary lull.
The sprawled bodies said it all.
The real deal had arrived.
While everyone sized each other up,
"Not coming at me? You gonna embarrass the Purists?"
Jin spoke with a hand on his hip, his tone brimming with certainty that they'd swarm him. That nonchalance only provoked them further.
They felt insulted right to their faces.
"You cocky bastard!"
"You asked for it!"
"You'll regret this."
The competitors advanced with twisted expressions.
Jin grinned.
"That's more like it."
Purple lightning surged simultaneously.
Crackle, snap—!!
The discharging electricity rampaged, its vivid tendrils not only enveloping his body but extending outward to dominate the area.
"Z-Zahard?!"
As eyes widened in shock at the overwhelming spatial control—
Crunch, the ground shattered beneath Jin's feet—
His follow-up movement resembled a bolt striking the earth.
Kaboom!!!
With the thunderclap, someone's body launched into the air.
The guy dead ahead. He spun like a triple axel before flying out of bounds—no one could track it properly.
Before eyes could shift, savage thunder roared again.
Rumble!!!
Casualties piled up in the flashing arena.
80% crumpled without reacting.
10% got blasted back by sheer force.
10% panicked and backpedaled, realizing something was wrong.
Not every onlooker fared that way, though—
"Don't underestimate me!"
"Block it!"
Those cloaked in dense mana charged in.
Reinforcing body and weapon, firing projectiles, chanting spells.
Jin didn't evade.
In that split second, he gauged distances and moved precisely.
Clang!
He smacked away a sword aimed at his chest with his forearm, then tilted his head to dodge a spell projectile targeting his skull. He hammered the chests of the two unbalanced foes, then gripped the haft of an axe swinging down from behind—before it gained speed.
Snap!
Jin crushed the handle with monstrous grip strength.
At that moment, Purists surged from all directions.
Standing firm, Jin spun his light polearm with full force.
———!!
The next instant, a hemispheric burst of lightning erupted from him, sweeping the surroundings.
Those holding out till the end began collapsing stiffly one by one. The fading lightning trailed pale smoke into the air and vanished.
"……"
"……"
The arena had gone silent long ago.
Spectators watching,
Participants warming up for their turns,
Even the Purists from Group 1 whose fights hadn't ended—they all froze mid-motion and turned their heads.
At the center of every gaze, Jin dusted off his hands.
"Not bad at all."
Mechanically advancing through stages skipped the agonies of enlightenment, so its depth might lag behind other Rank 2s. But the output? Unrivaled among peers.
His mana circuit, steadily illuminating the star thus far, had reached level 5.
Infused with pure blood without waste, the circuit was now as robust as an ancient tree's roots.
If his gamer little brother were here, he'd probably be standing in applause.
Thrilled to see his brother treading the classic Irregular king path, despite no coaching.
Of course, Jin had zero interest in such game tropes.
He just swept his gaze over the devastated field and strode confidently to the arena's center, toward the fluttering flag.
Grab. He seized the pole and bellowed from his bulging gut—!
"Victory is mine!!!"
"Uh, wh-what?"
Laf had suddenly lost his command of language in the blink of an eye.
Only fragmented onomatopoeia dribbled from his gaping mouth.
Translating that:
'You were Zahard branch family? Esquire? No, Esquires can't participate. Th-then what are you?'
Something along those lines.
Of course, none of it reached Jin.
"Tch, first real workout in ages. I'm beat. They sell chicken here or what?"
His search for food played solo on the jumbotron.
The crowd went wild.
"Who the hell is he? Families can't have two reps!"
"Maybe an unlisted branch member?"
"Found him! Jin Evernight. Solo. Level 4."
"Level's lower than expected? That performance just now...!"
"He must've been hiding his strength!"
"Whatever, fuck yeah! That was badass! I'm rooting for you, man!"
Debates and cheers crisscrossed everywhere—
Everyone united in welcoming Jin's debut.
It was only natural.
How long had it been since a non-family rep made such a splash?
Everyone figured it'd devolve into family rivalries again this year. Then a dark horse burst in.
And he declared himself a title contender.
The stale show just got juicy.
How could they not cheer?
Rooooar!!!
The prelims had been electric from the start—
One man swallowed hard alone.
"……"
Veins bulged on Kendrick's forehead as he crossed his arms.
Naturally, he'd claimed his flag too.
The issue? A tad slower than Jin.
By the time he grabbed his pole late, all eyes were on that damn colt.
Right now, the arena's roars sounded different in Kendrick's ears.
Cerebellum King advancing? Duh.
Left the praise to me?
Jealous? Grab the flag first next time~
His gut twisted, nearly shattering his composure. Patience, patience, patience. He patched the hairline cracks in his poker face and thought inwardly.
Fine. I'll crush him in the mains.
Actually, better this way.
Ignoring him would've felt off.
Yeah, a coronation without drama's boring.
As Kendrick steeled himself, "Whoa. So many people. Packed." Jin returned to his seat, hands full of snacks. Everyone he'd passed mobbed him.
Snapping pics left and right,
Faking autographs on the fly
(Which ended up all different),
Thanks to that, he finally got Elina's plight a bit. Meanwhile, Groups 3 and 4 prepped on the field, so Jin's face brightened naturally. Now he could just relax and watch the rest.
"This'll be fun."
And it was. Every match he watched while munching popcorn was a blast. Being human, though, his eyes naturally lingered on the family reps. Group 4: Katrina Margie. True to her Dark Ice moniker, she chilled a wide area to hamper mobility, then casually nudged the frozen foes out of bounds to snag the flag! Group 5: Eanna Solad. Unleashed white flames at the start, erecting a firewall at the edges. Then blazed through the trapped contestants in a fiery showdown to claim the flag! The crowd showered praise on the two women advancing with such contrasting styles. Predictably, pointless debates erupted: Which one's my type? Who's prettier?
Ice queen your ideal? Katrina.
Prefer natural vibes? Eanna.
Honestly, what was the point?
But that banter was part of the fun.
As the hype built, Groups 7 and 8 followed. The highlight. Two title contenders at once.
Group 7: Ryukard Anarion.
Group 8: Carlos Gerstein.
One, an unparalleled swordsman (eyes closed, statue-still).
The other, a spear ghost (yawning nonstop).
Jin's eyes darted left and right.
How do you match up like that?
The resonant horn blew simultaneously. Ryukard, silver hair to his waist, opened his eyes. Click. His right thumb nudged the blade up from the sheath; his left hand on the hilt traced a gentle arc. The next moment— A fan-shaped wave softly swept every contestant. And that was it.
"Cough!"
They collapsed like dominoes, almost comically synchronized. But those with eyes for it were awestruck. Jin included. Whoa, mana repulsion? Realizing he'd infused his mana into their circuits to overload them, Jin clapped vigorously. Perfectly calibrated not to injure. Chilling precision drew involuntary admiration.
But just for a moment.
Oh crap, Group 8!
Lightning flashed in his mind; he whipped his head around—too late.
Carlos had already cleared everyone, yawning lazily as he grabbed the pole. Damn, missed it. Sighs of "Aww" echoed from the crowd—many shared Jin's regret.
What could you do?
Replay later.
The two frontrunners exited side by side.
Time for a breather now.
No family reps until Group 13's Deir Hakan. So Jin focused on his meal in peace. "Want some?" "...Nah. Think I'll hurl." Laf (Group 11) paled as his turn neared, but that's all. Meanwhile, Groups 9 and 10 headed to the field. Jin looked up, chewing chicken steadily. He observed the entrants impartially for a while.
Then his head tilted quizzically.
Did I see that wrong?
Rubbing his eyes hopefully and checking again—nope.
Why the hell's she here?
At the end of his puzzled stare: a familiar face.
Black waterfall-straight hair.
Obsidian eyes, plump rosebud lips.
The loose-screw woman from the rest stop diner looked exactly like that.
He naturally set down his chicken.
That's when her eyes met his.
And she smiled brightly.