Chapter 8
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Securing the Top Spot
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“Huuuugh.”
A hot breath whooshed out from his mouth.
His heart pounded as if it might burst, while an unprecedented surge of power coursed through his entire body.
The subtle constriction that had bound his body vanished, and Tito now felt like an extension of himself.
His Sync Rate skyrocketed like an explosion.
Boom!
He had taken just a single step, yet Abel felt a dizzying thrill.
It was like riding a wild stallion bucking madly beneath him.
Thud!
But with the next step, he had already seized that feral energy, bringing it firmly under his control.
In that instant, his Sync Rate surpassing its limits revealed a whole new world to him.
Whoooosh-!
Luke’s Tito fist hurtled into view.
Normally, he would have twisted his body to dodge, but now there was no need.
Abel simply dipped his frame slightly, then thrust it forward, offering his shoulder to the incoming punch.
Crack!
The solid fist glanced off along the curve of his shoulder.
Caught off guard by the deflection, Luke’s machine lost its balance and staggered wildly.
Abel could clearly read Luke’s panic. And in that same moment, he realized.
The figure before him was no longer a dangerous foe—just defenseless prey.
The instant that dawned on him, Abel snapped his fist upward like a coiled spring.
Kwaang!
The punch slammed straight into the chin.
Gigants weren’t living beings of flesh and blood, but the head remained a weak point all the same.
Seeing Luke unable to recover, Abel pressed the attack even harder.
Bang! Kwaang! Bang!
With every swing, the sturdy frame of Tito crumpled pathetically.
Abel’s own machine took damage to its fist as well, but it hardly mattered.
Right now, what mattered was showing everyone here—clear as day.
That a monster was among them.
Kwaaak!
Abel closed in on his opponent, who could barely keep his footing.
He clamped one hand around the neck and gripped between the legs with the other.
Before Luke could react, he was hoisted skyward.
Every eye in the place locked onto Abel instantly.
Lifting a Tito like a reverse barbell? It demanded attention.
In response to the stares, Abel drove the elevated machine straight into the ground.
Kwaaaaang-!
A military press slam detonated.
The thunderous impact of the heavier-than-Midget Tito crashing down mercilessly was utterly weighty.
Of course, that wasn’t the end.
Kuuung!
Abel didn’t stop there—he leaped high into the air.
The massive bulk soared to an unbelievable height.
Savoring the exhilarating rush of freedom, Abel bent one knee on his Gigant. He spotted the fallen Tito flailing to rise.
His machine plummeted straight toward its head.
Kwa-jijik!
A perfect knee drop landed clean!
That single strike shattered the sturdy Tito’s head into fragments.
Abel’s machine had taken its share of damage too, but he stood back on both feet without a care.
“Crazy…….”
Someone muttered under their breath, capturing the stunned thoughts of everyone who had witnessed it.
An unnatural silence blanketed the arena.
Abel steadied his ragged breathing, then spoke calmly through his Gigant.
-Next.
His machine looked heavily damaged at a glance.
After such a fierce clash, its stamina reserves had to be severely drained.
-No one?
Yet.
No one charged at Abel.
-Then no choice.
With a note of regret, Abel resumed his movements.
If they wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to them.
Those nearby shrank back hesitantly, but Abel barreled forward and smashed a fist down on the nearest Tito.
Kwaang-!
As the explosive boom echoed, not just the examinees but the professors too murmured among themselves.
“That’s him, right? From the Klein Count family.”
“Looks like it……. The Count’s brought herself another monster. And the opponent wasn’t some total scrub either.”
“It’s not just skill with a Gigant—he seems hooked on the fight itself. You see that?”
They showed keen insight from that brief clash.
“The rumor going around lately—think it’s about that kid?”
“That statue? Probably just bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit. Professor Jephiel was right there—says the statue actually moved and flashed with light.”
The rumor that had rocked the academy before fading resurfaced.
On the platform above, the Empire’s giant was fixated on Abel too.
“Hmm.”
Magnus stroked his chin beard.
He knew the legend of the statue wasn’t mere myth. It was essentially a ‘test.’
But he’d never imagined someone would pass it in his lifetime.
Not when even he hadn’t cleared those conditions.
‘An irregular genius.’
The current era differed from the past.
Unlike before, one overwhelming genius could stand in for hundreds or thousands of soldiers.
That was precisely why the academy trained Gigant riders.
Not just to shine in wars against foreign powers, but as the most effective counter to ‘Gigadeus.’
Magnus watched Abel for a long while before shifting his gaze elsewhere.
Abel’s brilliance dazzled so fiercely that it overshadowed the rest—but he wasn’t the only rough gem here.
Magnus’s eyes picked out several more: talents so rare that one per generation would be a boon.
“Interesting.”
“Huh?”
Instead of answering the professor beside him, Magnus just grinned. He took in this promising batch, eager for what came next.
The second test was drawing to a close.
* * *
The arena lay strewn with the wreckage of pulverized Titos everywhere.
No bodies, but it rivaled any battlefield.
Abel wondered how they’d clear it, only for the mages to step in with spells—cleanup finished in seconds.
“That’s him?”
“Yeah, looks like.”
Just then, snippets of conversation around him pierced Abel’s ears.
The second test had ended, granting a brief rest, but Abel couldn’t relax.
‘More pressure than I expected.’
He’d drawn eyes before the test too, but now? The attention pouring in was on another level entirely.
Though he had rampaged extra flashy on purpose to grab it.
Especially from the pilots whose machines he’d wrecked—their glares burned like fire.
Luke’s had to be the hottest among them.
‘Sheesh.’
A classic villain type: rotten personality, sky-high pride.
Not just beaten, but humiliated—so of course he was seething.
‘He’ll kick up a fuss later for sure.’
He’d lost to Abel, but Luke passed the test in the end.
Thanks to the test’s unique pass condition.
‘Machine wrecked or not—as long as you’re standing at the finish.’
Luke had lain there playing dead with his half-wrecked ride, then hauled himself up at the last second.
Impressive stuff.
The tactic itself was sound enough, but prideful Luke resorting to it? That was the shocker.
‘Explains the scorching glare.’
Probably stewing on something like, ‘How dare he humiliate me like this.’
Naturally, Abel felt zero worry over future backlash.
‘Next chance, I’ll test some new moves.’
A dirty fighter made for carefree opponents—music to his ears.
Abel tuned out the stares and focused on recovery.
“Alright! Rested up?”
Fifteen minutes later, the interior was spotless. Magnus’s booming voice signaled the break’s end.
“The fun and games ended with that last one. Real tests start now—heads up, everyone.”
His words sent shivers through the survivors.
Abel, who knew what came next, sighed inwardly.
These tests were worlds apart from the prior ones.
The academy’s exams gauged Sync Rate, mana control, and stamina chiefly.
They’d just tested the must-have Sync Rate. Next up……
“Let’s see how much grit you’ve all got!”
Stamina time.
“Move it! Outside!”
“Run! I said run!”
Professors descended from the platform, barking orders.
Abel, already loosened up, bolted out of the building without pause.
The third test was straightforward.
Run till you drop.
Barbaric? Maybe, but it had solid rationale.
‘Raw stamina counts, sure—but the mental fortitude on display matters more.’
Mental strength rivaled Sync Rate in Gigant piloting.
No matter how high your Sync Rate, a weak mind couldn’t tap it fully.
Like handing a legendary blade to a toddler.
The examinees funneled to the vast training ground right behind the building.
Professors clustered to one side, scrutinizing and jotting notes.
The third test dragged on for hours.
“Hahk, heuk!”
“Keuheuk.”
Ragged gasps erupted everywhere.
Abel wasn’t comfy either. Unlike Sync Rate, his stamina wasn’t god-tier.
“Huu!”
Some shone brighter here, though.
A brown-haired boy especially lapped the field for hours looking fresh.
Human? Or monster in human skin? Tough call.
The sight spurred Abel—he dug deeper, limits crashing over him time and again, but he never folded.
“Enough!”
When the test finally wrapped.
Fewer than fifty-two remained upright on their feet, Abel included.
The early dropouts gawked at them in awe.
The professors’ eyes gleamed.
Rather than flop down, Abel caught his breath and rebuilt his strength.
“Alright! Fourth test—mount up, quick!”
Ten-minute breather.
The fourth test kicked off right away: ride a Tito at speed.
Everyone scrambled aboard.
No foot-running didn’t make it a cakewalk.
Physical drain aside, mental fatigue weighed heavy.
Blunter mental test than the third.
Could they pilot in extremis?
The fourth stretched past thirty minutes.
Grueling like the last, but Abel handled it better.
While others flagged, he ran his machine smooth—even the professor overseers looked stunned.
Down to about twenty at the end, Abel included.
Tests kept rolling.
Each time Magnus bellowed “Next!”, faces clouded over. Later, they wore enlightened grins.
Through it all, Abel dominated most unflaggingly.
Rivals? Three or four at best—the rare-per-generation types Magnus had mentioned.
Even they only edged him in spots.
Abel drew the steadiest spotlight.
“Hmm.”
Amid the collective stares, one burned hottest on him.
Magnus.
Eyes twinkling, he muttered low.
“Top spot’s already locked in.”