Chapter 87
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: Semi-Final Showdowns
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Abel had claimed victory multiple times in the underground fighting ring, but naturally, there had been times when he hovered in the lower ranks.
He hadn’t been proficient with Gigants from the very beginning, after all.
That was why, back then, he’d had to resort to every trick in the book to make up for his deficient skills.
Trash talk had been one of those tricks.
-What…… did you say?
-If you’re tired, let’s end this quick. I’m starting to want a break myself.
No reply came this time either, but it was clear the opponent had heard him loud and clear.
Thud-!
The momentum shifted noticeably.
Percival kicked off the ground hard and closed the distance once more.
He showed no signs of fatigue, moving twice as fast as before, though his trajectory was even more straightforward now.
Boom!
‘Not bad.’
Abel blocked the attack while inwardly marveling.
The strikes up until then had fallen short of expectations in various ways, but this was different.
Even with a solid block, the impact felt heavy.
The opponent had likely been holding back as well.
Thud!
Percival, intent on seeing it through, refused to retreat and swung his spear again.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
No matter how many times he blocked, the assaults kept coming relentlessly.
They were so fast that defending left little room for anything else.
But Abel had no intention of just taking it lying down.
He’d provoked the opponent precisely to force a quick resolution.
A fully awakened Percival might have been another story, but the current one was ripe for exploitation.
Abel patiently endured the onslaught until, at one moment, he abruptly stepped forward.
Kwang!
Percival’s spear shaft slammed into his shoulder. It was a solid hit, but not enough to make him drop his sword.
-!
Percival sensed something off and tried to pull back, but the momentum had already swung to Abel.
‘If there’s no opening, make one.’
Abel gripped his sword tightly. As Percival retreated while thrusting his spear, Abel swung fiercely.
The instant Percival’s spear moved to block Abel’s sword.
Whoosh!
The sword’s path suddenly twisted upward.
Kwaaaaaang-!
With a deafening roar, Percival’s machine launched into the air.
Even then, Percival tried to regain his balance, but Abel wasn’t about to let him.
Kwang!
Abel charged forward, grabbing the airborne machine with one hand while thrusting his sword with the other.
Thud!
Moments later, both machines crashed to the ground.
Abel aimed his sword at the opponent’s cockpit.
-……I surrender.
The weary declaration came swiftly.
-Th, that’s it! Abel takes the win! It looked like he was being overwhelmed, but a bold counter flipped the tables in an instant, forcing a surrender!
Doyle shouted exuberantly, declaring Abel’s victory in a stunned voice.
Only then did Abel straighten up and extend a hand to Percival.
-You alright?
-Yeah.
Percival’s excitement had already faded, his tone strangely light.
-Are there lots of monsters like you among the first-years?
Abel grinned at the sudden question.
-As if.
-Hah. Figured as much.
Percival chuckled softly before continuing.
-I lost. No excuses.
-Good fight.
-Yeah. See you next time.
-Probably sooner than you think.
Percival started to respond, but Abel left the arena first.
‘That was close.’
It had looked like an overwhelming victory from a daring move.
But in reality, it wasn’t.
‘Dragging it out any longer could’ve been dangerous.’
Abel had seen it.
The moment he landed the final blow, electricity crackling from Percival’s airborne machine.
‘Who’d have thought he’d try using his secret art in a match like this.’
Percival’s skills were still far from the swift version Abel remembered, save for one exceptional trait.
The secret art passed down in his family.
At this stage, Percival couldn’t fully control it and rarely used it, but he’d just tried.
Letting it happen would have turned the match into something far more perilous, win or lose.
‘Guess I learned to watch my mouth.’
Abel etched the lesson into his mind as he headed to the waiting room.
* * *
-The semifinals are already here! Just one match away from the finals!
-This tournament’s been full of upsets! Right?
-Exactly! In academy tournament history, it’s only happened once before that two first-years made the semifinals!
-And one of them has already clinched a spot in the finals by beating their opponent!
Doyle and the other announcer competed to outshout each other with fervent energy.
Doyle seemed especially hyped, probably due to the previous match.
-Abel! Abel dominated the semifinals with skill beyond expectations, advancing straight to the finals!
Abel let out a hollow laugh at that.
‘Luck was on my side.’
The announcer made it sound like a skill crush, but reality differed.
The opponent was skilled, but exhausted from a grueling prior fight.
That let Abel snag an easy win.
-Now, let’s check out this match!
-It’s the one the crowd’s most hyped for. Oh, there! The dual-sword Jackal enters!
The audience erupted in frenzy at the words.
Jackal had indeed displayed overwhelming prowess in this tournament.
Then, a Gigant appeared from the opposite side.
The announcer pointed and bellowed.
-And from the other side! Iolin! Iolin makes her entrance!
Iolin. She’d reached the semifinals too.
‘Better than expected.’
Both Abel and Iolin.
They’d climbed far higher than anticipated.
‘Third place was the original goal.’
Luck with the brackets had helped, for both.
Of course, without the skill to back it up, luck alone wouldn’t have sufficed.
Abel watched the two face off, arms crossed.
‘This one’ll be tough, though.’
He figured Iolin had good luck in this tournament, but expecting her to beat Jackal was a stretch.
‘That level’s pro rider material.’
For his own finals, Abel aimed not just to win, but to pour everything out for a satisfying end.
That’s why he was watching without resting.
To analyze the opponent more.
-Alright! Match start!
Doyle finally wrapped up his spiel and signaled the beginning.
‘Cautious.’
Even after the signal, neither moved.
They just gripped their weapons, staring intently.
But the vibe was different.
Iolin observed calmly.
Jackal, like a predator eyeing prey, poised to pounce.
Ready to explode at any second.
‘Who’ll move first?’
As the thought crossed his mind.
Swipe-.
Jackal slowly stepped forward.
An unexpectedly prudent advance.
Gripping a sword in each hand, he inched closer to Iolin bit by bit.
‘I figured he’d charge right in.’
He had in prior matches.
Like Percival, blitzing from the start to overwhelm and claim swift victory.
Same pattern.
But now, Jackal was extremely careful.
Some spectators jeered, but he ignored them.
Abel watched Jackal, then noticed something off with Iolin.
‘She’s backing up?’
He’d sparred with her countless times, but rarely saw her retreat.
It even looked like she was yielding momentum.
‘Feels different when you’re not facing them directly.’
You can’t know for sure without being there.
Jackal pressed forward; Iolin backpedaled.
The speed difference narrowed the gap decisively.
Once close enough.
Whoosh!
Surprisingly, Iolin struck first.
She thrust her slender sword; Jackal dodged right.
But it wasn’t mere evasion.
Tap!
Jackal lightly kicked off and swung both swords upward in a soaring arc.
An exquisite trajectory hard to fathom.
Whiiiiiish!
Iolin leaned back, evading by a hair, but Jackal wasn’t done.
Flick! Whiiiiiish!
His dual swords moved with eerie independence, bizarre paths hounding Iolin.
She countered several times amid it, but each was parried.
Then, at one point.
Thud!
Iolin’s machine hit the arena wall.
No more room to retreat.
‘It’s over.’
Her reactions suggested she hadn’t realized her back was to the wall.
Jackal crouched, then unleashed an explosive dual-sword flurry to finish.
Iolin, seeing it, didn’t block or dodge—instead, she thrust forward again.
Kwaaaaaang-!
Collision echoed.
Abel clenched his fist reflexively.
Jackal’s finisher was high-level, even to Abel.
But incredibly, Iolin hadn’t just taken it.
-Amazing!
-Iolin! In the final moment, an astonishingly beautiful strike!
Iolin’s sword had pierced the opponent’s machine, protruding from the other side.
Abel, having seen it clearly, grasped the meaning.
‘It was a feint.’
The retreat, the flustered look—all acting.
To bait the final blow.
But it didn’t mean her win.
-She lost, but what a show!
Jackal’s swords flanked Iolin’s cockpit, while hers had impaled his right shoulder.
Jackal had twisted at the last instant.
-Waaaaaaaaah!
-Jackal! Jackal!
Victory went to Jackal.
The crowd cheered his name based on the result, but Abel smiled at Iolin’s machine.
‘Can’t go down easy myself.’
Seeing that, he couldn’t settle for a half-hearted finals.
Not that he planned to anyway. Abel stood without regret.
Time for real rest before the ultimate clash.
As he turned toward the waiting room.
“Abel?”
An unfamiliar voice called his name.
He turned casually and widened his eyes at the sight.
“Hello. Nice to meet you.”
A woman with striking purple hair and eyes.
“I’m Deborah.”
The tycoon known as Deborah approached him.