Sunlight poured down from the massive skylight above the arena, brightly illuminating the circular ring in the center, which measured about thirty meters in diameter.
The ring was paved with solid slabs of bluish-gray granite, its surface engraved with reinforcement runes and anti-slip patterns. Semi-transparent magic barriers were set around the edges to prevent any shockwaves from the battle from harming the spectators.
Ring 17 was located on the east side of the arena. Although it wasn't the main central ring, the surrounding stands were still packed with nearly ten thousand people.
At this moment, the host stood on a protruding high platform beside the ring, holding a roll of parchment. His voice, booming through amplification runes, echoed throughout the entire arena:
“Next up is the first knockout match for Ring 17! Between contestant Jiang Lin from Saint Brilliance Magic Academy and...”
He looked down at the name on the parchment, his voice rising a few notches:
“...contestant Ragnar from Ironforge Adventurer Academy!”
A round of polite applause and a fair amount of chatter broke out in the stands.
“Ragnar from Ironforge? I heard he’s already at the 3rd-rank peak. Among this year’s contestants, he’s one of the favorites to contend for first place!”
“3rd-rank peak? At that age, wouldn't he just absolutely steamroll every opponent?”
“Then his opponent is too unlucky. Meeting an opponent like that, shouldn't he just forfeit immediately?”
“But this is a knockout round. You get whoever you draw. Luck is part of strength, after all.”
The National Youth Adventurer Competition was a selection process for teenagers aged seventeen and under.
Adventurers in this age group were generally between the 1st and 2nd-rank.
Only in places like the elite class in Clearwater City, where students were severely stimulated by Jiang Lin, was it possible for one or two 3rd-rank students to appear.
Furthermore, the progression of an adventurer's strength usually became more difficult the further they went.
Therefore, the 3rd-rank peak was essentially the limit for this age group.
As for a freak like Jiang Lin, who had already reached the 4th-rank mid-stage, he was naturally outside the realm of common knowledge.
And Jiang Lin was only sixteen this year.
This meant he could even participate in the competition again next year.
Of course, it was impossible to say what rank Jiang Lin would reach by the time he participated next year.
...
Jiang Lin walked up the steps onto the ring.
Sunlight cascaded from the dome, making his face and long golden hair glow slightly.
His expression was as calm as water, as if he weren't here for a knockout match that could determine victory or defeat, but rather for a stroll.
Opposite him, a burly young man with broad shoulders and a thick back also walked up from the steps on the other side.
He wore heavy metal plate armor, with an emblem of an interlocking anvil and warhammer branded in the center of his breastplate.
That was the symbol of the Ironforge Adventurer Academy.
He carried a broad-bladed heavy shield on his back that was nearly as tall as he was, and a one-handed hammer hung at his waist, its head engraved with dwarven-style rune patterns.
Jiang Lin stood at the edge of the ring, his golden eyes calmly assessing his opponent.
Ragnar was also assessing him.
The burly contestant from Ironforge narrowed his eyes, his gaze scanning Jiang Lin’s overly handsome face before falling on his empty hands and waist.
No weapon, no armor, not even a decent pair of combat boots.
“You don’t plan on using a weapon?”
Ragnar’s voice came from beneath the heavy helmet, tinged with a hint of confusion.
Jiang Lin shook his head.
Ragnar’s brow furrowed.
He had participated in three national competitions and had seen all sorts of opponents.
The arrogant, the cautious, those who talked trash before the match, and those who attacked directly without a word.
But this was the first time he had seen someone like this golden-haired youth, who walked onto the ring empty-handed with an expression as calm as if he were wandering through a back garden.
“You’ll regret this.”
Ragnar took the broad-bladed heavy shield from his back. The bottom of the shield slammed onto the granite ring with a dull, heavy thud.
His right hand gripped the one-handed hammer at his waist, the dwarven runes on the hammerhead glowing with a dark red aura in the sunlight.
“Begin!”
The host gave the command.
Ragnar didn't charge immediately. Instead, he held his heavy shield across his body, spread his feet, and lowered his center of gravity, assuming a standard Ironforge defensive stance.
His fighting style was never about winning with speed; it was about playing it safe, establishing an invulnerable position first, and then finding an opportunity for a decisive strike.
This tactic had never failed him in the previous selection matches. Opponents were often forced into reckless mistakes by his thick wall of a shield, revealing their weaknesses.
Jiang Lin watched him and suddenly took a step forward.
But the moment that step landed, Ragnar’s pupils constricted violently.
He felt an indescribable pressure rushing toward him.
Instinctively, he raised his heavy shield a few inches higher, almost covering his entire face, leaving only his eyes to stare intently at the golden figure.
Jiang Lin raised his right hand, pressing his index and middle fingers together.
In the stands, the gazes of nearly ten thousand spectators focused on that finger.
“What is he doing?”
someone asked in confusion.
“I don't know... is he counting down his opponent’s demise with his finger?”
“No way, that’s Ragnar from Ironforge, a 3rd-rank peak defensive warrior. That shield is said to be able to withstand a full-power strike from a 4th-rank magical beast.”
A faint, pale blue light condensed at the tip of Jiang Lin’s finger.
Then, he gave a gentle tap forward.
A streak of pale blue light shot out from his fingertip. It wasn't fast; one could even say it was quite slow.
So slow that the spectators in the stands could clearly see the trajectory of the light blue dot as it streaked through the air.
Ragnar saw it too.
He saw the light, and he saw the direction it was flying—straight for the center of his shield.
At the same time, an unprecedented pressure, like a torrential beast, surged toward him.
He gritted his teeth and poured all the magic essence in his body into the shield.
The defensive runes on the shield's surface lit up layer by layer, turning from dark red to crimson gold, the light growing brighter and thicker.
He had endured countless attacks and had never been afraid of anyone.
Then, the pale blue dot of light landed on his shield.
In the next instant, every defensive rune on the shield’s surface extinguished simultaneously, like candles swept by a gale.
Frost began to form from the center of the heavy shield, the pale blue ice spreading outward at a visible speed, covering the entire shield in an instant.
Immediately after, an irresistible, massive force transmitted from the shield.
It was as if an invisible giant hand had pushed from the other side of the shield, shoving him backward along with it.
Ragnar’s feet plowed two deep furrows into the ring, sending stone chips flying.
He desperately pushed back against the ground, trying to stabilize himself, but that force was too strong—so strong he couldn't even hold out for a single breath.
His back slammed into the semi-transparent magic barrier at the edge of the ring.
The barrier dented inward for a moment, then violently bounced him back out.
Ragnar was sent airborne along with his shield, tumbling twice in the air before crashing heavily onto the soft matting below the ring.
The shield slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a loud clang.
The entire venue fell into a dead silence.
Among the nearly ten thousand spectators, not a single person made a sound.
They stood with mouths agape and eyes wide, looking at the golden-haired youth on the ring who was slowly withdrawing his finger, then at the burly man below the ring who was still trying to crawl up, their minds completely blank.
“What... what just happened?”
someone murmured, the voice sounding exceptionally clear in the silent arena.
No one could answer him.
Because no one had seen clearly what exactly had happened in that instant.
They only saw Jiang Lin raise his finger and point, and then Ragnar flew.
Along with his shield, he just flew.
The host stood on the high platform, holding the parchment. His mouth opened and closed twice before he finally found his voice:
“The... first knockout match for Ring 17, the winner is... contestant Jiang Lin from Saint Brilliance Magic Academy!”
The stands suddenly erupted into a frenzy.
“What?! It’s over just like that?!”
“How did I not see anything?! Who saw that move just now?!”
“Wait, Ragnar is a 3rd-rank peak defensive warrior! That shield is supposedly able to withstand a full-power strike from a 4th-rank magical beast!”
“What’s the deal with that golden-haired kid? How much strength did he just use?”
“Who are you asking? I didn't even see how he attacked!”
Discussion rose like a tide, coming from every corner of the arena and converging into a buzzing wave of sound.
There was shock, confusion, excitement, and even those who burst out laughing simply because the scene was too absurd.
“Oh my god! I bet five silver coins that Ragnar’s opponent would last a minute!”
“Who would’ve thought that Ragnar wouldn't even last a single exchange!”
“You still have the mind to worry about money? Did you see how he won?”
“I didn't see it, but I’m deeply shaken.”
High in the stands, Big Guy leaned against the stone railing with his arms crossed, a grin spreading from ear to ear.
He glanced sideways at Aria beside him and found the alchemy genius standing with her mouth slightly open, her silver-gray goggles pushed up on her forehead, looking as if she had been turned to stone.
“Stunned?”
Big Guy nudged her with his elbow.
Aria snapped out of it, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled:
“I... I didn't see anything just now. What about you?”
“I didn't see anything either,”
Big Guy said with a grin.
“Then why are you grinning like an idiot?”
“Don’t you think it’s interesting to know such a genius and witness his growth and transformation?”
On the other side of the stands, the three elves' reactions were much more composed.
After all, they had seen Jiang Lin single-handedly pressure a puppet whose strength approached the 6th-rank when he was only at the 4th-rank early stage.
Now that Jiang Lin was at the 4th-rank mid-stage, he was surely even stronger than before.
Below the ring, Ragnar finally managed to crawl up from the soft matting.
He looked down at the heavy shield in his hand, now covered in frost and with its runes extinguished, then looked up at the back of the figure walking toward the contestant passage. His lips moved, but in the end, he only let out a long sigh.
“Monster,”
he cursed under his breath, then turned and carried his shield toward the exit on the other side.
His steps were steady, but his back looked somewhat lonely no matter how one viewed it.
By that afternoon, the first round of knockout matches for the national competition had all concluded.
Jiang Lin’s name hadn't spread to a wider audience yet, but the rumor of that single finger on Ring 17 had already begun to circulate quietly among the contestants.
“Have you heard? That contestant from Saint Brilliance on Ring 17 used just one finger to blast Ragnar from Ironforge off the stage.”
“One finger? Are you joking?”
“For real, I was in the stands at the time. That guy didn't even bring a weapon; he just raised his finger and pointed, and Ragnar flew.”
“Ragnar? That 3rd-rank peak Ragnar from Ironforge?”
“That’s the one. He flew off, shield and all.”
“...Are you sure he didn't cheat?”
“Why don’t you try cheating in front of that many people and see how it goes?”
Similar conversations played out repeatedly in the contestant rest areas, the stands, and even at the roast meat stalls outside the arena.
As for the person in question, Jiang Lin was currently sitting in his room on the second floor of the Silver Crown hotel, looking over tomorrow’s match schedule.
His opponent for the second round of knockout matches had been determined.
A second-year student from the Royal Academy, 2nd-rank peak, specializing in wind magic.
He took a couple of glances before closing the schedule and continuing his cultivation.
The next morning, Ring 17.
When Jiang Lin stepped onto the ring for the second time, the number of spectators in the stands was nearly double that of yesterday.
News traveled fast; at least within the vicinity of this arena, many had heard of "the golden-haired youth who blasted someone off the stage with one finger."
Among them were those who just came for the spectacle, the curious, the unconvinced, and scouts from various major factions, pens and paper in hand, ready to record.
Jiang Lin’s opponent was a tall, thin youth wearing the deep blue uniform of the Royal Academy, holding a staff inlaid with a green magic crystal.
His face was somewhat pale, and the knuckles of the hand gripping the staff were slightly white; he had clearly heard the rumors of yesterday’s battle.
“B-begin!”
As soon as the host finished speaking, the thin youth immediately raised his staff. A ball of green wind-attribute magic essence rapidly condensed at the tip, transforming into a sharp wind blade that shot toward Jiang Lin.
At the same time, he began to move at high speed, trying to maintain distance and wear down his opponent through hit-and-run tactics.
Jiang Lin stood in place and tilted his head.
The wind blade brushed past his ear, shearing off a few strands of golden hair.
He lifted his foot and took a step forward.
That was the step.
The thin youth only felt a blur before his eyes, and that golden figure was already standing in front of him, so close he could almost see the curve of his eyelashes.
His heart constricted violently, and he instinctively wanted to retreat, but before his body could react, a hand was already pressed against his shoulder.
That hand didn't use much force; it was just a gentle push.
The thin youth’s body flew backward uncontrollably, crossing half the ring and slamming into the magic barrier at the edge before being bounced out of the arena.
He lay on the soft matting, his staff still gripped tightly in his hand, the green light at its tip not having had the chance to fully condense.
The stands erupted into a frenzy once again.
“Another insta-kill?!”
“This time was even more absurd! At least he raised a finger yesterday; today he didn't even raise a hand! No, wait, he did—he put his hand on the guy’s shoulder!”
“Does that even count as an attack? Wasn't that just a push?!”
“That contestant from the Royal Academy was a 2nd-rank peak, right? A 2nd-rank peak couldn't even last a single move against him?”
“It’s not that he couldn't last a move; he couldn't even last a single step. Didn't you see? He just took one step, and then he won.”
...
Rate on N.U.
