SHATTERED REALM: FORGOTTEN ECHOES-Chapter 162: Platinum Gate? He Can’t Win
"Do you require any special conditions?" The keeper asked.
"Once you both agree to any conditions, we can start, and if you have none, let me know.
Eryndor smiled at Aramith. The kid before him looked very fragile.
Knowing who I am, no one would carelessly challenge me. And I don’t sense any strong power from him. The only way he can win is—
"No artifacts or weapons," Eryndor said.
Aramith looked at him calmly. "I don’t need those."
This made Eryndor smile. Still confident, huh?
"Do you need any other requirements?" The keeper asked Aramith.
"Not a requirement," Aramith said. "What gate are you at?" He asked.
"Platinum, " Eryndor replied without hesitation. Gasps could be heard.
"Platinum?"
"That’s insane!"
"He can’t win against Platinum."
Aramith didn’t say anything for a while, which Eryndor mistook for fear.
"You could have resigned, but you didn’t," he said in a tone that sounded like concern.
"I’ll have to hold back for your safety. I might accidentally kill you."
There’s no way this dark-skinned boy can do anything.
"Don’t hold back," Aramith said.
"You’re digging your own grave," Eryndor almost shouted.
Aramith shook his head. "If you hold back, you might die. I’ll hold back and only use Physical strength," Aramith told the keeper.
The keeper agreed to Aramith’s condition on himself.
Eryndor frowned.
This was an insult.
You’re calling me weak? I’ll show you.
After confirming that no other conditions would be added, the Keeper agreed and stepped off stage.
From the audience, Mozrael observed Eryndor’s strength. He wasn’t lying about being platinum, but even at Gold, Mozrael knew she had what it took to defeat him.
How much more Aramith, who was out of her league?
"The match between Therin of Forsaken Peak and Eryndor of Dragon Academy begins..."
Even the air stilled.
"Now!"
"What?!"
Before Erynodor could move, Aramith shot at him like a bullet and punched him so hard, he was thrown several feet away.
No one could believe it.
If not for the fact that Eryndor covered his arms in ice, he was sure to have had some broken bones.
Everyone looked in disbelief.
"How is this possible?"
"I didn’t even see him move!"
Eryndor looked at the referee. He had to have used an artifact to produce that much strength.
That was against the rules.
But the Keeper was in just as much shock as Eryndor. And what’s worse, he confirmed that Aramith wasn’t using any artifacts.
"Referee!" Someone shouted.
Everyone turned to see Rynelle standing before the keeper..
"What is this supposed to mean? Isn’t that—"
"I know how to do my job. Shut up and go back to your place."
But everyone was waiting for him to declare Aramith a fraud.
"Lynnor! You dare to disgrace us even furth—"
Lynnor shushed him and turned to the Keeper.
The keeper sighed.
"What kind of power is that?" he muttered under his breath, before calming himself down to speak.
"No one has broken any conditions that were agreed on before the match," he announced.
"What?" Someone shouted.
"He can’t be that strong, right?"
Eryndor couldn’t believe it. How can he be this fast? Even my master is not that fast without abilities.
Rynelle couldn’t make sense of someone overpowering her brother so easily.
But Sylvia just nodded. She knew Aramith was powerful; she could just tell.
And Lynnor just smirked, looking as smug as one could be.
The rest had varying switches in expressions of despair, shock, and confusion.
Aramith looked at him like he was a child learning to walk. "I warned you not to hold back. You might get killed."
"How dare you!"
He punched the air, shooting an ice dragon at Aramith.
Aramith raised a palm, catching the dragon without any effort.
The ice dragon shattered against Aramith’s palm like fragile glass on stone.
The arena went dead silent.
Eryndor wasn’t staring at the broken technique.
He was staring at Aramith’s uninjured hand.
That...wasn’t possible.
For the first time, the platinum-ranked prodigy felt something coil in his stomach.
Fear.
Aramith dusted frost from his palm like brushing off dust.
"Is that all?" he asked softly.
His voice was soft, yet the words cut deeper than steel.
A ripple tore through the crowd.
"He didn’t even flinch—"
"Eryndor’s a Platinum rank, how—?" 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮
"A newcomer from Forsaken Peak...?"
Eryndor’s jaw tightened, and he glanced at Sylvia’s confident look.
He refused to be looked down on.
Runic light ignited beneath his feet: one circle blue and crystalline, the other molten-red.
Temperature split violently—the left half of the arena frosting over, the right shimmering with heat.
Gasps erupted.
"He’s activating dual attributes?!"
"The Drakemire polarity control!"
"No one his age can handle that!"
Rynelle stepped back in alarm.
Sylvia only folded her arms, unimpressed. She was the secret prodigy in their clan, having better control over her dual attributes than anyone else.
Eryndor exhaled, frost spilling from one half of his body as flames coiled around the other.
"This is your last chance to surrender," he growled, voice layered with heat and chill.
"You won’t survive otherwise."
Aramith seemed unimpressed.
"I told you," he said calmly, "don’t hold back. Your life depends on it."
That pushed Eryndor over the edge.
He slammed both palms forward, unleashing a spiraling torrent of fire and ice that tore the ground apart as it stormed toward Aramith.
Spectators collapsed to their knees from the pressure.
Mozrael’s eyes narrowed. "That blast... would kill a gold rank outright."
Lynnor smirked. "He’s desperate." She turned to Sylvia. "He wants to show his little sister he’s a big guy."
The torrent hit Aramith directly and vanished.
Evaporated.
Like smoke between fingers.
Like a desperately released fart.
Eryndor froze in disbelief.
Aramith stepped through the fading steam, unharmed, brushing a stray spark off his sleeve.
"You rely too much on your attributes," he said."Your foundation is weaker than Sylvia’s."
"You—"
Eryndor roared and charged, dual blades of fire and ice erupting along his arms.
Aramith observed the blades. They’re not as pure as what Sylvia used back then.
He slashed, stabbed, and carved through the air, each blow strong enough to break stone, but Aramith slipped through every attack with minimal movement.
He wasn’t exactly dodging the attacks, only casually repositioning himself like he was avoiding a stranger on a crowded street.
Eryndor’s movements were so fast that some found it impossible to follow, yet Aramith was doing so with ease.
"You—"
slash
"—arrogant—"
stab
"—little—!"
swipe—
Aramith flicked Eryndor’s wrist with two fingers.
CRACK.
Eryndor stumbled back, gasping, clutching his arm in shock.
"He broke his stance with two fingers!"
"What level is he?!!"
"What is Forsaken Peak hiding?!"
Yet they didn’t know Forsaken Peak itself was unaware of this powerhouse.
The Keeper swallowed hard.
And Eryndor snapped.
His dual aura erupted, flames roaring, frost splitting stone.
