The Extra's Rise-Chapter 167: Sovereign’s Tournament (3)

The crowd roared as Ren Kagu and Cecilia Slatemark stepped onto the grand stage.

From the VVIP box, Valerie leaned forward, watching intently. "This will be interesting," she murmured.

"Interesting? This is going to be one-sided," Leon scoffed, swirling his glass. "Ren’s a White-ranker. Cecilia’s still high Silver. No matter how talented she is, the gap in mana density alone makes this unwinnable."

Li Zenith smirked. "Perhaps, but never underestimate a witch."

Down in the arena, Ren Kagu cracked his knuckles, his posture relaxed. His violet eyes gleamed with power, his God’s Eyes seeing everything—every twitch of Cecilia’s fingers, every fluctuation of her mana, every micro-movement that betrayed her intent.

Cecilia, in contrast, had a smirk on her face, the Crimson Crown of her Witchcraft Gift glowing faintly atop her golden head. The moment she stepped into the arena, her presence changed. The air crackled around her, thick with mana, as four intricate magic circles spun rapidly behind her.

Four-circle magic. Four spells. All active. All controlled.

Most mages could barely juggle two spells in a battle.

Cecilia could orchestrate four.

Ren tilted his head. "You’re confident."

Cecilia’s smirk widened. "You’re cocky."

"Because I’ve already won."

"You haven’t won yet," Cecilia countered.

"Yes, I have," Ren replied simply, lowering his stance.

Ren vanished.

Cecilia’s eyes barely registered the movement. One moment, he was standing before her. The next, he was simply gone—a blur moving beyond normal perception.

Ren’s foot slammed into the ground just beside her, and the entire arena shuddered as his Collapsing Step activated.

The space around them compressed violently, a miniature gravitational implosion forming at the point of impact. The ground beneath him fractured, and the very air felt like it was being pulled into itself.

Cecilia didn’t have time to think—her instincts screamed at her, and she leapt backward, her magic circles spinning rapidly in response.

Four spells. Four elements. Four paths of survival.

A wall of scarlet fire erupted in front of her, meeting Ren’s attack head-on. But it didn’t even slow him down.

He didn’t stop moving.

Ren twisted his body mid-air, using the force of his own step to launch himself forward. His fist came blazing toward Cecilia’s skull.

Her wind barrier erupted just in time.

BOOM.

The air detonated, sending shockwaves outward. The protective barrier held, barely, cracks running through its structure.

Cecilia was already moving. She flicked her wrist, and her next spell—lightning magic—formed instantly. Bolts of raw electricity snapped toward Ren in rapid succession, guided with unnatural precision.

Ren sidestepped, moving through the attacks as if they were slow motion. His God’s Eyes made dodging magic child’s play.

"You’re fast," Cecilia admitted.

Ren smirked. "You’re slow."

His fist blurred.

BOOM.

The gravity-altered punch smashed into her spell circle. It should have shattered.

It didn’t.

Instead, Cecilia redirected the force, her Crimson Crown glowing brighter as she twisted the very mechanics of the magic itself. The sheer impact was absorbed, dispersed into the very fabric of her spells.

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Clever."

Cecilia grinned.

"That’s not all," she whispered.

A spell exploded behind Ren.

A delayed detonation.

It sent a wave of force toward him, an instant counterattack set in motion the moment he made his first move.

Ren twisted mid-air, rotating his entire body with inhuman precision. Gravity magic bent around him, negating the force of the explosion in an instant.

And then he was gone again.

Cecilia’s heart pounded.

A shadow loomed above her.

She looked up.

Ren was already descending.

His fist was no longer covered in simple gravity magic.

No. This was something else.

Event Horizon.

The very fabric of space bent around his fist as he brought it down.

A perfect execution of his Grade 6 art, Void Fist.

Cecilia’s four spells all erupted at once, creating a shield of fire, wind, lightning, and earth.

It wasn’t enough.

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Ren’s fist crashed into the barrier.

CRACK.

The spells collapsed.

The impact struck Cecilia’s body.

For a split second, nothing happened.

Then—

BOOOOOOOM.

The ground beneath her shattered.

The entire arena floor broke apart as the spell circles flickered violently, failing to sustain their structure against the sheer force of his attack.

Cecilia coughed, barely standing, her body trembling.

She was strong.

But Ren Kagu was stronger.

She knew it.

And Ren knew it too.

"Give up," he said calmly, lowering his fists.

Cecilia gritted her teeth.

She wasn’t a fool. She had delayed the inevitable, but she wasn’t winning.

Still—she hated surrendering.

But her body was already giving out.

She exhaled, straightened her posture, and raised a hand.

"I surrender," she said, her voice smooth but slightly bitter.

The crowd erupted, cheering wildly as the match concluded.

Ren’s expression didn’t change.

He turned away.

"Not bad," he admitted before walking off.

Cecilia, despite the pain in her bones, smirked.

"Not bad yourself," she muttered under her breath.

And with that, the match ended.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Jin Ashbluff stepped onto the arena, his expression calm, his twin shortswords resting easily in his hands. The air around him carried the faint chill of death, a silent whisper of his necromantic power. Across from him, Rachel Creighton’s golden hair glowed under the stadium lights, her sapphire eyes brimming with unwavering determination. The golden aura of her Saintess Gift shimmered around her, a stark contrast to the eerie, spectral energy surrounding Jin.

The announcer barely finished speaking before Jin moved. His foot barely touched the ground, yet he surged forward, vanishing into a blur of motion. Rachel’s instincts screamed at her as she raised her hands, light magic coiling around her fingertips. A snap of her fingers sent a sphere of radiant energy hurtling toward him.

Jin didn’t stop. With an almost lazy flick of his wrist, one of his shortswords intercepted the sphere, the dark mana surrounding his blade dulling the explosion upon contact. He closed the gap instantly, his second sword striking toward Rachel’s ribs.

A golden barrier flared into existence just in time.

Jin clicked his tongue as his blade bounced off harmlessly.

Instantly, he surrounded his body in the bones of his skeletons. The signature Bone Armour, a vital spell for necromancers in 1v1 situations where their summons won’t be of much use.

Jin continued attacking, bringing down his two shortswords in a sharp, fluid motion.

Rachel retaliated, her fingers tracing a rapid sigil in the air. A pulse of golden light erupted from her body, repelling him backward. She didn’t stop there—her free hand conjured a second sigil, this one blooming into dozens of piercing light spears.

Jin exhaled, his body shifting. Shadows curled at his feet, and in the next breath, he was gone.

Rachel’s eyes flickered, her senses sharpening. Jin was behind her. She spun just in time to meet his next strike, light coating her arm as she formed a hasty shield. The impact sent vibrations through her bones. He was fast, impossibly fast.

"You’re strong," Jin admitted as he slid back, the flicker of a smirk gracing his lips.

"And you’re persistent," Rachel responded, her hands already moving to form another spell.

Jin didn’t allow her the time. The moment his foot touched the ground, spectral wails filled the air, a chilling, mournful cry that sent shivers down the spines of those watching. His mana surged, coalescing into the next movement of his Grade 6 art—Wail of the Departed.

A haunting mist spread through the arena, filled with the echoes of the lost. Shadows flickered in the corners of Rachel’s vision, clawing at her focus, making her second-guess where Jin would strike from. A clever tactic.

Rachel didn’t flinch.

She exhaled, gripping the pendant around her neck. The golden light that had always surrounded her burst into full radiance, banishing the mist with its sheer presence.

Jin barely had time to react before a beam of pure light magic lanced toward him. He twisted, barely dodging as the heat of the spell seared past his shoulder.

"Annoying," he muttered.

Rachel smiled. "I get that a lot."

Jin decided then that he needed to finish this quickly. The faint whispers of the dead curled around his weapons, a sign of his next move—Phantom Blades.

His dual swords shimmered as afterimages of his strikes filled the space between them. Dozens of slashes that were both real and not, attacking from every conceivable angle.

Rachel’s eyes narrowed as she conjured her defense. Light expanded from her in a dome, an unbreakable bastion against the incoming onslaught.

For a few agonizing seconds, it seemed neither would yield.

Then, Rachel’s lips parted in a whispered chant, and the light dome fractured—not in failure, but in transformation. The broken shards of golden energy didn’t fade. Instead, they surged outward in countless blinding streaks.

Jin’s movements slowed just for an instant. And that was enough.

Rachel gathered the last of her mana, forming a condensed spear of holy light. She threw it with everything she had.

Jin barely raised his blades in time.

The impact sent him skidding back, his feet digging into the ground, arms trembling against the force. The moment his stance broke, the stadium’s magic flared—detecting his surrender to gravity, to exhaustion, to the inevitable.

A buzzer rang.

Rachel Creighton stood victorious.

Jin let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Guess I lose."

Rachel, panting, smiled. "Barely."

Jin flicked his swords, the dark aura fading. "Next time, I’ll win."

Rachel only nodded, her sapphire eyes gleaming. "I’ll be waiting."