Chapter 801 The Strange Student
Unfortunately, either the ghostly fighter lacked the skill to weave such a delicate layer of attacks, or he simply had no idea how. Either way, he couldn't keep up anymore.
His movements became sluggish, his footwork dragged, and though the brute fighter suffered the same exhaustion, his sharper senses and superior technical prowess only further cemented the difference between them.
It made one thing painfully clear—the brute fighter likely hailed from a more prestigious lineage than the ghostly warrior. His command over combat knowledge was proof enough.
Northern would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly disappointed. But what could he have done?
All he wanted was to observe—to study as many combat styles as possible, to dissect and evolve his own.
The next member from the ghostly warrior's team stepped into the center of the coliseum. The brute warrior, though visibly tired, had no choice but to face his next opponent. The rules compelled him. Surrendering would count as a loss for his team, and no warrior with dignity would so easily throw in the towel.
The battle pattern had been straightforward so far—the first member of the opposing team defeated the first member of his team. Then, the brute warrior entered, crushed the first opponent, and went on to defeat the second as well.
Now, only one last enemy remained. If the brute warrior could push through—if he could at least injure this final opponent enough for his last teammate to secure victory—then their team still had a chance.
But things did not unfold as planned.
His defeat was instant.
The opponent that entered the arena was terrifying—far more than the last. It was as if they had deliberately saved their strongest fighter for last.
A whirlwind exploded from the newcomer's vicinity, a violent burst of wind so intense it felt like the aftermath of a catastrophic collision. The shockwave rippled outward, tearing through the air, rattling the very foundations of the coliseum.
The brute warrior reacted instantly. He slammed his axe into the ground, activating an ability to shield himself.
A pale blue light flickered before him—a protective barrier—yet it shattered before it could fully form. The shards of energy dissipated into nothingness before even touching the ground.
The whirlwind was unstoppable. It did not pause, did not wane, did not so much as allow a breath between its relentless charge. It surged forward, consuming everything in its path, and before the brute warrior could react further—
He was launched into the air.
His body reeled backward, twisting violently mid-flight before crashing down onto the coliseum floor. Dust and debris burst into the air as his massive form struck the ground, his body embedding itself into the empty base of the arena.
The coliseum fell silent.
This battle… was already over.
The victor stood at the center of the arena, his long black hair swaying in the tender wind—a wind that carried the weight of his triumph. The glow in his eyes burned with a white, ethereal brilliance.
Yet beneath that purity lay something far more dangerous.
A terrible destructive will lurked within, coiled and suppressing itself, bound only by his cold, unyielding expression. It was as if the very flames that roared in his soul had been subdued, shackled beneath an iron discipline.
Then—
Something felt off.
Northern's gaze narrowed.
'He doesn't look like a student to me…'
His eyes shifted to the left, catching sight of Aster. His companion was locked in place, his eyes wide as he stared at the arena, transfixed by the battle's climax.
Northern lingered for a moment before finally breaking the silence.
"Do you know this guy?"
Aster didn't respond immediately. He hesitated, then turned to Northern, his expression slightly confused. He pointed to himself.
"Who? Me?"
Northern seethed.
"Who else would I be talking to?"
Aster chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.
"Don't mind me… You've been acting rather aloof lately. It's a little shocking that you suddenly decided to talk to me."
Northern merely shrugged, silent for a second before raising an eyebrow at him.
"Well? I asked a question."
"Oh, oh—right, of course."
Aster's gaze drifted back to the arena, his brows furrowed in thought as he studied the lone figure standing victorious. Another student was now making their way onto the stage.
He lingered on the sight, contemplating, before finally speaking.
"Well, I don't exactly know him. But considering we're from the non-combative school, isn't that normal? We don't really know anyone from the combative school."
Northern remained silent for a beat. Then, with a slight nod, he muttered,
"I guess so…"
Aster was right.
But Northern wasn't going to accept that.
That student looked too suspicious. Too good. Too overwhelming—as though he knew exactly what he was doing.
His presence felt unnatural.
His eyes concealed a force—a will so destructive that, if unleashed, it could swallow the entire coliseum in a single sweep.
It was unsettling.
And with everything happening lately, Northern wanted to be absolutely sure nothing was out of place.
Then—in less than a second—the last team member of the brute's squad met the same fate. His body hurtled through the air before crashing onto the same spot where his teammate had fallen just moments ago.
The medics rushed in, their movements swift, practiced. Within seconds, the unconscious fighter was secured onto a stretcher and carried away.
The strange student was declared the winner.
The coliseum erupted. Cheers soared, voices blending into a euphoric roar that shook the very air. The crowd adored him.
Yet, amid the chaos—
A cold, piercing gaze locked onto Northern.
The shift in energy was instantaneous—like an ice-cold blade grazing the back of his neck. A chill ran through him, a reaction far deeper than mere instinct.
Northern's breath hitched.
His head snapped around, scanning the crowd—searching.
Was he looking at someone else?
But no one around him noticed.
No one else reacted.
It was just the two of them.
Their eyes met.
The strange student's lips curled into a small, knowing smile—and without a word, he turned and vanished from the arena.
Northern's pulse pounded against his ribs. His heart thundered in his chest.
'What the hell now…?'
Something was definitely not right.