Chapter 175: Ranged Combat

Chapter 175: Chapter 175: Ranged Combat

The tension inside the Grand Swiss Colosseum reached its absolute peak as the final rounds of the combat divisions unfolded beneath the shimmering adamantine containment domes.

In the Unarmed Combat Finals, the representative from the Ding Dynasty delivered a masterclass in ancient meridian control. Facing a massive, cybernetically enhanced vanguard from the Northern Coalitions, the Dynasty’s chief martial prodigy channeled a roaring stream of ancestral golden chi through his palm pathways. With a strike that sounded like a cracking whip, he bypassed the heavy armor entirely, destabilizing his opponent’s internal mana flow and forcing an instant yield to claim the gold.

Shortly after, the Melee Armed Combat Finals erupted into a primal display of raw nature force. The warriors of the Amazonian Collective Tribes proved completely unstoppable. Wielding ancient bone-carved spears and venom-tempered obsidian blades infused with wild, untamed totemic spirits, the Amazonian champion tore through the pristine defensive arrays of the Western Alliance’s elite knights. With a blinding flash of emerald aura and a sound like a leaping jaguar, the tribal champion disarmed the final contender, securing a decisive victory for the Collective.

As the roaring crowd stood to honor the new champions, Rowan leaned against the gallery balcony, adjusting the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat as his sharp eyes scanned the arena floor.

"Look at them," Jeremy murmured beside him, nodding toward the podiums. "The Ding Dynasty took the unarmed crown, but that lad’s meridians are practically screaming from channeling that much golden chi. And the Amazonian champion... she might have won the armed division, but her arms are covered in micro-tears from resisting that totemic backlash."

"Winning combat at this level always comes at a severe cost," Rowan replied smoothly, a calm, knowing smirk touching his lips. "The Ding Dynasty forced their dragon-chi pathways, leaving lingering heat-toxins inside their channels. The Amazonians relied on wild, unfiltered totemic brews that leave heavy elemental residue in the bloodstream."

Rowan folded his arms, looking out over the stadium as medical teams rushed out with standard high-grade healing salves and nutrient pills.

"When the adrenaline wears off tonight," Rowan noted, "every single champion down there—and the dozen defeated contenders behind them—is going to realize that standard medicinal pills will only clog their meridians with more mineral slag. They’re going to need true, uncorrupted recovery resources if they want to heal without destroying their long-term potential."

"And Eden International is about to be the only name on their minds," Jeremy chuckled, shaking his head in admiration.

***

The Swiss official stepped back onto the central podium, his voice echoing across the silent stadium:

"Ladies and gentlemen, the martial combat divisions have officially concluded! We now move to the ranged combat of the Global Awakener’s Tournament!"

The Swiss official’s voice boomed across the Colosseum, instantly drawing every eye upward as the massive holographic screen hovering over the center ring flared with bright blue light. The bracket schedule for the next phase of the tournament displayed itself in sharp, glowing letters across the wide screen above:

[RANGED COMBAT DIVISION]

Mages Combat 1v1

Sharpshooters Combat 1v1

A fresh wave of excitement reverberated through the grandstands. Where the melee divisions had been a brutal showcase of raw muscle, bone-crunching strikes, and weapon mastery, the ranged combat division promised an explosive display of high-density elemental mana, long-distance precision, and destructive magic.

The Swiss arena engineers immediately went to work. With a low harmonic hum, the floor of the central stage expanded outward, pushing back the ring boundaries to create a massive, multi-hundred-meter firing zone. Surrounding the perimeter, additional layers of transparent, multi-tiered adamantine shielding rose from the bedrock, designed to absorb high-impact elemental blasts, hyper-velocity mana rounds, and explosive spellcraft.

Up in the elevated gallery, Jeremy adjusted his posture against the brass railing, his eyes locked onto the glowing bracket board.

"Mages and Sharpshooters," Jeremy remarked with a whistle. "This is where the energy consumption goes through the roof. A single high-tier elemental spell or mana-infused sniper shot burns through a cultivator’s internal reserves in seconds."

"And it’s not just mana depletion," Rowan said calmly, tipping the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat as he watched the first wave of contestants enter the preparation alcoves. "Compressing that much elemental energy into long-range projectiles forces massive heat and elemental backlash directly into their core networks. Fire mages end up with severe meridian scorching, while frost mages suffer core calcification."

Jeremy smirked, glancing over at Rowan. "In other words... more high-end clients for Eden International once they feel the burn."

"Precision and power always come at a price," Rowan replied with a light smile. "Let’s see who can handle the strain."

Below on the stage, the light atop the containment barrier turned crimson, signaling the start of the Mages Combat 1v1 category.

The crowd erupted into cheers as a Pyromancer from the Mediterranean League stepped into the western quadrant, his hands instantly igniting into twin pillars of roaring white fire, while his opponent—a storm-weaver from the Northern Coalitions—floated several feet above the eastern quadrant, surrounded by crackling, azure arc-lightning.

"Begin!" the referee’s voice echoed, and the entire colosseum erupted into a blinding flash of elemental fury.

As the arena erupted into a blinding spectacle of thunder and flame, Rowan drew a sleek, multi-faceted Imperial optical crystal from his pocket. Activating the device with a soft tap of his mana, the crystal hovered silently above his palm, its internal runes spinning as it began capturing high-definition, multi-spectral recordings of the entire ranged combat division.

Rowan wasn’t just recording the visual action; the array was configured to capture high-frequency mana signatures, tracing the internal energy flows, casting delays, and meridian strain of every contestant on the floor.

Down in the Mages 1v1 arena, the duel between the Pyromancer and the Storm-weaver reached a terrifying crescendo. Roaring columns of white-hot plasma slammed into arcs of blinding azure lightning, sending violent thermal shockwaves crashing against the adamantine containment barriers. The Pyromancer eventually forced a breach with a compressed flame-burst, but Rowan’s lens caught the exact split-second stutter in his casting rhythm—a brief, three-millisecond delay caused by intense heat backlash clogging his internal pathways.

Shortly after, the ring shifted into an expanded 800-meter firing line for the Sharpshooters 1v1 bracket.

The spectacle was terrifyingly precise. An arcane sniper from the Northern Coalitions, wielding a high-density mana-rifle, traded shots with a spirit-bow archer from the Eastern Dynasties.

THUMP—BOOM!

Hyper-velocity mana rounds and glowing spirit-arrows shattered the sound barrier, traveling the length of the arena in fractions of a second. The kinetic impact against target shields sounded like heavy artillery detonations. Rowan’s crystal recorded every kinetic trajectory, wind-resistance variable, recoil recovery time, and mana-charging interval in real-time.

"Taking notes for later?" Jeremy asked, glancing at the glowing recording crystal floating near Rowan’s shoulder.

"Squad 07," Rowan replied smoothly, adjusting the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat as the crystal logged the marksman’s recoil strain. "When we return to the Empire, I’m compiling this data into a full tactical briefing for my squad members."

Jeremy raised an eyebrow in appreciation. "Smart. Most combatants only pay attention to their own division, but seeing how foreign mages set their casting rhythms and how sharpshooters structure their sightlines is invaluable tactical intelligence."

"Precisely," Rowan said with a calm smirk, storing the filled recording crystal back into his spatial ring. "Foreign powers rely heavily on standardized spell formulas and weapon specifications. Squad 07 will know their cast times, recoil limits, and core backlashes before we ever step onto a joint battlefield with them."

With the ranged combat divisions delivering explosive results, the stadium lights shifted once more. The physical destruction of the battle ring began to recede into the bedrock, making way for the long-awaited setup of the tournament’s primary event.