Chapter 602: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: The Final II

Maxwell stared at Vera while the noise of hundreds of thousands of cheering spectators continued to fill the Arena.

The sound was almost overwhelming.

Voices came from every direction, with some people shouting Vera’s name while others continued supporting Maxwell. Banners moved above the stands, and the large holographic screens displayed both finalists from different angles.

Yet Maxwell barely noticed any of it now.

His golden eyes were now fixed and focused on the girl standing several meters away from him.

I have finally made it into the finals.

The thought came naturally.

After everything he had gone through, after facing so many opponents and passing through his earlier matches with a noticeable ease at least for the most earlier part, he had finally reached the final match of the Grand First-Year Combat Festival.

But another thought followed immediately.

Maxwell remembered the tenth round.

He remembered Ezra.

He remembered the Gun Alchemist forcing him to use power he had not wanted to reveal.

His expression tightened.

"Tsk."

He clicked his tongue while his right hand slowly tightened into a fist.

He had won that battle.

But the memory of how close he had come to losing had not disappeared.

Before either of the two could move, Professor Kent stepped between Vera and Maxwell.

His expression was calm as he looked at both students.

"So, my dear students..."

Kent paused for a moment.

The crowd gradually became quieter as people realized that he was about to speak.

"Make sure to give your best, and whoever wins..."

He raised his right index finger.

"...will be number one in your first year."

His voice carried clearly through the Arena.

The statement alone caused another wave of excitement from the spectators.

Kent then allowed his serious expression to disappear.

A cheeky smile appeared instead.

"So, entertain us."

Maxwell’s mouth twitched slightly.

Vera simply stared at Kent.

Kent lifted the microphone again.

"Alright! Let the countdown begin!!"

The moment he finished speaking, he quickly grabbed Patrick and stepped off the fight platform.

The four Holographic Screens immediately changed.

The images showing different parts of the Arena disappeared and were replaced by the countdown.

The first number appeared.

"THREE!!!"

The spectators shouted the number at almost the exact same moment.

Their voices rolled through the Arena, mixing with the music and the distant sound of the crowd moving in the stands.

Vera changed her posture.

She folded her arms and leaned slightly toward her right side.

Her dull black eyes narrowed as she looked directly at Maxwell.

There was no nervousness on her face.

If anything, she looked as though she were waiting for something mildly interesting to happen.

"Hmmm..."

Maxwell breathed out quietly.

His shoulders loosened for a moment before he steadied himself again.

Since the moment he had met Vera, she had been one of the fellow First-Years he had never particularly enjoyed dealing with.

Not because she was loud.

That would have been easier.

Vera was the opposite.

She could look at someone with that same dull expression while saying something that made them question their own decisions.

And now he had to face her in the final.

To believe I would be facing her in the final.

Maxwell’s thoughts were interrupted.

"You would have preferred facing Diane."

Vera spoke without changing her expression.

Her voice was casual, almost as if she had simply commented on the weather.

Maxwell’s eyes flinched.

He stared at her.

She knows what I was about to say?

For a moment, his expression showed genuine surprise.

The next countdown number appeared.

"TWO!!"

The spectators shouted it together.

Maxwell continued observing Vera.

"But that doesn’t have anything to do with seeing the future, and that is even if that ability is actually true."

He muttered the words to himself.

Maxwell was clearly not convinced.

He had heard rumors about Vera’s ability to see the future and little rumors about her knowing a person’s thoughts before they say them.

But to him, there was no way she could simply know every thought running through his mind.

At least, that was what he wanted to believe.

His mind went back to the moment before he had been called onto the platform.

He had been with Cherry as usual.

Normally, Cherry would have wished for Maxwell’s victory.

This time, however, she had spoken in a strangely conflicted way.

She had made it clear in her nervous personality that she was also cheering for Vera, but she still did not want to see him get hurt.

Maxwell’s face twisted slightly.

He raised one hand and pretended to wipe away a tear beneath his eye.

"I can’t believe Cherry told me that she wanted Lady Vera Ashenlocke to win."

He muttered to himself again.

Vera tilted her head toward the other side.

Her black eyes remained fixed on him.

"Golden Flames, then White Flames..."

Her tone remained casual.

"I wonder if you would also show Pink Flames or maybe Green Flames, Colorful Flame Boy."

Maxwell frowned.

"Colorful Flame Boy?"

He repeated the nickname with clear confusion.

Vera did not bother explaining herself.

Instead, she continued looking at him.

"I will advise you that you give up in this fight, Colorful Flame Boy."

Maxwell’s expression became more serious.

"And why would I do that?"

The question came out with more force this time.

The final countdown number appeared above them.

"ONE!!"

The crowd shouted the number so loudly that the sound seemed to shake the platform.

Vera continued speaking as though she had not noticed.

"That’s because you are not facing the Jewel of Ash."

She paused.

Her dull black eyes remained on Maxwell.

"You are facing an angry girlfriend of an Entertainer who you beat."

Maxwell blinked.

Vera continued without the slightest concern for his confusion.

"The fury isn’t going to dry off any time soon, so I’m giving you the chance now, Colorful Flame Boy."

A faint change appeared at the corner of her mouth.

"Aren’t I really kind?"

Maxwell stared at her bewildered.

"Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Colorful Flame Boy."

She tilted her head slightly to the other side again.

"Did I already say Colorful Flame Boy?"

She thought for a moment.

"I did."

Maxwell looked completely bewildered.

"First, who the hell is even Entertainer?"

His brows furrowed.

"And you really think I will give up because of my lack of experience in combat against Alchemists?"

His voice carried a little more anger now.

Vera’s expression did not change.

Maxwell’s thoughts became more serious.

Why would she even think she could handle me?

He could not sense Vera’s Cognis level clearly.

Still, from what he had observed during her match against Lady Diane Bergwyn, he believed she was only close to a breakthrough into the Meister Alchemist rank.

Against the power of the Sun, and she really thinks she could easily take me on?

His confidence returned.

He remembered his own abilities.

He remembered the power he had shown during the previous rounds.

Then he remembered Ezra.

His expression became slightly darker.

"Tsk."

He clicked his tongue.

"It’s my fault for going into that fight against Ezra without going all out, but this fight will be very different, Lady Vera Ashenlocke."

His voice was serious now.

Cognis suddenly surged from Maxwell’s body.

The air around him shifted.

A strong gust pushed outward from his position, causing loose dust and small pieces of stone to move across the platform.

His clothes fluttered around his body.

Both of his fists tightened.

The pressure coming from his body was no longer something that could be mistaken for nervousness.

The four Holographic Screens changed again.

The countdown disappeared.

A single word appeared across them.

"BEGIN!!!!!"

Hundreds of thousands of voices erupted.

Small fireworks shot into the air above the Arena before exploding in several bright flashes, signaling the beginning of the final match of the Grand First-Year Combat Festival.

The spectators immediately rose into another roar.

Vera did not move immediately.

Instead, she looked at Maxwell.

"So, you do learn."

Her voice was calm.

"I thought a child roaming the backwaters with a Mysterious Elder wouldn’t even be able to understand the difference between learning his weakness and knowing not to think too highly of himself."

Vera finally shifted her feet.

Her body lowered slightly.

Her arms separated.

She took her stance.

There was no dramatic change in her expression.

She simply became ready.

Maxwell’s voice came closer.

"Aren’t you the one who is overrating herself right now?"

The distance between them had disappeared almost instantly.

Vera’s black eyes locked onto the incoming fist.

"Ara."

She said it casually.

Maxwell’s punch tore through the air.

The pressure from the movement pushed her hair backward as his fist traveled straight toward her face.

Yet Vera did not look surprised.

She had already seen it.

Or perhaps she had already known it would happen.

Maxwell’s fist reached her face.

Whoosh!

His punch passed directly through her.

For a fraction of a moment, it looked as though he had hit her.

Then Vera’s figure faded.

Maxwell’s fist had only struck an afterimage.

"Tsk."

He immediately twisted his body.

He could not see Vera.

But his senses detected something.

She was close.

Very close.

Right in front of him.

Maxwell’s head turned sharply.

He looked left.

Nothing.

He looked right.

Nothing.

He began lowering his gaze, but he was not fast enough.

Bam!

Vera’s palm struck directly beneath his chin.

Maxwell’s head snapped upward.

"Argh!"

His body shifted backward from the force.

Before he could properly recover, he sensed another movement coming toward his left cheek.

He immediately raised his left arm.

His forearm moved into position to block the incoming attack.

But nothing struck it.

Maxwell’s eyes widened slightly.

Where...

Bam!

Vera’s elbow slammed into his chin.

"Argh!"

The second impact forced Maxwell’s head backward again.

He barely had time to regain his balance.

Then Vera stepped in.

Her body rotated slightly as she transferred her weight through her stance.

BAM!

Her fist drove into Maxwell’s stomach.

The punch landed solidly.

Maxwell’s body bent around the impact.

A mouthful of saliva escaped him as he was sent flying backward.

His feet left the ground.

The air parted around his body as he traveled across the platform.

Maxwell twisted his body while airborne, trying to regain control before landing.

His right foot finally struck the platform.

The impact forced his leg to bend.

He dragged his foot across the ground before coming to a stop.

His other hand immediately pressed against his stomach.

"Ahh... Ahh... Ahh... Ahhh..."

His breathing came out in rough bursts.

He then raised his other hand to his chin, rubbing the spot where Vera’s elbow had landed.

His eyes remained fixed on her.

Her speed, combat senses, and strength are surprisingly not something a normal Adept Alchemist should be able to perform.

Maxwell’s expression had become much more serious.

He had expected Vera to be strong.

He had not expected her to close the distance so quickly or to chain those attacks together without giving him enough time to properly respond.

Well, she’s the first one to show that shocking speed art that Ravenor and Ezra used against me.

Across the platform, Vera casually rolled her right hand.

Her fingers loosened.

Her wrist rotated once.

There was no dramatic expression on her face.

"Surprised or not, Colorful Flame Boy?"

She spoke as though she were asking him a simple question.

Maxwell stared at her.

Vera then reached into her Space Bag.

Her hand disappeared inside.

For the first time since the match began, something about her movement made Maxwell hesitate.

She pulled out a long looking firearm.

It was long and unlike any firearm he had seen before.

It did not resemble the firearms he had seen from the Ashenlocke firearm series.

It did not resemble the weapons associated with the Evergrey firearm series either.

The Gun’s shape alone was enough to draw attention from the spectators.

Several people in the stands leaned forward.

A few stopped cheering.

The commentators looked toward the platform.

Even Maxwell’s eyes shifted from Vera’s face to the unfamiliar firearm in her hand.

Vera held the long Gun loosely.

She rolled it once in her hand with an easy movement, allowing the weapon to rotate around her palm before she caught it again.

Then she stepped slightly to the side.

A faint wind passed through the Arena.

It moved across the platform, clearing loose snow and pushing small pieces of broken rock away from Vera’s feet.

The cold air brushed against her clothes.

Vera did not seem bothered.

She looked at Maxwell through her dull black eyes.

"I told you that today..."

Her voice remained calm.

"...I’m quite angry."

But there was almost nothing in her tone that suggested anger.

She did not raise her voice.

She did not glare dramatically.

She simply stood there holding the unfamiliar Gun.

But her eyes were different.

The dull black gaze she usually carried had become colder.

That small change was enough to make it clear that her earlier teasing had not been completely meaningless.

She really was angry.

And now...

Vera Ashenlocke had brought out something that no one in the Arena knew anything about.