Chapter 225: Quarterfinals (2)

While the vanguards exchanged heavy blows on the frontline, a quieter maneuver unfolded beneath the chaotic center of the arena. Smithy’s Void Eel phased silently through the arena floor. It shot up and wrapped its shadowy coils tight around Wang Shu’s legs. The enemy healer yelped and fell hard, his staff clattering across the stone.

Without Wang Shu’s healing aura mending their battered armor, the Western Federation’s formation lost its structural support. Their defensive line shuddered, then broke entirely under Central’s coordinated assault.

​Watching from the rear, Long Wei didn’t shout orders to regroup. He simply exhaled a slow, controlled breath, and stopped holding back.

He burst through Garrett and Elise’s defense line in a blur of speed, He closed the thirty-yard gap in seconds, coming to a dead halt exactly three paces in front of Nathan. The force of his sudden stop kicked up a cloud of pulverized stone.

"You’ve trained your party well," Long Wei said, his breathing steady. "But now it’s just you and me."

Nathan quickly nocked an arrow. "I’ve faced worse."

Long Wei smiled. "Have you?"

He vanished.

One millisecond he was standing there; the next, the air beside Nathan’s ear rushed loudly as Long Wei’s fist drove forward. ℴ

​Nathan triggered [Nimble Feet], feeling wind magic lighten his boots. He pivoted hard on his heel, letting the raw physical force of the punch graze his shoulder guard. Nathan backpedaled, his boots sliding across the stone as he fell into a rhythmic evasive stance. He fired a point-blank volley of [Mana Arrows]—three glowing streaks of blue light aimed directly at Long Wei’s chest.

Long Wei didn’t break his stride. His hands became a blur of open-palmed deflections. He slapped the concentrated bolts of magic out of the air, redirecting their kinetic energy into the floor where they exploded in showers of harmless sparks.

​"Too linear," Long Wei smirked, closing the distance with a sweeping crescent kick aimed at Nathan’s ribs.

​Nathan threw himself into a backward roll, coming up on one knee. "[Death’s Homing Compass]," he whispered.

The dark sigil flashed over Long Wei’s chest. Nathan fired. The arrow zipped past Long Wei, then hooked sharply in mid-air, curving back to strike the martial artist from behind.

Long Wei didn’t even look. He just reached over his shoulder and snatched the arrow out of the air. His fist clenched, crushing the shaft into glowing dust.

"Impressive," Long Wei said. "But still not enough."

He lunged forward. Nathan had no room to dodge. He was forced to use the Overlord’s copied defensive skill. [Impenetrable Fortress]. The golden barrier flared around him just as Long Wei’s heavy fist slammed into it. The shield cracked wildly under the pressure, but it held.

"You’ve got more tricks than you let on," Long Wei noted, his eyes gleaming. "Interesting."

He threw another rapid combo. Nathan dodged, blocked with his bow riser, and finally triggered [Invisibility], vanishing from sight to reposition.

Long Wei simply stopped. He closed his eyes. He listened to the scrape of boots on stone. He sensed the shift in the air.

He pivoted instantly and threw a blind, devastating punch.

The blow caught Nathan squarely in the shoulder, knocking him out of stealth. Nathan staggered back, but as Long Wei stepped in with a sweeping follow-up kick, Nathan countered.

[Tyrant Dragon Fist].

Nathan’s free hand met Long Wei’s leg. The spectral dragon head roared on impact, sending a violent shockwave between them that pushed Long Wei sliding back across the arena.

They stood ten yards apart, both breathing hard.

"You’re stronger than I thought," Long Wei wiped his mouth. "But you’re hiding something. I can feel it."

Nathan didn’t answer. He planted his feet, drew his bowstring back, and activated [Focus Shot].

The mana began to build. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds.

Long Wei didn’t interrupt. He watched the terrifying amount of energy gather on the arrow tip, his eyes narrowing in challenge. He wanted to test it.

At exactly sixty seconds, the arrow burned with blinding light. Long Wei planted his feet and charged.

Nathan released the string.

The arrow blazed across the arena like a comet. Long Wei stopped, crossed his arms over his chest, and took the blast head-on. The explosion of mana kicked up a massive cloud of dust, sending the martial artist sliding backward until his boots ground to a halt near the arena wall.

When the dust cleared, Long Wei was still standing. He slowly lowered his arms and looked at his hands. They were badly burned, trembling slightly from the raw power.

He looked up at Nathan and smiled.

"You win this round," Long Wei said loud enough for the referee to hear. "But next time, it will be different."

He raised a hand and surrendered.

The referee’s orb-face flashed a massive celebratory emoji. "Central Federation advances to the semifinals!"

After the match, as the arena cleared out, Long Wei walked over to where Nathan was packing his gear.

"You used skills that aren’t yours out there," Long Wei said quietly, his tone serious. "I’ve heard of a class like that. One that copies other people’s abilities. I read about it in my nation’s archives. But I’d never actually seen it." He paused, looking Nathan up and down. "I think it was called... the Overlord class? But your profile says you’re an Archer." He tilted his head. "Hmm."

Nathan tensed, his grip tightening on his bow. "How do you know about the Overlord?"

Long Wei smiled faintly. "I told you. I respect strategy. I study my opponents. And I know the signs." His smile faded. "Those grey-robed figures in the stands. They’re watching you a lot closer than the others. I’d guess it’s because of what you carry inside you. Be careful, Archer. They’re not the only ones watching."

Without waiting for an answer, the martial artist turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps fading into the labyrinth of the stadium corridors.

Nathan stood alone in the suffocating quiet of the hallway, the chill of the stone walls suddenly feeling very close, his mind racing with the implications of the targets newly painted on his back.