NOVPUB"Is this necessary?"
Kuise slightly lowered his gaze, looking at the file handed over by Lanci.
The official match’s rules indeed covered some disclaimers and risk disclosures. During the negotiation with student council president Monasite, Dean Sphintos had formed a verbal agreement.
What was handed over was a document merely listing out the rules in detail. Once signed it would carry a formal legal effect.
The terms were simple and straightforward, devoid of any apparent traps. It was purely about determining the winner, and even betting on life and death.
But, it wasn’t like anyone would actually die, given the high specifications of the ancient field barrier technique deployed in the Knight College’s Arena.
"Contestants should lead by example in standardizing the competition."
Lanci spoke solemnly and fairly.
"Excellent, just as I wanted."
Kuise accepted the document with a twitch of his mouth and a cruel smirk.
Even though those on the opposing side seemed a bit odd, the stark gap in power was not something that could be bridged through bluffing and psychological tactics alone.
With this contract established, he need not hold back later on. He will show these reckless fools what cruelty truly means.
After checking the validity and accuracy of the document, Kuise, along with the other fighters, signed the agreement.
Kuise shifted his eyes to gaze at the five people standing behind Lanci, seemingly unable to resist tormenting them.
"So, you both can start the battle after drawing back to a safe distance and having the coach leave the battlefield."
The referee secured the "Knight College’s Arena Team Fight Disclaimer-Risk Acknowledgment" after gathering signatures from all ten fighters and made an announcement.
"Hehe."
Kuise sneered. He turned to Lanci, his thumb tracing across his throat. The threatening gesture seemed to be telling Lanci that he was next.
Lanci didn’t respond. He descended from the battlefield holding only the coach’s portfolio.
He never wastes words.
Drops of rain started to fall from the ominous clouds, getting blown onto the arena’s barrier by the cold wind.
As all contestants took their positions, the crowd’s chatter grew louder in anticipation of the upcoming match. Some clutched hot beverages to ward off the chilling cold, while others held on to their loved ones, sharing the warmth.
"The odds of our Royal Arolan Academy fighters against Ichrite Academy’s fighters stand at about 1 to 6.5."
"The match that got called off halfway earlier was due to an overwhelming gap in power levels. After all, they have Kuise, a sixth-order, while the strongest from Ichrite is only fifth-order."
"Looking forward to what transformations coach Lanci can bring."
Although the aura that Ichrite Academy had entered the arena with was eerily strange.
On closer thought, it might just be a style to make the match appear more suspenseful since Ichrite is the underdog on paper.
As the minute hand on the clock pointed straight up, the Ichrite Academy’s Ancient Bell Tower started chiming, echoing through the winter afternoon. Deep and rhythmic, the bell’s toll mixed with the audience’s uncontainable cheers.
The final toll rang through the arena, signaling the start of the match. The forthcoming moments would decide the outcome - victory or defeat, glory or disgrace.
In the center of the Battle Square, the ten contestants faced each other in a weighty atmosphere. The slightest movement from either side would trigger a stormy conflict.
In this dimly lit and windy arena, pockets of standoffs became everyone’s focus. Everyone was waiting for the decisive moment to start the war.
"Start the match!"
After the third bell, the referee yelled, and the cheering reached its climax.
Both sides chose to begin with a direct attack!
Ten figures inched forward, testing the waters.
Unexpectedly, from Ichrite’s side, anticipated initially to play defensively and maintain a distance, sprang forward like beasts escaping their cages.
At the same time, they began to use the Magic Cards bound to their bodies, which were the only Magic tools permissible for use in this contest.
"Wait, isn’t this match supposed to be a competitive fight among fighters?"
A series of surprised mutterings came from the audience.
Generally, fighters who are not adept at casting spells would load their limited card slots with strengthening and immunity Spell Cards to maximize their innate power, combat skills, and flexibility.
However, these guys from Ichrite had already used their Equipment Cards to don black heavy armor. In their blood-smudged hands were large axes, scythes, and sawtooth broadswords. Their terrifying aura and sinister smiles made them appear like a gang of bloodthirsty butchers.
In an instant, the fighters from the Royal Arolan Academy, who had intended to meet head-on, stopped in their tracks, quite taken aback.
The simple act of looking into the eyes of these adversaries from afar filled the unarmed fighters with a chilling dread.
Heavily clad warriors could take hits and deal them out too, albeit clumsily. Lightly armored fighters had their flexibility and high burst power against their fragile constitution.
Though the field was wide open, it turned into a cage with the barrier outlining it. If a heavily clad warrior had the audacity to lay down some area-effect Magic, they might even be able to block off the fighters’ flexibility.
Though the rules didn’t prohibit carrying weapon Equipment Cards, as fighters, logic dictates that their weapons ought to be something like gloves or arm guards.
But that’s not the main concern.
What was crucial was that the guys from Ichrite had bloodshot eyes, almost popping out of their sockets. Their prolonged tension caused their facial muscles to twitch, lips to tremble, and their breaths to grow erratic. Each intake of breath came with a strange quivering sound.
The heads of those clad in heavy armor bobbed ceaselessly, seemingly suppressing the internal agony and madness.
The costume wear and mental state these guys carried finally stirred an instinctual fear in the people from the Arolan Kingdom.
Others didn’t look convincing enough.
These guys looked incredibly real! 𝖓𝔬𝔳𝔭𝖚𝖇.𝔠𝔬𝖒
"Heh heh heh heh, it’s time to slaughter the pigs..."
The laughter from the "Soul of Fighters’ Club" members rang out, sounding like the lowest and deepest notes on a piano, with a touch of a metallic undertone.
The only thing that could quench their thirst now was the blood and marrow of the swine before them.
Anek, in the audience stand, widened his eyes, clenching the edge of the table as he stood.
Were these five guys genuinely students of Ichrite Academy?
If one were to suggest they belong to the Resurrection Believers, Anek would have his doubts.
Resurrection Believers usually didn’t dress like this!
Then, on the Battle Square.
"Kill!"
"Battle!"
The fighters leaned forward, as if being dragged by their weapons. The unbelievably rapid rush was fearsomely menacing!
