Chapter 252: Chapter 252

A heavy silence fell upon the coliseum.

Kent Harrow, who had always carried a faint, amused smile, now stood with an expression completely void of emotion.

A simple-looking wand materialized in his hand.

It was plain, unadorned—nothing like the grand, gem-embedded staffs wielded by archmages.

The moment it appeared…

The world itself seemed to halt.

The howling winds of Alaric's Torrential Downpour suddenly stilled.

The cascading rain stopped mid-fall, droplets frozen in place.

The air became suffocatingly dense—as if reality itself was being held hostage by an unseen force.

A strange, foreign aura spread across the coliseum, an unnatural presence that made the strongest warriors in the audience feel a primal fear crawl up their spines.

Kaelen's fingers twitched, his grip tightening around the Blade of Eternity.

"What is this…?" he muttered, his gaze darting around.

Morris, Lila, Ethan, and Sofia all felt it too.

But those who truly knew Kent understood the gravity of the situation.

Up in the VIP section, Lockwood, the Chancellor of the Dawning of Magic Academy, clenched his fists.

"This is bad…" he murmured, his eyes shadowed with worry.

'He shouldn't have brought it out.'

'Don't go too far, Kent…' he thought grimly.

Back in the arena, Rafaela let out a silent sigh.

Her usually serene expression faltered, replaced with something akin to pity as she gazed at Alaric while she muttered in empathy.

"You just had to push him to this level…"

She had seen this before.

And she knew—this battle was already over.

Even Forbes, The Pacesetter Academy's ever-calm strategist, now bore an unnaturally dark expression.

Slowly, he turned to Kaelen and the others, his voice cold, final.

"…You're about to experience," he whispered,

"the very meaning of a one-sided battle."

"What?" Guinevere asked with an incredulous expression on her face. But Forbes didn't respond as his eyes were now glued on the arena.

Back in the arena, Kent tilted his head, his empty gaze still locked on Alaric.

"I will force you to give up."

His voice was void of any amusement.

Void of anything human.

The coliseum's very foundation trembled.

The air twisted, rippled—as if the very elements themselves were bowing.

Kaelen's breath hitched.

"…What the hell is that wand?" he muttered, sweat forming on his brow as he felt the very essence of the air shifting.

All they knew was that—

The moment that wand appeared, Kent Harrow was no longer fighting.

'This is bad, I need to do something before things get worse' Alaric gritted his teeth as he thought, trying to reignite his mana domain—but—

His once-unshakable storm was… gone.

Like it never even existed.

'What..... Just happened?'

Cold sweat dripped down his back as he thought in sheer horror. "How.... Is this... possible?"

It was something far worse.

His body was telling him to surrender.

His instincts screamed at him to run.

Before he could even think, before he could even move—

"Time for you to know the difference between heaven and earth"

A single tap of the wand landed on Alaric's chest.

The one-sided battle truly began.

A deafening explosion erupted from Alaric's chest as he was sent soaring across the arena.

The sheer force of the blast cracked the very foundation of the coliseum, a trail of dust and shattered stone marking his path before his body slammed into the ground with a sickening thud. Content orıginally comes from novęlfire.net

The crowd collectively held their breath.

Then—a flicker of movement.

Through sheer survival instinct, Alaric had managed to raise a last-second wind barrier, its remnants flickering weakly around him.

'That was close' Alaric thought as he tried to rise up to his two feets. It had absorbed just enough impact to keep him from being obliterated on the spot.

But that was the only good news.

Because as the dust settled—

A sight so utterly horrifying that it made his stomach drop.

Kent was still there.

Standing amidst the rising smoke.

Were already conjuring another barrage of spells.

The moment Alaric's battered form entered his vision again—Kent's expression shifted.

A slow, twisted grin crept onto his face.

The entire coliseum erupted into a storm of destruction.

A relentless barrage of advanced elemental spells burst forth simultaneously.

Crushing earthen pillars.

Lightning spears that cracked the air.

Hurricane gales that twisted into cutting scythes.

Each spell was powerful enough to be considered a finishing move, yet Kent was unleashing them in a ceaseless, monstrous assault.

The ground where Alaric stood exploded non-stop, consuming his form entirely in a maelstrom of raw magical force.

The coliseum shook violently as Kent's spells dug into the battlefield, each impact sending shockwaves rippling through the entire arena.

The audience could only watch in utter horror.

Even the strongest fighters in the stands felt cold sweat dripping down their backs.

This wasn't just a duel anymore.

This was absolute destruction.

'This.... Is..... madness'

Kaelen's fingers twitched, his instincts screaming at him to intervene—

Because the sheer overwhelming force of Kent's magic made even his battle-hardened body feel as insignificant as an ant before a tidal wave.

He was laughing now—a slow, chilling chuckle at first before a more manic one followed as he intensified his assault.

He was no longer attacking to win.

He was attacking to break.

To make sure that Alaric never stood up again.

To utterly erase his existence from the battlefield.

This wasn't magic anymore.

A figure suddenly blurred into motion.

Her expression was eerily calm as she closed the distance in an instant.

She lifted a single hand.

A strange silver glow enveloped her palm—

And in the very next heartbeat—

Kent Harrow's body collapsed.

His spells vanished mid-cast, his form hitting the ground in an unnatural, unconscious slump.

The battlefield that had once been a hellscape of magic was now eerily still.

The dust in the air slowly cleared.

And there—amidst the wreckage—

Alaric's body lay motionless.

Seraphine's sharp eyes narrowed as she scanned the broken fighter.

Then, she finally spoke.

"…He's still breathing."

Relief swept through some of the crowd—but it was weak, barely noticeable through the suffocating fear lingering in the air.

Seraphine wasted no time.

"Medics! Get in here!" she commanded.

Several healers rushed into the arena, immediately surrounding Alaric's unconscious body as they began casting emergency spells to stabilize him.

It was only after confirming his survival that Seraphine took a deep breath—

And declared the official result.

"The Dawning of Magic Academy wins."

Not even Dawning of Magic's own students.

Because Kent Harrow had won—but at what cost?

They had all just witnessed something terrifying.

This wasn't the last time they'd see the real monster lurking behind that smile.

As the last echoes of battle faded, a heavy silence hung over the coliseum.

Lockwood, seated in the VIP section, exhaled deeply.

It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but those who knew him well could tell.

This wasn't relief from victory.

It was relief that things hadn't gone even further.

Then—without shifting his gaze from the battlefield—he spoke in a tone loud enough that almost everyone in the coliseum could hear him.

His voice was calm, but his words carried unquestionable authority.

"Kent Harrow is to be removed from the final group match. Let Sylphie lead the Dawning of Magic group for now."

For a few seconds, there was no response.

As if he had spoken to nothing but empty air.

A voice rang out from nowhere.

One that shouldn't have been there.

One that didn't belong to any visible person.

"Understood, Chancellor."

The audience shivered.

It wasn't just the response that sent a chill down their spines.

It was the way it came.

Cold. Detached. Obedient.

Spoken from absolute nothingness.

Kaelen and his teammates instinctively tensed.

Even King Alexandria—who had been watching the duel with an unreadable expression—let his gaze linger on Lockwood for a moment.

Then, in the same calm, regal tone, he finally spoke.

"Shouldn't you go check on your favored student?"

The question sounded simple enough.

But everyone in the VIP section knew—it wasn't.

Lockwood, however, remained composed.

He turned his head slightly, facing the King, and bowed his head in polite respect.

"That won't be necessary, Your Majesty."

His tone remained even. Measured.

"He will wake up soon."

Then—he added, almost as an afterthought—

"And I believe the lesson he received today will last him a while."

His answer was simple.

Yet, it carried layers beneath it.

Castenada and Marel first glanced at Lockwood before they looked at eack other. Both of them having their own interpretation of what Lockwood truly meant.

Did he mean Kent had been punished?

Did he mean that Kent had finally been reminded of his own power?

Whatever the case, one thing was certain—

The next time Kent Harrow stepped onto the battlefield…

No one would be safe.