Chapter 118: Confirmed SS-Rank

Beyond the iron doors lay the Simulated Breach Corridor, a two-hundred-meter obstacle course constructed inside a reinforced trench. Inside, shifting stone walls, laser tripwires, and thirty mechanized adamantine dummies awaited.

"Each contestant must clear the corridor in under sixty seconds while neutralizing every target," Kincaid instructed. "Precision and speed will determine the final ranking."

A scout from the Capital’s Storm-Rider Guild stepped up first.

He activated wind-attunement boots, blurring into motion as he dashed into the trench. His daggers flashed repeatedly as he struck down dummy after dummy.

He crossed the finish line at forty-five seconds, having eliminated twenty-six of the thirty targets. The Capital spectators applauded politely, relieved to see some normal competence restored to the arena.

Over the next half hour, runner after runner tackled the course.

Solar Crown’s agility specialist put on a dazzling display of fiery dashes, clocking a fast thirty-eight seconds with twenty-eight targets hit to take the lead.

Other Capital guilds hovered between forty and fifty seconds, while the provincial runners struggled under the course’s punishing mechanics. Without high-grade mobility enchantments, several triggered laser tripwires or were knocked back by shifting stone walls.

When an injured Iron-Thistle scout with a bandaged knee barely finished in fifty-eight seconds with only twelve targets hit, the Capital spectators groaned in disappointment.

"Apex Guild, present your runner," Arbiter Varos called out, having climbed back to his feet with an embarrassed scowl.

Zephyra stepped forward. She wore her dark leather armor beneath a fitted black coat, her silver hair tied in a neat ponytail.

As she walked toward the starting arch, Varos glanced at the biometric sensors on his tablet. A mocking smirk returned to his lips.

"Contestant Zephyra," Varos announced through the stadium speakers. "Our sensory array detects zero active mana within your body."

Whispers broke out in the stands.

"No mana?" a young nobleman laughed. "They’re sending an unawakened girl into an S-grade breach simulation?"

"Is Apex mocking the imperial trials?" Varos sneered down from the platform. "Perhaps your guild master would prefer to forfeit before you get injured."

Zephyra didn’t even look at him. She reached beneath her coat with her right hand, wrapping her fingers around the smooth, dark hilt of the Shadow Whip-blade.

"Start the timer," Zephyra said in a flat tone.

Varos flushed red with irritation at being ignored. He slammed his hand down on the starting console. "Begin!" he barked.

The starting horn blared.

Before the sound could finish echoing off the arena walls, Zephyra vanished.

There was no burst of fire, no flash of lightning, and no roar of wind. There was only a soundless, terrifying rush of pure kinetic velocity.

WHOOSH!

Zephyra entered the corridor like a living shadow. Her boots barely touched the stone floor as she wove through the swinging obstacles with supernatural agility.

Ten meters in, an adamantine dummy lunged from a concealed wall recess, its metal spear thrusting toward her throat.

Zephyra didn’t break stride; she just flicked her right wrist.

CLACK-SHING!

The blackened astral-steel whip-blade extended with speed. Twenty feet of razor-sharp segmented links lashed through the air like a striking viper.

The blade coiled precisely around the dummy’s neck. With a subtle tug of Zephyra’s fingers, the whip contracted, slicing through solid enchanted adamantine as if it were soft wax.

The severed metal head flew into the air, but Zephyra was already fifteen meters ahead.

Three more dummies sprang from the left, their heavy iron blades descending in an interlocking trap.

But Zephyra didn’t slow down. She twisted her body mid-air, her whip-blade hissing through the dark corridor in a wide, circular arc.

SHING! SHING! SHING!

Three clean decapitations in a second. The segmented blade snapped back instantly, locking into a solid sword in her palm before unlocking again with another flick of her wrist.

The spectators in the stands stopped breathing. On the giant broadcast screens, the cameras struggled to keep focus on her. All anyone could see was a dark phantom gliding effortlessly through the corridor, trailed by the deadly silver gleam of a segmented whip.

Obstacle after obstacle fell behind her. Every dummy that emerged was decapitated before its weapon could fully extend.

Ninety meters. One hundred and fifty meters. Two hundred meters.

Zephyra burst through the exit archway into the bright morning sun.

She slid smoothly to a stop on the arena sand and flicked her wrist. With a click, the whip-blade snapped back into its hilt and Zephyra returned it into its hidden sheath beneath her coat. Her breathing was steady and her silver hair completely undisturbed.

Behind her, inside the corridor, a synchronized chorus of metallic crashes echoed out.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

All thirty adamantine dummy heads rolled across the stone floor, perfectly severed at the neck.

The giant runic timer above the corridor froze, flashing in brilliant gold numbers:

ELAPSED TIME: 29.42 SECONDS.

TARGETS ELIMINATED: 30 / 30.

ACCURACY: 100%.

NEW ALL-EMPIRE RECORD.

The silence in the Grand Colosseum was deafening.

The Storm-Rider scout who had run forty-five seconds dropped his dagger into the sand, staring at the screen in horror.

Up on the judging platform, Arbiter Varos stood frozen; his mouth was wide open and his fingers trembled over the controls.

"Twenty-nine seconds..." someone whispered in the front row. "Without using mana... she sliced through thirty adamantine targets in less than thirty seconds!"

In Sovereign Box One, Silas Drake rose slowly from his seat. The arrogance that had defined his face for years was completely gone, replaced by simmering fury.

Evren stood calmly by the northern rail, his hands resting in the pockets of his dark coat.

He looked across the quiet arena toward Drake, meeting the Solar Crown leader’s glare with an amused, effortless smile.

"Two down," Evren murmured quietly to himself. "One to go."

Before the stadium could recover from Zephyra’s run, Grand Arbiter Kincaid’s voice boomed across the arena.

"Score recorded," Kincaid announced. "Apex Guild receives a perfect score for Pillar Two."

He gestured toward the center of the field, where heavy stone slabs parted.

"We proceed to the final trial," Kincaid declared. "Pillar Three: Striking Force and Kinetic Impact."

A twenty-foot monolith of enchanted Titan-Alloy rose from the bedrock, lined with gold compression runes.

Guild champions lined up at the monolith. Provincial brawlers barely registered four to five thousand tons of kinetic pressure, while heavy hitters from the Capital pushed the needle into the ten to twelve thousand ton range.

Then Silas Drake shoved his chair back in fury.

Vaulting over the brass rail of Sovereign Box One, he dropped onto the arena sands and strode toward the monolith.

Drake stopped before the metal pillar. Blazing golden flames swirled around his gauntlet, superheating the air into a fiery vortex.

"Solar Flare Impact!" Drake roared, slamming his fist into the metal plate.

BAM!

Shockwaves tore across the sands, and the gauge rocketed into High S-Rank.

"Eighteen thousand five hundred tons!" the sensor chimed. "High S-Rank confirmed!"

Thunderous cheers erupted from the Capital stands. Drake lowered his smoking fist and pointed directly at Evren.

"Your women fought your battles all morning, delivery boy!" Drake sneered across the arena. "Let’s see if you can even make the needle move without hiding behind gold."

Evren smiled faintly, stepping past the balcony rail. "He asked politely," Evren told Amber. "It would be rude to refuse."

Walking onto the sands in his dark coat and boots, Evren stopped before the massive monolith. Drake stood nearby, smirking in open contempt.

Evren didn’t summon fire or lightning. He simply formed a loose fist, channeling the pure density of his SS-Rank energy.

Then, with an effortless, compact motion, he tapped his knuckles against the metal plate.

CRACK!

The sound was like a mountain breaking in half. A powerful shockwave rushed through the ground, shaking the entire stadium like an earthquake.

On the monolith’s face, the runic needle slammed against the ceiling with such violence that the crystal casing shattered to dust.

BZZZT—POP!

"Warning! Kinetic impact exceeds thirty-five thousand tons!" the automated array wailed in distorted static. "Confirmed SS-Rank! Registered Mana: F-Rank!"

The arena went dead silent.

Drake stumbled backward, pale with shock as he stared at the crack splitting the enchanted monolith in half.

Evren slipped his hand into his coat pocket, gave Drake a friendly nod, and turned toward the stairs. "My turn is done," he said smoothly. "I hope the needle moved enough for you."