Novel Full Chapter 738: Cover Blown
Chapter 738: Chapter 738: Cover Blown
A pulse of light swept across the controlled student.
And just like that, the suit’s glow dimmed completely.
Disconnected.
Bea’s split flinched.
Then hissed in frustration.
She’d hoped to keep him under the radar just a bit longer. But the connection was severed. And once that leader conveyed how she’d controlled Karson, they likely would all have a much stronger guard up.
So she did the next best thing.
She stopped pretending.
Controlled Karson blinked once, hard—then turned on the nearest Starfire contract and launched an attack.
Everyone froze.
Not a single person in the audience understood what was happening—until another attack followed. Then another. Karson was attacking his own team.
One of the Starfire students shouted in shock as they were forced to defend against their own ally. The spiritual creatures hesitated, confused. The suits struggled to compensate.
The crowd exploded in confusion.
“What’s going on down there?!”
“Is that… are they fighting each other?”
“I think—wait. Was he controlled this whole time?!”
The realization hit like a thunderclap. The announcers flipped back through the logs.
“Back during that delay—when their defenses failed…”
“Right after Queen’s swarm hit!”
“It wasn’t just a lack of team practice and coordination unbefitting Starfire College. Kain must’ve had control of Karson from way earlier than we thought!”
The cameras zoomed in on Kain.
He didn’t react. Just stood calmly with his hands in his pockets.
The same could not be said for the Starfire side.
With one of their own out of commission and now actively sabotaging them, the remaining students were forced to draw heavily on their individual armour’s capabilities to compensate. The shared resonance network remained technically intact—but the harmony was gone.
And worse, they were injured. Exhausted. Disoriented.
Every action now had a cost.
Deflecting a Vespid guard’s strike left one tamer open to Serena’s Elemental Guardian. Countering the blows of one of Kairos’ cursed constructs meant exposing themselves to Soren’s dragons’ blows immediately after.
The collapse wasn’t immediate.
But it was certain.
After another thirty seconds of struggle, the Starfire captain—face grim behind his cracked helmet—lifted one arm.
“We forfeit,” he said.
A moment later, the Starfire College Crest dimmed on the massive screen on their side of the arena as the referee declared Dark Moon the victors.
Match: Over.
Dark Moon College wins.
The crowd went silent for a heartbeat.
Then roared.
But Kain didn’t smile.
He glanced toward Karson—now kneeling as Bea released control, his eyes blank with confusion and shame.
Then he looked toward the captain.
And nodded.
The captain met his gaze, solemn and unsurprised. But not too upset that he’d controlled his friend, especially after confirming that Karson’s mind was returned completely intact.
——————–
VIP Booths, High Tier Observation Deck
“…That’s it. That’s the flaw.”
The words came from Commander Virell of the Third Royal Battalion, arms crossed as she watched the screens replay the critical moments of Starfire’s collapse. Like many other regional, provincial and royal-level commanders, these suits had piqued her interest. Her silver eyes flicked between slow-motion replays of Karson’s unresponsiveness and the resultant lag in armor sync.
“You’re sure?” asked the aide beside her, “Could it have just been mental interference? An unusually strong mental contract?”
Virell exhaled through her nose. “Yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Look.”
She pointed to the synchronized flare pattern on the Starfire team’s armor in the moments leading up to the collapse.
“Watch the sequence again. That flicker. When Karson launched a spiritual skill and two others were simultaneously defending.”
The aide did—and realization dawned.
Virell nodded. “The suits couldn’t handle simultaneous distribution across offense and defense.”
A pause. Then a quiet, dangerous observation:
“And if that flaw exists… then the tech isn’t complete. It’s still in field testing. It may not be ready in time for that, as we’d hoped.”
Another officer seated nearby leaned over. “But I thought the patents for the Starfire resonance suits were approved three months ago?”
Virell glanced over, arching a brow. “They were filed. But not finalized. And not under Starfire’s name.”
The words hit like a thunderclap among the VIPs.
“Then who—?”
“No idea,” Virell said, gaze sharpening. “But if they didn’t design it in-house, and if it’s not stable… then perhaps this tournament exhibition match was the inventor behind the scenes sending out a signal that they are looking to add, or even completely replace, their collaboration with Starfire. To bring in someone with the means they feel can perfect their work.”
The aide swallowed. “Then we…”
“Maybe. But we’ll certainly have stiff competition…” Virell finished softly while glancing around at some other higher-ups in the booth who were likely coming to the same realization.
———————
Medical Wing, Waiting Room – 10 Minutes Later
The room was quiet.
Not the comforting kind of quiet. The kind that settled after a warzone.
Kain sat alone, elbows on knees, leaning forward. His jacket hung over the back of a chair. His gaze flicked toward the hallway every so often, checking for signs of returning teammates.
Queen was in the room, healing her Vespid guards by personally coating their wounds with royal jelly infused with life attribute energy. Bea was still recovering her energy passively, invisible to all but him.
Serena, Soren, Kairos, and Dwayne’s contracts had gone to receive treatment. Nothing serious, just the typical post-match bruises.
Aegis and Bea had none. Barely even a scratch. Only the Vespid guards suffered some casualties.
Which was why he was sitting here alone and had the mental capacity to divert his attention to another one of his contracts…
“Chewy, stop.”
Prrrp?
The little spore rolled in circles on the coffee table in front of him, clearly pouting. It wiggled the tendrils on its body like a toddler throwing a tantrum, feet kicking indignantly at the air.
“You didn’t fight,” Kain said flatly. “You don’t get battlefield scraps.”
Chewy flopped onto his side and emitted what could only be described as a wheezy whine.
Kain resisted the urge to rub his temples.
“…Fine. One drop.”
He held out his hand.
The tip of his index finger began to glow faintly with a pale, violet sheen—Source energy.
Chewy’s eyes widened.
Before Kain could even blink, the spore squealed and latched onto his finger like a lamprey.
FffLLPP!
Kain winced. “Gentle—no, you little glutton—!”
But it was too late. Chewy happily sucked down the energy with a soft, satisfied bloop, letting out a small puff of light like a burp.
Kain shook his hand off and sighed. “You are an embarrassment to your species. Whatever that is.”
Then his gaze lifted.
And stopped.
There, at the doorway, stood Pheneos.
The Starfire technician still wore the same utility vest and fingerless gloves, though his face was cleaner now. His expression was unreadable as he approached the table.
In his hand, he held a small object.
It looked like a futuristic Rubik’s Cube—except its sides were etched with sigil-like inscriptions and constantly shifting segments. One of the six sides was now glowing faintly.
With violet light. Source energy.
Kain’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t look like something Starfire issued you.”
Pheneos didn’t smile. “It’s not.”
He placed the cube gently on the table between them.
“This side just lit up. About fifteen seconds ago with an unidentifiable energy that came from you,” Kain stiffened as Pheneos spoke. “Would you mind meeting with my teacher. I think you’d be interested in what he has to say.”