Umar let out a long breath, the tension leaving his brow. “That guy… he’s earned the right to be arrogant. With this, we’ll pull in a mountain of resources.”
The reward was clear: only two fragnts of the Rock Spinal Cord existed, and they’d go to Yara and Axel. Beyond that, even the rest of the winning team would be granted resources worth nearly twenty million dollars. For soone like Umar, born with nothing, it was more than three years of earnings in one night.
On the other peaks, voices rose in confusion and awe.
“How the hell did Axel beat Terrence?”
“Why did Terrence go down like that?”
“Was it an awakening skill? Not a blade technique?”
“But isn’t Axel supposed to be a support type?”
The sixteen peaks buzzed with noise, speculation running wild.
Because Axel’s victory wasn’t just an upset. It was a miracle.
The so-called slouch at the bottom of the Intelligence Bureau’s list had just fought his way to the very end.
And no one could make sense of how.
Raymond and Sergio stood together, drawing curious looks from the students nearby.
“Sergio,” soone asked, “you’ve been saying Axel had a real shot. Care to explain?”
The crowd thickened imdiately. Everyone wanted to hear.
Sergio flicked open his folding fan with a practiced motion, eyes glinting. “Raymond… do you get it now?”
Raymond hesitated. Coming from the powerful McClellan family of Virelia, he wasn’t used to being put on the spot—especially by Sergio, a childhood friend with a tongue sharp enough to cut steel. But he finally nodded. “I figured it out when Terrence went down.”
Sergio’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You’ve grown. Much better than when you were a kid.”
Raymond felt a twinge of irritation but swallowed it. Sergio was always the clever one among them.
“Don’t keep us hanging, brother,” he muttered.
Around them, students shifted impatiently.
Sergio took a breath. “Fine. I’ll keep it short. What you just witnessed… was a textbook case of an underdog taking down soone stronger.”
A ripple of shock ran through the group.
A textbook battle? Coming from Sergio, that ant sothing. He was the one who’d devised the five-man ambush on Terrence earlier. And now he was praising Axel’s duel as a perfect David-versus-Goliath fight?
More students gathered, until almost everyone not unconscious—Axel and Terrence excluded—had crowded around Sergio.
“First thing,” Sergio said evenly, “Axel isn’t a support-type Awakener. His true Talent is All Things Simulation.”
Gasps broke out. All Things Simulation—one of the rarest known talents.
“And I can prove it. Besides the move that finished Terrence, there’s another detail—Axel’s so-called ‘sneak attack.’”
He lowered his fan slightly, his voice calm but carrying. The crowd quieted, hanging on every word.
“Rember when Terrence dodged Rook’s Thunder Blast with a space crystal? Axel used one too.”
Soone blurted out, “Wait—then why was he still wrecked? Didn’t he dodge too late?”
That question had been on everyone’s mind. If Axel had a space crystal, why was he bleeding out afterward?
Sergio shook his head. “Not too late. Deliberately late. He took part of the blast so he could see exactly where Terrence reappeared.”
The realization hit like a shockwave.
“You’re saying… Axel let himself get hit? Just so he could track Terrence?”
Sergio flicked his fan shut with a snap and nodded once.
“But… why didn’t Terrence notice him?” soone else asked, baffled.
“Because Axel used *Turtle Body*,” Sergio explained. “It’s not a support skill—it suppresses presence completely. Terrence never felt him coming.”
The audience exchanged uneasy looks. They’d all seen the strike, but no one had caught the setup.
“So the move that killed Terrence—another of Axel’s awakening skills?” one student muttered. “That burst was insane. Strong enough to one-shot him? What kind of ability is that?”
Sergio sighed softly. “That’s the point. Axel wasn’t fighting on impulse. He’s been setting this up for a long ti.”
He tapped his fan against his palm. “Think back. At the start, Terrence went all out. But then… suddenly he pulled back, didn’t he?”
The students nodded. Terrence had seed uncharacteristically cautious, dragging out the fight instead of pressing his usual reckless offense.
“That’s Terrence’s combat instinct,” Sergio continued. “Against most opponents, he can tank injuries without hesitation. But not against Axel. Because Axel’s strength doesn’t co from a single strike—it scales. The more tis he lands a hit, the more damage stacks up.”
The crowd froze, stunned.
“A skill like that exists?!”
Sergio pressed. “Axel was willing to take damage just to land blows—any blows, even tiny ones. And Terrence, realizing this, started burning his own stamina to avoid being touched at all.”
“And don’t forget,” Sergio added, “Axel even healed Terrence mid-fight—because for him, keeping the ga going ant more hits, more stacking damage.”
Minds reeled as the puzzle pieces snapped into place.
“So when Axel finally nicked Terrence at the end… even that little cut carried the weight of every strike before it,” soone whispered.
“Exactly,” Sergio said. “It looked irrational at the ti—but it was the most ruthless, decisive play possible.”
The gathered students exchanged glances. So were pale, others wide-eyed.
Because now, after Sergio’s breakdown, the fog of confusion had lifted.
What they had witnessed wasn’t luck. It was Axel, clawing victory from the jaws of death through brutal, calculated resolve.
“This guy’s terrifying.”
“Is he even really a student?”
As the murmurs spread, Sergio let out a quiet sigh. “Tch. Try thinking with those diocre brains of yours. Isn’t there sothing you’ve all missed?”
Faces flushed red, but no one had a retort. For a mont, no one could even figure out what he ant.
“What’s the problem, then?” soone asked.
Sergio scanned the crowd with faint exasperation. Only a handful—Raymond, Yara, Quincy—showed any flicker of realization. The rest looked blank, as if combat was still a classroom theory to them.
“Ask yourselves this,” Sergio pressed. “Why did Terrence rush into close combat right from the start? And later, why did he go so far as to injure himself just to squeeze out more speed—rather than simply keep his distance?”
Soone chuckled dismissively. “That’s obvious. Because Axel’s strike is fucking terrifying. He used it to one-shot Vaughn…” His voice trailed off mid-sentence.
Sergio’s gaze cut to him, sharp as a blade, before sweeping across the circle of students. “So tell —after thinking about it again, do you still believe Axel actually has that one-shot strike?”
The scene replayed in their minds like lightning: Vaughn, badly injured after the blow—but then erupting into those strange flas, the sa that later consud Terrence. And only afterward did Axel finish him.
Realization crashed over the group.
“Wait—Axel used the exact sa trick?!”
“That first strike was just to rattle Terrence when he appeared. What really killed Vaughn was the cumulative damage afterward!”
“And that fake display of power forced Terrence to panic. He closed the distance himself, thinking it was safer—and that let Axel stack hits on him from the start!”
“By the ti Terrence realized, it was already too fucking late.”
Sergio’s voice cut through the uproar. “Now you see Axel’s plan in full.”
Silence fell. The brightest talents in the War Academy felt their scalps prickle. From the mont Terrence had entered the field, Axel had already been setting the trap. Every one of Terrence’s decisions afterward had been forced by Axel’s hand.
When they looked at Axel’s unconscious form lying in the distance, their gazes had changed completely.
What kind of monster was this?
Every move calculated. Every strike dripping with killing intent.
“Terrence’s loss was deserved.”
“Shit, now I get why Rook was so shaken.”
“Axel is terrifying.”
“Scheming. Cold as hell. A total fucking snake.”
Sergio exhaled, tucking back the two loose strands of hair that had fallen over his face, and began walking slowly toward Axel. Curiosity gnawed at him. What kind of life shapes a student younger than into soone who fights like this?
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