"What is this......"
"That amount of magical power......"
Both commentators on the commentary desk wore looks of astonishment.
"Unbelievable! The tide of the battle shifted in the blink of an eye! Volk’s attack was completely overwhelmed by Hulim! Could it be that, as our commentators suggested, the gap between the two contestants is truly visible to the naked eye?! Let’s now get our guests’ take on this!"
"Hmm......"
Radley paused to think before answering.
"As you can see, the power Hulim unleashed just now far surpasses Volk’s. But why didn’t she use this strength from the start? It might be some kind of burst technique, or perhaps she’s bound by certain limitations."
"I agree with Radley—Hulim’s strength is truly extraordinary," Lorelle added. "As a mage myself, I’m quite familiar with this aspect."
"You see, every mage has a limit to their maximum magical output. Typically, this limit is far lower than their total magical capacity.
However, as we continue to grow stronger, this maximum output also increases. Sometimes, judging a mage’s skill level simply boils down to measuring their maximum magical output."
"Even if Hulim did use a burst technique just now, there’s no denying that her maximum output exceeds Volk’s. Moreover, from my experience, this level of output is easily the pinnacle of Grade C!"
As Radley and Lorelle continued their analysis,
Hulim had already approached the fallen Volk.
"Cough...... Cough!"
Smoke curling off his charred body, Volk struggled to his feet, propping himself up with his spear.
Hulim stopped in her tracks, waiting calmly for him to steady himself before speaking in her usual emotionless tone:
"Not going to surrender?"
It was the exact same line Volk had used on Miko the previous day.
Volk froze for a split second, then realized the implication behind her words. Rage exploded within him instantly.
"Bastard——!"
"Don’t you dare look down on me——!!!"
Whoosh!
"What——?!"
Before he could act on his roar, Volk’s vision blurred suddenly. The Hulim who’d been standing in front of him had vanished without a trace.
"Where are you looking?"
Then, that familiar, indifferent voice sounded from his right.
Boom——!
In the next moment, Volk’s body was sent flying like a cannonball.
Even in the vast expanse of the main arena, he soared nearly half the length of the field before crashing heavily to the ground.
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He twitched violently, unable to get up for a long while.
Whoosh——!
While Volk’s mind was still muddled,
a figure appeared beside him in a flash.
"Not going to surrender?"
The flat, unemotional question grated on Volk’s ears like nails on a chalkboard.
"......Damn you...... Bastard...... I’ll kill you...... I swear I’ll kill you——!"
Volk’s eyes blazed with bloodshot fury. He trembled as he rose, clinging to his spear to keep from collapsing.
"I’ll kill you——!!!"
Boom——!
In an instant, another fireball slammed into his body, sending him flying once more.
Thud!
As soon as he hit the ground, Hulim appeared before him right after.
"Not going to surrender?"
"You...... You......"
Volk lifted his head shakily. The bloodlust in his eyes had faded slightly, replaced by a dawning realization of the insurmountable gap between them—and a growing sense of fear.
"I...... I surren——"
"Planning to surrender?"
Hulim cut him off in her cold, detached tone.
"......"
Volk stared blankly into her eyes.
Her arrogant, condescending stance, and those clear yet emotionless eyes that regarded him with the same indifference one might show a speck of dust—they felt like an endless abyss.
At that moment, something inside Volk snapped.
Was he...... really about to surrender?
To this person who looked down on him with such contempt?
In front of 100,000 spectators, leaving a permanent, indelible stain of shame on his life?
Since when had Volk ever endured such humiliation——!!
"Ah——!!!"
Volk let out a deafening roar at the sky. He drove his spear into the ground with all his might and forced himself to stand upright.
"That’s right. This is how it should be."
Hulim said flatly.
"Just like you said—taking my time with you."
"Don’t worry. I’ll hold back my strength the entire time......"
A red glow flickered to life at the tip of her wand once more.
"Ah!!! Die——!!!"
Volk grabbed his spear and charged straight at Hulim.
Boom!
In the next instant, he was sent flying again.
"Ah!!!"
But moments later, he dragged himself back up.
Hulim waved her wand once more.
Boom!
Volk was sent soaring through the air again.
Boom!
A third time.
Boom!
A fourth.
Boom! Boom! Boom......
Fifth, sixth, seventh......
The same scene repeated itself over and over in the arena: Volk was blown away, struggled to his feet, and was immediately blown away again......
"Uh...... Well, this is certainly an innovative fighting style from both contestants......"
George was at a loss for words, unsure how to comment on the bizarre spectacle.
It was obvious to everyone that Volk was being utterly dominated. The outcome of the match had long been decided.
Yet Hulim refused to finish him off, and Volk, driven to the brink of madness, stubbornly refused to concede defeat.
The situation had reached an awkward stalemate.
"Hmm...... There might be some bad blood between the two contestants. It’s quite common—surrendering to an enemy is something many would rather die than do......"
Radley attempted to offer a plausible explanation to the audience.
"U-Uh, exactly......" Lorelle added. "But with attacks of this intensity, Volk won’t be able to hold on much longer."
However, Lorelle was proven wrong almost immediately.
Five minutes passed,
and Volk was still being thrown around the arena.
Ten minutes passed,
and the beating continued.
Fifteen minutes passed!
He was still standing back up, only to be blown away again!
This endless cycle of punishment suddenly reminded many spectators of the excruciatingly slow matches dominated by a certain Dog Beastman......
Finally, just as the audience’s dissatisfaction was about to boil over, the sound of one-sided combat came to an abrupt halt.
Volk, lying in the center of the arena, didn’t get back up this time......
"I-Is it over?"
George reacted a beat too late.
Afraid that Volk might suddenly rise again, he rang the match-ending bell as quickly as he could.
Ding——!
The bell echoed throughout the entire Grand Arena.
At the sound, the audience let out a collective sigh of relief.
And so did Volk, presumably......
Medics rushed onto the field at once, lifting the nearly charred Volk onto a stretcher.
Two clerics followed closely behind, constantly casting healing magic.
"Wha......"
"What’s going on?"
The two clerics suddenly froze in surprise, halting their healing spells.
"What’s wrong?"
"Why did you stop? Hurry up and save him!"
The other medics urged them.
"......"
The two clerics exchanged a look, then reluctantly resumed their healing magic.
But no matter how hard they channeled their power, Volk’s wounds healed at less than a tenth of the normal rate.
No one knew—not even the clerics themselves—that
hidden beneath Volk’s visible injuries, a dark, sinister force lurked within his body.
This force not only blocked the effects of the healing magic but also gnawed away at his body from the inside out......
