Osman grabbed the shaft of Tilda's axe with his right, then using his left, he grabbed the side of her coat.
"RAA!" He roared while flexing his arm muscles before hurtling her toward the ground.
"Ngh!" Tilda gritted her teeth and imdiately let go of her axe. She grabbed Osman's left hand with her right, then shifted her body to wrap her legs around his waist. A light yellow magic array circled her right arm as she hooked it around his neck.
"I'm not afraid of your flas, you assh*le!" She growled before utilizing her Augntation magic to increase her muscle mass and body size.
The sudden increase in Tilda's weight and size made Osman lose his balance and start falling forward.
"B*tch!" He roared. In an instant, the flas in his body increased, engulfing Tilda.
However, Tilda only sneered as her body further increased in size.
BAM!
Cracks ford on the ground as the two crashed.
Tilda pushed Osman's body upward, and in an instant, their position switched. Osman now lay flat on the ground with Tilda sitting atop him.
Osman's head hit the ground with a loud thud, muddling his senses for a few seconds. And that short vulnerability was enough for Tilda to launch her attack.
Tilda summoned two light yellow magic arrays, which ford around her wrists. She straightened her back, and using her oversized fists; she started to pound Osman's face.
Right cheek! Left cheek! Nosebridge! Right temples! Left Temples!
"Gah! Gah! Argh!" Osman scread in pain as Tilda's fists rained down on him. He raised his arms to block her attack, but to no avail. Her huge fists slamd relentlessly on his forearms, and he could barely keep up his physical defences.
Dull sounds of flesh hitting flesh resounded within the arena.
Seconds passed, and Tilda's clothes started to burn. She knew then that her ti was up.
Going back a few seconds...
After Kyran told them he had a plan, he asked Tilda to attack Osman as recklessly as possible. When she asked why he answered:
"When I say I want you to forfeit, I did not an you do it as soon as the match started. If that happens, they will adjust their plan again. Let's avoid that. But if you attack Osman recklessly, they will only think your recklessness is because of what he had done to Deo."
Tilda first reasoned that she could not get too close to Osman because he could wrap his whole body in flas. Apart from this, the way he burned Deo ant his flas were of a high level.
Kyran then perford a quick enchantnt on her clothes to ensure she would be protected from his flas. However, with his materials on hand, he could only make a temporary one, which would automatically be removed after being exposed to intense fire for a minute.
In any case, with that short ti, Kyran asked her to deal enough damage on Osman before pulling back and forfeiting. Then in the next round, Kyran would be the one to finish him off.
After hearing Kyran's plan, Tilda realized he ant for her to forfeit the whole competition, not just during her match with Osman.
Rake and Styx also realized this and felt it was for the best.
Tilda agreed.
Still.
That did not an she would not try to take Osman with her!
"RAWRGH!" Tilda roared as she pulled her right arm to add more montum and weight to her last punch.
But.
"Burn, you b*tch!"
Osman, who could barely defend himself from her punches, suddenly unleashed the full force of his magic level. His flas erupted and blew Tilda off him.
"Ngh— guh!"
Tilda crashed on the arena floor and rolled off a few ters, destroying the floor.
An intense heatwave from Osman's flas shook the arena. Gasps filled the gallery as they, too, felt the intensity of his flas even from afar.
From the side, Kyran's expression turned grim as he finally sensed Osman's magic level.
'Grand Master,' he thought and clenched his fists.
He turned to Styx and was about to ask him to surrender Tilda's match when a familiar female voice spoke from one of the exclusive booths again.
"Tilda of the Conclave resigns. Please stop the match."
The audience erupted with hushed discussions once more. Their reactions were reasonable. After all, this would be the third ti a participant resigns after their leader intervenes. However, compared to the previous matches, the match right now has barely started.
"Sixth match, Royal Army wins!" The female announcer declared, stopping the tir at once. "The next match will begin in 30 seconds!"
Rake rushed to the arena to check on Tilda. He worried because she remained on the ground after being thrown by Osman's aura.
On the other hand, Osman was still looking at the spot where Tilda had fallen. His face was swollen, and blood trickled down the side of his face, nose, and mouth. He was breathing heavily, and his expression showed he was not satisfied that his match ended like that.
"It's fine, Osman. Get back here."
Kairo's voice sohow snapped Osman out of his angered state. Reluctantly, he left the arena.
"Tilda!" Rake knelt beside Tilda.
Tilda groaned as Rake helped her up. Her body had returned to its normal size. However, her clothes and skin were scorched black.
Two mbers of the Conclave rushed to the arena.
"We'll take it from here," one of them said, taking the half-dazed Tilda with them.
Rake could only nod and watch as the three left. He returned to their corner and found Kyran and Styx with grim expressions.
"You sensed it, too?" Styx asked.
Kyran only replied with a nod.
Rake knew what Styx ant. His magic sense might not be powerful, but he knew sothing was off from Osman's magic aura.
"A f*cking Grand Master," Styx said through gritted teeth.
Just when Rake thought Styx would begin to say sothing about how unfair or bad their odds were, a smile appeared on the latter's face.
"Good. It makes it all worthwhile to kill him."
Rake looked at Styx blankly, "If you kill them, you'll be disqualified."
"I don't f*cking care. He has now moved up my list of—."
"Leader Styx," Kyran cut him midsentence. "He's my next prey."
"What?" Styx growled as he glared at Kyran beside him.
Kyran looked at him with a wry smile, "After my next match. He's the next one."
Rake sighed inwardly while shaking his head. He sat beside Kyran and said, "You two, seriously. This is still a competition. If you want to kill them, do so after."
Styx burst out in laughter, "F*ck, right. I'll do that if you don't, Tyr."
This ti, Kyran did not respond. He only replied with a slight smile.
"Participants for the seventh match, Tyr of the Conclave against Royal Army's Major General Ganza!"
As soon as Kyran's na was called, cheers erupted from the gallery. They had heard about him from the Lumley Family's incident and had been curious ever since.
After witnessing Kyrans's last match, several of the audience looked forward to his next one. Who wouldn't? He was a Master mage, yet he beat a High Master. Such a feat was rare among matches between mages. The reason was obvious, a mage with a higher level had more experience and was far more adept in using their innate magic. But not only did he win against a higher-level mage, but he did so while using Array and his support-type magic.
Kyran stood up and went to the arena. He still wore an indifferent expression, but his eyes glinted malevolently as he looked at Ganza. This guy started everything.
Ganza, who was walking toward the arena, was also looking at Kyran with a smile on his face. When they first heard that Disciple Tyr was among the Solo Competition participants, they did not care much. That was why they let Vanadin, their weakest mber, handle him.
Their decision was reasonable. Tyr was a low-level mage. And instead of wasting their ti on him, it was better to focus on the other four.
Ganza was given the task of taking out Tilda. Honestly, he did not like being paired with a woman. He only agreed, thinking he would get an easy win. At least, it brought him closer to his goal of having his own division.
Tyr was also an easy target, but he would not degrade himself in fighting soone with a low mage level. Who would have thought that Tyr could actually put up a better fight than Tilda?
At least, that was how Ganza saw it. Especially on how Tyr dealt with Vanadin. The forr did not move from his spot when he bombarded the latter with attacks. Because of this, he found Tilda, the Conclave's weakest mber.
Ganza did not care about what happened to Vanadin, so he would not fight to avenge the latter. Instead, he would make sure to have fun playing with Tyr.
Kyran and Ganza stood in the middle of the arena, and the tir above restarted.
"Seventh match, start!"
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