Chapter 764: Chapter 764: A Stop in Montum
“She’s just a second-year. What’s in the water over there at Dark Moon College?!”
The announcer’s incredulous voice echoed across the stadium, laced with both awe and disbelief.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy.
Cheers, gasps, and scattered applause thundered through the stands as Serena Storm’s na was declared the victor once more—this ti over Albrecht Velin.
On the Dark Moon College side, Professor Mires was no longer seated. He was on his feet. Actually, he was bouncing.
“HAHA! That’s my girl!” Mires howled, spinning in a circle like a child on too much sugar. “That was Albrecht Velin! The third strongest at First Celestial! She turned him into salad dressing!”
Kain blinked. “I don’t think that taphor makes sense.”
“Don’t care!” Mires clapped his hands, beaming like a madman. “She beat Damon and Albrecht. That’s two stronger contenders at First Celestial eliminated in exchange for only one Dark Moon person. And she’s a second-year!”
Professor Mires stared at the scoreboard, his expression slowly morphing into sothing euphoric. In his mind, a grand fantasy unfolded:
The Dark Moon College Chancellor was applauding wildly, flower petals rained from the sky, and he—Mires—stood atop a podium as roaring fans chanted his na.
“You’ve done it, Professor Mires!” the Vice Chancellor declared. “You’ve led Dark Moon College to national victory! As a reward, you shall be made Dean of the Beast-Taming Departnt!”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—” Mires began with faux humility.
But then she arrived. Miss Maribel, the Vice Chancellor’s famously elegant eldest daughter, dashed into his arms with tears sparkling in her eyes.
“I’ve loved you from afar for so long!” she cried. “You’re so handso! Those thick-frad glasses fra your twinkling black eyes, and your round belly reminds of the teddy bear I had as a child!”
“My darling!” Mires declared, twirling her dramatically.
“Professor.”
Mires blinked.
Kain was staring at him.
He coughed loudly. “Right. Yes. Back to work.”
A brief silence hung in the air, the energy of the previous mont slowly fading as reality returned to the room.
One that was both heavy with the weight of their task and the knowledge that the next two matches will be the hardest, but also a renewed optimism thanks to Serena’s performance.
Even Jade, typically stoic, looked montarily shaken. Not by concern. By hope.
Theo had won his first match but lost to Damon Hest. Serena had now taken out both Damon and Albrecht.
Three First Celestial mbers down. Only Isolde and Cassian remained.
Dark Moon had lost just one person—Theo. They still had Reed, Jade… and Kain. As well as Serena on the stage, of course.
Mires couldn’t contain himself. “If Serena can just soften up Isolde a bit… even just a little… then Reed or Jade could finish her off. That’s it. We might really win this thing!”
And those watching the match were also coming to that sa conclusion.
That Dark Moon, the underdogs, might end up beating the favourites First Celestial Academy.
The announcer, still recovering from the shock, muttered under his breath, “Is that even legal? Second-years aren’t supposed to be this overpowered.”
The other announcer though wasn’t convinced that Serena would be able to hold out much longer though.
Conversely, Mires was already pacing in small circles, believing that victory was just around the corner—largely due to his planning, of course. “Her Gift is bottomless spiritual power! The only limit is her ntal and physical stamina—this is textbook planning! She’ll push Isolde far enough that one of the others can clean her up without expending much energy! I knew using her was the right call. I am a tactical genius—”
He stopped.
At so point while he was fantasizing and patting himself on the back, the next match had already started…and ended by the sound of it.
The cheers had quieted completely.
Fans of both sides were silent in complete shock at what they’d just seen.
The big screens above the stadium showed Serena again—but this ti, she was not standing tall.
She was limp.
dics were carrying her from the stage.
Her limbs dangled slightly, one arm slung over a healer’s shoulder, while the other trailed limply at her side. Blood streaked the fabric of her training uniform, and soot blackened the right half of her body. Her expression was blank.
Not unconscious.
But close.
Kain’s expression tightened. He pushed forward through the sideline crowd, vaulting a small divider to et the dics halfway.
“Serena!”
Her head shifted faintly. Her lips parted, but no sound ca.
Kain didn’t wait. He placed his arm under hers and helped shoulder her weight.
“I’ve got her,” he told the dics, voice low.
They nodded and stepped back.
Together, they carefully walked her down from the arena. Balens had already been recalled.
Mires’ jubilation had vanished.
“…That bad?” he asked Kain, his voice subdued now.
Kain nodded slowly. “She pushed herself too far.”
Mires looked shaken. “But she held her own, right? At least for a bit—”
Kain’s jaw clenched. “She tried. But it was over too quickly.”
He looked up.
Isolde Blacheart was still on the stage.
Completely intact.
Her uniform was pristine. Her hair hadn’t moved. She looked like she’d barely broken a sweat.
Not even a bruise.
And her expression hadn’t even changed.
Calm. Cold. Controlled.
And seemingly full of energy.
Kain narrowed his eyes, feeling the familiar pulse from the small spore nestled invisibly near his core.
“Chewy,” he whispered. “Are they bluffing?”
A pulse of feedback. The tiniest whisper of sensation.
No.
Kain’s heart sank.
He turned to Mires. “She’s not bluffing like Damon was. Isolde and her contracts… still have most of their energy.”
Mires looked like he’d swallowed a fly at the revelation.
“That… can’t be right.”
Kain didn’t respond.
There was no denying it.
Even Balens hadn’t been enough.
Isolde Blacheart wasn’t like the others. The match had ended far too quickly for comfort. Based on what Kain had seen, it wasn’t just Serena’s exhaustion—sohow, Balens’ OP ability to grant wishes had been counteracted entirely. But not through the use of Source energy like when Kain had suppressed them during their own fight. He would have sensed that.
Whatever thod Isolde had used—it was different. And frightening.
Jade’s face darkened. The atmosphere among the team shifted palpably. Hope hadn’t been extinguished entirely, but it had been replaced by caution. Grim, heavy caution.
The dream of an easy win… had ended.
The announcer’s voice returned, sharper now, trying to recapture the atmosphere.
“The next match will begin shortly! Dark Moon College, please send your representative!”
Mires hesitated—just a beat.
Then he looked at Reed Venn.
Quiet. Unassuming. Easily overlooked.
The student no one ever seed to rember… but who had never once lost a match.
“Reed,” Mires said, his voice hoarse. “You’re up.”
Reed stood without a word.
He walked calmly toward the arena, his presence like a passing shadow.
And Kain—watching him go—felt sothing stir.
“…This will probably be the closest battle yet.”
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