Chapter 115: Chapter 112: I Am the Champion
In the arena, the sounds of fierce battle gradually died down.
Most of the surviving chanical Bodies had realized that sothing was very wrong with the situation in the arena.
Outside the arena, the audience was stunned by the Spider Slayer’s brilliant design.
The pillar of fire from the tracked chanical Body’s self-detonation, followed by the mantis-like chanical Body being ambushed and slain by a ghostly figure descending from the sky... Everyone on the viewing platforms had seen the entire sequence with perfect clarity.
"Is... is that really a chanical Body made by a new Advanced Apprentice? How in the world did he tune a generic Control Core to perform like that? It’s not logical."
One Advanced Apprentice was completely dumbfounded, muttering to himself.
Of the dozen or so remaining chanical Bodies, most of those that were aware of the Spider Slayer’s existence had ceased all activity.
They gave up on racking up points. They gave up on searching for opponents. They strictly executed the high-priority directive in their programming: when encountering an insurmountable opponent, self-preservation becos the primary mission!
For a ti, they all began to employ hide-and-seek tactics.
Behind the towering husks of buildings, in the depths of rubble-filled craters, even at the entrances to foul-slling sewers—all these places beca their treasured hiding spots.
Ranged-type chanical Bodies would be instantly killed up close after it teleported; lee-types would be picked off from a distance whenever it found an opening.
The entire ruined city underwent a drastic change in style, transforming from a chaotic battlefield into a massive ga of hide-and-seek.
And the lone hunter once again silently climbed to the high ground, looking down upon its hunting grounds.
In the shadows of a tall building, the Spider Slayer remained motionless, as if it had rged with the darkness.
Shadow Travel was on cooldown, but its Control Core was operating at high speed, pushing its intelligence to the absolute limit.
The tactical module, built with the help of DSeek, was integrating real-ti information from the entire battlefield:
The last known positions of all surviving chanical Bodies, building locations, usable paths...
An invisible net woven from data had already been cast over the entire arena.
The three-minute cooldown ended.
The killer in the shadows moved once more.
Its target was a chanical Body codenad "Warhamr."
This chanical Body specialized in defense and strength. It was currently hiding behind a thick, load-bearing wall, curled into a ball, trying to rely on its heavy armor to last until the end of the match.
The Spider Slayer did not choose to engage in close combat.
It silently circled around to the side of another building, its head-mounted sniper module extending.
PFFT.
A beam of ethereal blue light shot out, but its target wasn’t "Warhamr" itself. Instead, it struck the weak point on the joint of a massive crossbeam above it—a beam already eroded by battle and covered in cracks.
The joint snapped on impact, and the multi-ton crossbeam ca crashing down.
"Warhamr’s" creator could only watch helplessly as their chanical Body on the screen was buried under a cloud of dust and rubble.
It wasn’t destroyed, but it was pinned and unable to move, its combat capabilities neutralized.
The crowd on the viewing platforms hadn’t even had ti to gasp in amazent.
They just saw the black spider erge from the shadows, find an angle, and fire at the immobilized target—once, twice... continuously shooting the sa spot.
It was the most cold-blooded execution, a finishing blow delivered to a target that had lost all ability to resist.
On the Magic Light Curtain, "Warhamr’s" screen finally turned gray.
[Allen Wesren: 76 points → 96 points]
On the scoreboard, Allen’s na was already far in the lead, widening the gap with second place.
But the hunt was still on.
The Spider Slayer beca a grim reaper, using the architecture, the light and shadows, the smoke from explosions, and every single use of Shadow Travel as soon as it ca off cooldown.
Sotis it would pick off targets from the top of a high-rise; other tis it would lay an ambush in a narrow alley. Every appearance ant the elimination of another chanical Body.
On the scoreboard, Allen’s points climbed with a despair-inducing, steady rhythm, finally settling on a number that everyone could only gaze up at in awe.
[Allen Wesren — "Spider Slayer": 196 points]
"Ti’s up!"
"Ti’s up—!"
As the Alchemy Puppet host’s excited voice echoed through the venue, only five of the thirty-seven split screens on the Magic Light Curtain remained lit.
Two of them belonged to the chanical Bodies that had imdiately hidden in the most concealed corners the mont they sensed trouble, surviving by remaining completely motionless, relying on their thick armor or superior stealth coating.
Another two were individuals that the Spider Slayer had judged to be too risky to engage.
And the one ranked highest on the scoreboard was none other than Allen’s Spider Slayer!
It stood undamaged atop the ruins, its black paint reflecting a cold light in the afterglow of the setting sun.
The final tally showed it had destroyed a total of nine competing chanical Bodies.
"Ladies and gentlen! Let us congratulate the champion of this year’s Black Tower New Star Cup—Allen Wesren! And his chanical Body, the Spider Slayer!"
The host’s voice carried throughout the venue, and the viewing stands imdiately erupted in waves of applause and cheers.
The mbers of the mutual aid groups were so excited they were shouting themselves hoarse.
In the professors’ section, several of the instructors exchanged a few brief words before getting up and leaving one by one.
They had already seen what they ca to see.
Before leaving, rcer Iron Star’s gaze lingered for a mont on an inconspicuous corner of the contestants’ section.
A deep thought echoed directly in the minds of Victor and Allen. It was a ssage from Master rcer.
"Tomorrow morning, after your classes, co to my office."
The floating viewing platforms, carrying the still-excited spectators, slowly flew back to the academy square.
The crowd began to disperse, excitedly discussing the match they had just witnessed.
Victor Iron Fla walked down from the viewing platform alone.
A few of his friends wanted to co over and console him, but his expressionless face scared them away.
He ignored everyone else and walked directly toward the Black Tower.
His Molten Champion was second to none in terms of performance, yet it had been eliminated midway through the match, not even making the top ten.
This wasn’t a failure of performance, but a complete and utter tactical defeat.
As he passed by the giant Magic Light Curtain, he paused for a mont.
At the top of the curtain, the na "Allen Wesren" and that glaring score of 196 points were still displayed.
’Next ti... I absolutely will not lose again!’
He clenched his fists and continued walking forward.
Allen, anwhile, moved through the crowd. The effect of the Myriad Guise spell on his face had not yet faded, so no one noticed the champion’s true appearance.
He didn’t dispel the Witchcraft until he reached the financial office on the first floor of the Black Tower of the Forge.
Behind the counter, Barton was, for once, not sleeping. He was polishing his personal terminal.
Allen placed his identification card on the counter.
Barton raised his eyelids, glanced at Allen, then looked down at the competition results and prize distribution notice that had popped up on his terminal.
He was silent for a mont before pulling a potion box from under the counter and pushing it forward.
"Three vials of Spiritual Enhancent Potion. They’re yours."
Allen reached for them.
"Allen, kid," Barton spoke up.
Allen paused and looked at him.
"Your knack for cooking the books is even more insidious than that spider of yours."
Barton cracked a smile, one that was hard to read as either mockery or admiration.
He paused, as if lost in a mory, and then added, "But, no matter the era, rules are only ever ant to bind the honest."
"Well done."
His tone was complex, a mixture of praise and lant. "If I had known how to be that flexible back in my day, I wouldn’t have ended up in this situation."
Allen picked up the tal box, gave Barton a slight nod of acknowledgnt, and turned to leave.
After leaving the financial office, Allen opened the box. Inside were three crystal test tubes filled with a deep blue liquid. They refracted the light from the magical lamps in the hallway, casting a srizing, ethereal blue glow.
Reviews
All reviews (0)