Agnes stood ready in the arena, his skin smeared in red magic paint. But today, something was different. On his fists, he wore gloves that resembled boxing gloves—an odd sight in a world of cultivation and magic.
Yappa squinted his eyes. "What is that? Are those… boxing gloves?"
Urika leaned forward in disbelief. "Who brings boxing gloves to a cultivation battle?!"
Agnes shuffled forward like a street fighter, then burst into a sprint toward Mr. East.
Mr. East smirked and shouted, "Rock Bullets!"
Several magic circles materialized around him, launching sharp-edged rocks toward Agnes.
Elder Maywin gasped, "This child is casting without incantations!"
But Agnes weaved through them effortlessly—ducking, dodging, slipping past like a boxer with decades of ring experience.
Urika slapped the commentary desk. "He's dodging likehe can see the future! Is this… actual footwork?!"
Mr. East leapt backward, gaining distance—and then jumped a full 20 feet into the air.
"Heavenly Golden Palm!" he shouted.
The entire arena went silent as a massive golden hand shimmered above them.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
Yappa screamed, "Did everyone see that?! That's a martial cultivator's technique—but Mr. East is from a renowned magic sect! How did he learn it?"
An Elder muttered, "Unprecedented. That's a smaller version of the signature move of the Heavenly Fist Sect!"
The golden palm slammed toward the ring.
A giant golden palm, nearly the size of the entire arena, slammed down toward Agnes. He evaded it using a mobility technique, sprinting to the edge of the ring.
"God… I almost died," Agnes muttered, catching his breath. "This kid is seriously unpredictable… but still…"
As the crowd buzzed, Agnes fiddled with something inside his shoes and then began running at blinding speed in circles using his mobility technique.
From above, Mr. East hovered gracefully using wind magic—Sky Walker.
"Here comes the aerial bombardment!" Yappa cried. "He's spamming fireballs and rock bullets like he's playing Magical Siege Simulator!"
The audience erupted into nervous laughter as Agnes darted left and right to avoid the projectiles. To the audience, Mr. East's victory seemed inevitable.
"But wait!" Urika pointed at the screens. "Agnes is doing something strange with his shoes again!"
Agnes leapt toward Mr. East, aiming a punch—but Mr. East, floating easily, dodged.
Agnes landed, frustrated, and threw off his gloves. He grabbed some of the rocks lying scattered—remnants of Mr. East's earlier spells.
As he ran, he wiped something from the sole of his shoes and smeared it onto the rocks. Mysterious magic circles flared to life as he hurled the stones at Mr. East.
A faint glow, then—pop! Magic circles formed on the rocks.
"He's enchanting rocks with his soles?!" an Elder exclaimed, almost dropping his orange juice.
"Now, he is doing parkour!" Yappa screamed. "This is pure madness!"
Agnes hurled the stones at Mr. East. They missed. Mr. East laughed midair.
Then—BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Explosions rocked the air behind him, tossing Mr. East like a ragdoll.
The audience gasped.
Agnes grinned. "Got you."
In his mind, he analyzed: His opponent's defense was weak. Offense, speed, magic, and even cultivation—superior. But in close-range combat? That was his flaw.
"He used the Qi-punch principle to throw the rock," Urika gasped, clutching the edge of her seat, "but how did they explode?!"
An elder in dark blue robes stroked his beard and answered calmly, "It seems he's using some kind of liquid infused with the volatile properties of mana stones—likely smeared onto the rocks during the chaos. A crude, yet ingenious form of alchemical enchantment."
Another elder nearby squinted. "To think a mere Disciple level could weaponize raw Qi and alchemy like this…"
Yappa, still processing, muttered into his crystal mic, "So you're telling me this kid made landmines mid-battle... while running?"
Back to the fight...
Mr. East lunged at him, now fighting hand-to-hand.
Agnes chuckled. "You wanna box now?"
He raised his fists and slipped into a boxing stance.
Cheers and confused murmurs filled the crowd.
"What is this fighting style?" asked an Elder.
"Primitive, yet… elegant," another whispered.
Agnes ducked, rolled, and jabbed. Hooks and uppercuts landed in vital spots. Mr. East landed a few good hits too—but Agnes endured them with his weirdly high durability.
Yappa stood up, shouting into the mic, "He's fighting like a war-hardened alley dog! This is amazing!"
Mr. East staggered backward, clearly rattled.
He shouted again, "Heavenly Golden Palm!"
This time, the palm connected.
Agnes was flung across the arena and smashed into the wall.
Half the arena was filled with dust.
Yappa sighed. "Urika… I think it's over."
"Wait! Look! Red is still standing!" Urika suprised, pointing at the monitors.
From the cloud of dust, a twitch—then movement—then Agnes emerged, limping, bruised, clothes torn, but still walking.
"He's still standing!" Urika roared. "The madman is still standing!"
Mr. East blinked. "Still standing, Mr. Red?"
Agnes scoffed. "You think that slap could take me out?"
Mr. East growled. "Then… take this. My final attack."
He drew a dagger from his belt and plunged it into his own wrist. Blood dripped to the ground.
Audience members screamed.
"What is he doing?!" someone grabbed their head and cried.
"He's going too far!" an Elder shouted.
Mr. East muttered weakly, "Ancient Magic: The White Judge of Hollow Jade."
From thin air, a divine spirit appeared—a beautiful, blindfolded woman with white skin and hair, wrapped in scrolls and silver chains, her six ghostly arms each holding a sacred object: bell, fan, seal, quill, chain, and mirror.
The crowd went dead silent.
Yappa's voice trembled. "Is this… summoning magic?!"
One Elder gasped. "This isn't ordinary summoning. That dagger didn't summon her—it merely sent the invitation. So technically, it's a silver tier item so, no rules have been broken."
Another Elder added, "This is just her projection… a form made of pure Qi. Her real body? We mortals couldn't comprehend it. She's one of the true gods."
"She's here willingly," a third whispered. "We're witnessing history."
Agnes overheard them and grinned. "He just dug his own grave."
The White Judge raised her hand, ready to seal Agnes's soul.
Agnes screamed, "Cast!"
A brilliant crimson light pulsed beneath his feet.
In an instant, a massive glowing magic circle surged to life—spanning the entire arena—etched into the very stone by trails of shimmering glowing liquid.
Yappa nearly dropped his mic-crystal. "W-What the hell is that?! That wasn't there a second ago!"
Urika's voice cracked with awe. "Was he… drawing that circle the whole time?! While dodging spells?!"
In the elder's booth, one of the Archmages stood abruptly, eyes wide shouted "That's no ordinary fire spell… Someone pause the battle projection and project the image of the magic circle. Study the lines—quickly!"
A junior elder tapped a rune-crystal and the magic circle was projected mid-air above them.
Another elder leaned in. "Those lines… they're not just painted—they're alchemically etched. That liquid is a colorless paint, it's a mana-conductive solution. Every drop laid with precision. He drew the whole formation while running."
A white-haired elder squinted. "But that's impossible! The circle's complexity rivals Sage-tier rituals. How can a Disciple…"
A voice from the side added with urgency, "Look at the center! The Goddess's projection—The White Judge—is standing dead in the middle of it. That circle wasn't just for fire magic—it was designed to feed off her Qi!"
"What?!" gasped Urika. "He's using the Goddess as a power source?!"
"Not her directly," the Archmage corrected. "But the Qi forming her projection. It's siphoning her essence as fuel!"
A robed elder in green muttered gravely, "But standard fire formations can't absorb that much Qi. This formation—look at the layering. The sigils are stacked like recursive loops… They don't stop absorbing!"
Someone else whispered, "This formation has… no upper limit?"
"Where did he learn this?" a nervous voice came from the back of the crowd.
Yappa was on the verge of a breakdown. "You're saying Red turned the arena into a damn spiritual furnace?!"
Urika whispered, "That means… the fire spell he's about to unleash…"
The entire coliseum fell into a tense, awestruck silence, the only sound being the pulsing hum of the overcharged circle.
Then the ground cracked.
And the fire rose.
Agnes yelled, "Fireball!"
Urika screamed, "NO! NOT FROM INSIDE!"
A pillar of fire burst from the center of the arena. The ground cracked. Stones melted.
Spectators screamed and ran as the very air distorted from the heat.
"Open the upper area of the barrier dome!" shouted tournament officials. "Vent the flames now!"
Mr. East's sect members teleported him away instantly.