Chapter 45: Easy win
The descending arc of Orion’s polearm cut through the atmosphere with a deafening, high-pitched shriek.
The azure wind mana encasing the single-edged blade had condensed into a localized vortex, a shimmering Gale capable of shearing through solid granite blocks.
To the thousands of spectators leaning over the heartwood tiers, the trajectory was final. The human had stopped moving, trapped beneath the shadow of a legendary vanguard’s ultimate executioner strike.
But the clumsy, staggered posture Vince had maintained throughout the sequence evaporated in a single millisecond.
THOOM!!!
The collision did not produce the clean, flesh-cleaving sound the stadium had anticipated. Instead, a seismic shockwave erupted from the point of impact, violently blasting the surrounding arena sand outward in a massive, blinding ring of white dust. The ground beneath Vince’s leather boots instantly fractured, spider-webbing into deep fissures under the sheer kinetic load.
Yet, Vince had not moved a single inch.
He stood perfectly upright, his left hand casually tucked into his pocket while his right arm held the heavy iron broadsword aloft at a precise diagonal angle. The flat of his unrefined, un-enchanted blade had met the crushing weight of Orion’s mana-reinforced polearm with a flawless, dead-stop parry. The sheer physical density of Vince’s magicless baseline had absorbed the entire impact, rendering the azure wind vortex completely useless against his raw skeletal leverage.
Orion hovered slightly in the air, his arms trembling violently as he pressed down against the iron broadsword. His brilliant blue eyes were stretched wide, staring down through the settling dust at the face of the human.
Beneath the shadow of his messy dark hair, Vince was smiling. It was a cold, predatory expression that caused a sudden, instinctual chill to crawl straight down the elven warrior’s spine.
"Your center of gravity is entirely front-loaded when you channel through the upper torso"
Vince remarked, his voice a perfectly calm, low deadpan that carried easily through the shock-silenced sand.
"Thanks for the demonstration."
Before Orion’s mind could fully process the tactical critique, Vince’s right shoulder twitched. With a sudden, explosive burst of raw physical strength, he snapped his broadsword upward, executing a brutal, single-handed redirection.
The sheer force of the casual flick sent Orion flying backward through the air, his massive polearm violently wrenched from its trajectory as his boots skidded heavily across the sand for ten paces. The vanguard immediately dropped into a defensive stance, his breath catching in his throat as his chest plate rattled from the residual vibration of the block.
Up in the royal box, the floating amber dais seemed to turn exceptionally cold.
The Queen’s hand slowly drifted away from her chin, her deep amber eyes narrowing to absolute slits as she stared down at the lower sands. Her exceptionally voluptuous silhouette remained rigid against the carved amber throne, but internally, a rare, volatile spark of genuine bewilderment flared within her mind.
He deflected a fully reinforced Gale Slash... with a single, un-enchanted arm?
She thought, her analytical calculations grinding to a sudden, highly uncomfortable halt.
There was no mana trace. No elemental distortion. It was a pure, anomalous display of biological dominance that flatly defied the established laws of the First Canopy. Beside her, the hooded female figure shifted slightly, her hidden gaze locking onto Vince with an intense, concentrated focus, while Elder Everwood’s low, genuine chuckle rippled quietly through the private box.
He blocked without using mana
Orion thought
Down on the sands, Orion’s face had flushed a dangerous, humiliated crimson. The roaring adulation of the thousands of elven spectators had died out completely, replaced by a heavy, suffocating murmuring that rippled through the heartwood benches.
"Human parasite!"
Orion roared, his pride entirely fracturing as his midnight-blue vanguard armor began to bleed an absolute torrent of bright azure mana.
"You are nothing but a trickster! A magicless freak! Die under the weight of the Canopy!"
Orion vanished again, converting his entire internal reservoir into raw, high-speed kinetic propulsion. He materialized in front of Vince like a streak of blue lightning, unleashing a catastrophic, five-hit thrusts of furry and sweeps meant to completely liquefy Vince’s internal organs.
But the simulation was already over.
Vince didn’t retreat a single step. Utilizing the fully optimized parameters of the Elven Lineage Adaptation, his purple eyes tracked every single micro-movement of Orion’s muscles before the strikes even materialized.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Vince moved like a phantom, his heavy iron sword dancing in short, minimal arcs that effortlessly batted away the glowing polearm. It wasn’t just a defense; it was a comprehensive humiliation. He parried the first thrust, stepped inside the guard of the second sweep, and delivered a brutal, short-range elbow directly into the center of Orion’s midnight-blue helmet.
CRACK.
The reinforced elven steel fractured instantly. Orion stumbled backward, his vision spinning violently as blood began to leak from his nose beneath the visor.
Vince didn’t give him room to breathe. He closed the distance in a fraction of a second, his movements carrying a terrifying fluid grace that looked more elven than the pure-bloods sitting in the stands. He swung the flat side of his broadsword like a baseball bat, shattering Orion’s left shoulder guard into flying metallic shards, followed by a sweeping low kick that completely swept the veteran warrior off his feet.
Orion hit the sand hard, his massive polearm clattering away across the arena floor.
Before the elven vanguard could even attempt to push himself back up, the heavy, unrefined iron blade of Vince’s broadsword descended, stopping exactly one millimeter away from the soft flesh of his exposed throat.
At the same time, Vince planted his heavy leather boot squarely onto the center of Orion’s fractured chest plate, pinning him to the sand like a specimen in a collection box.
"Match,"
Vince said softly, looking down at the gasping, bleeding elite warrior with a complete lack of emotion.
The grand colosseum fell into an absolute, dumbfounded silence. Thousands of pure-blooded nobles and high-ranking elders sat frozen in their seats, their faces completely pale, their mouths slightly agape. The absolute best the colosseum had to offer, a legendary vanguard who had fought a hundred skirmishes, had been utterly and completely pocketed by a magicless human using a piece of scrap metal.
Vince raised his head, his purple eyes cutting through the heavy silence of the colosseum as he looked directly up at the royal box, locking eyes with the stunning, silent monarch.
The Queen slowly rose from her amber throne, her towering, exceptionally busty frame and full, sweeping hips projecting a terrifying, regal gravity that demanded order without her uttering a single word. She looked down at the human standing victoriously over her elite champion.
He did not just win,
The Queen thought to herself, her cold features remaining completely stoic even as her heart rate maintained an uncharacteristic spike.
He deliberately delayed the conclusion to adapt to Orion’s kinetic sequence. He used my Orion as a live training dummy.
"The Lex Talionis has spoken,"
The Queen’s angelic voice resonated across the silent colosseum, carrying a freezing, unyielding authority.
"The death penalty issued by this court is officially nullified under the ancient cords of the First Accord. Human, you have earned your immunity. The gates of the provincial border are open to you. Leave our sovereign territory immediately."
Vince didn’t move his boot from Orion’s chest. He simply kept his blade resting against the vanguard’s throat, his grin widening slightly as he looked straight at the Queen.
"What’s the rush,"
Vince stated flatly, his voice carrying clearly to every corner of the stunned arena.
A collective gasp echoed through the heartwood benches. The nobles looked as if they were about to have an absolute stroke. A human had just flatly refused a direct command from the Sovereign Queen after defeating her champion.
"What did you say, vermin?"
The arrogant elder from the courtroom yelled from the lower tiers, his hands shaking with absolute rage.
Vince completely ignored the elder, his purple eyes fixed solely on the Queen’s unreadable expression.
"I have no intention of leaving,"
Vince spoke clearly, his deadpan voice completely unbothered by the hostility of the crowd.
"I already told you, the Dread Commanders are hunting me, and they have crossed your borders. Stepping out of your capital right now would not salvage the situation. Therefore, I formally decline your invitation to leave."
The Queen’s amber eyes flared with a sudden, dangerous intensity.
"You dare defy my authority?"
She asked softly, the ambient mana around the royal box humming like a localized hornet’s nest.
"Not at all,"
Vince replied smoothly, finally lifting his boot from Orion’s chest and tossing the heavy iron broadsword carelessly into the sand. He held out his bare hands toward the royal paladins who were cautiously approaching him with trembling halberds.
"The law says I can’t be executed. It doesn’t say I can’t be detained. So, do me a favor and throw me into your highest-security prison cell. That’ll be perfect"
Everwood’s dark smile broadened to its absolute limits as he watched the human practically volunteer for a cage. Beside him, the Queen stood entirely silent, her mind racing to calculate the long-term game this magicless anomaly was playing. He wasn’t acting like a prisoner; he was acting like a man who had already mapped out the entire board, waiting for the pieces to fall exactly where he wanted them.
"Guards,"
The Queen commanded, her voice dropping into a register of freezing, absolute finality.
"Lock him in the deep root isolation cells. If he wishes to rot in the dark, let him."
Vince offered a small, mocking bow toward the royal box as the paladins roughly grabbed his arms, leading him back toward the dark subterranean tunnels. As the heavy iron gates slammed shut behind him, his purple eyes flashed with a deep, calculating satisfaction.
The stage was perfectly set. Now, all he had to do was wait for the storm to arrive.
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