Sign-In System: Starting With Invincible Physique

Chapter 212: Chapter 212: Shattered Delusions

Chapter 212: Shattered Delusions

"Winner: Rhain Voss! Advancing to the Top 12!"

Octavius’s booming voice thundered across the plaza.

Vanya froze.

Her raised hand hung in the air, her triumphant smile still stretched across her face.

But the words that had just entered her ears made absolutely no sense.

She slowly turned her head toward the elevated stage where High Preceptor Octavius stood, his fierce eyes looking down at her with an expression of pitu.

"W-Why?" Vanya stammered, turning her head toward Octavius with a look of pure confusion. "I pushed him out! I won!"

Octavius repeated again, "Because you have been eliminated, Vanya."

Vanya’s mind buzzed.

She spun around to look at the arena — and the blood drained from her face.

Rhain was standing there.

In the exact same position he had occupied at the very start of the match.

He hadn’t moved a single inch.

Trembling, Vanya slowly lowered her head to look at her own feet.

She was standing outside the arena boundary line.

She had stepped out of bounds.

"No..." Vanya’s voice trembled. "No, that’s impossible. I hit him. I saw him fly out of the ring. I..."

Vanya trailed off as she finally felt the strange, bewildered eyes of a hundred thousand spectators boring into her.

From the perspective of the millions of ordinary citizens and lower-tier disciples watching, the match they had witnessed was one of the most bizarre and baffling spectacles in the history of the Inner Palace Contest.

Vanya had erupted into action the instant the match started, and she had immediately launched forward with her short blades drawn.

But she was attacking empty air.

She dodged invisible counterattacks that didn’t exist, weaving and rolling across the arena floor with intense focus, all while her opponent Rhain stood perfectly still at the center of the ring, his arms casually folded across his chest.

Finally, Vanya had backed herself to the very edge of the boundary, let out a triumphant shout, launched a devastating palm strike into the empty air, and proudly stepped right out of the arena.

She had eliminated herself.

The ordinary crowd couldn’t understand what had happened.

They simply thought Vanya had suffered a sudden essence deviation or gone completely mad.

But up on the grand stage, the sharp eyes of the true titans knew exactly what had transpired.

"Phantasmal Dreamscape," Matriarch Seraphine murmured, her voice carrying a profound shock that she couldn’t hide anymore. "He used the exact same illusion art. And once again... at the absolute perfection stage."

Patriarch Caelan’s calculating eyes had gone wide. "When Vanya deployed her illusion field, he simultaneously deployed the identical technique. But the density of his soul power was so overwhelmingly superior that his version completely subsumed hers. She never stood a chance. The moment she activated her art, she was already trapped."

The High Preceptors, Patriarchs, all of them were wearing the same stupified expression.

When Vanya had attempted to trap Rhain, his staggering, ocean-like Soul Power had instantly overwhelmed hers.

In the span of a microsecond, he had perfectly mirrored her Epic-Grade art and reflected it back, trapping her inside her own illusion.

He forced her mind to believe that she was the one cornering him, while in reality, she was willingly walking herself out of the arena.

This was the third time.

Gale Mirage Stride. Thousand Ripple Piercing Lance. Phantasmal Dreamscape.

Three completely different Epic-Grade martial arts, spanning movement, physical attack, and spiritual illusion.

All of them executed to utter perfection.

A horrifying realization began to dawn upon them.

’He hasn’t even begun to show his true depth,’ Patriarch Thorian thought. ’There are definitely more Epic-Grade arts he hasn’t used yet.’

Lyra’s crimson eyes burning right now. The competitive fire that had been smoldering since Seris’s grand entrance now blazed into a full inferno.

Three perfect arts. She herself had only perfected three in her entire nineteen years of relentless training.

And she had been praised as the greatest talent of her generation for that achievement.

Down near the arena, Octavius looked at the trembling girl outside the ring.

"You were trapped in his illusion, Vanya," Octavius stated bluntly, shattering whatever delusions she had left.

Vanya staggered, almost collapsing onto her knees.

She had realized it the moment the words left Octavius’s mouth, but her mind simply refused to process it.

She was the unsurpassed illusionist of her generation!

Her illusions were so potent that even early-stage Core Formation Realm experts frequently fell for them.

How could someone simply casually trap her in her own domain?

She looked up desperately toward the center of the ring, wanting to demand an answer.

But Rhain had already turned away.

Without sparing her a backward glance, he stepped off the arena floor and walked calmly back toward the Gold Badge section, his dark robes swaying gently behind him.

The matches continued.

Several close, grueling battles erupted between the veteran Gold Badge disciples, each one fighting desperately to secure their place in the Top 12.

Blood was spilled, bones were broken, and more than one combatant had to be carried out on a stretcher.

When the dust finally settled, the twelve survivors stood on the arena floor.

"The Top 12 have been decided!" Octavius announced. "There will now be a thirty-minute intermission! All competitors are to recover their essence and tend to their injuries! Phase Three will commence immediately after!"

Immediately, teams of medical attendants rushed onto the arena floor, administering high-grade healing salves and rare elixirs to the bruised and battered geniuses.

In the Gold Badge section, the atmosphere had deteriorated into something resembling a funeral wake.

The remaining elite disciples who hadn’t yet faced Rhain huddled together, furiously whispering and strategizing.

But despite their intense discussions, a dark cloud of inevitability hung over them. Most of them had already accepted deep down that if they drew Rhain’s name, their defeat was absolute.

Amidst this heavy tension, Rhain sat calmly in his seat, resting his chin on his hand.

"Rhain!"

An eager voice broke his peace.

Neve threw herself into the empty seat beside him, her eyes sparkling with unconcealed awe as if she was looking at role model.

"I take back everything I said earlier!" Neve babbled, leaning in far too close. "I never expected you to be this ridiculously strong! Trapping Vanya in her own illusion? That was brilliant! Hey, tell me, how many more perfect Epic-Grade arts are you hiding? Do you have any fire-based combat art? Can you teach me—"

Rhain flatly ignored her, not even bothering to shift his dark grey eyes from the empty arena.

Neve continued to pester him, completely immune to his cold shoulder, when suddenly, the murmurs around the Gold Badge section abruptly died down.

Rhain’s dark grey eyes flickered slightly.

He looked up.

A figure had just leaped gracefully down from the elevated grand stage, landing lightly on the stone tiles of the contestant area.

The disciples who had been whispering frantically fell silent.

Neve’s mouth snapped shut.

Every head turned toward the figure approaching from the direction of the grand stage.

She wore flowing crimson robes, with a devastatingly beautiful face, and her piercing crimson eyes locked entirely onto Rhain’s direction.

Lyra Emberford!