Sign-In System: Starting With Invincible Physique

Chapter 213: Chapter 213: Challenge

Chapter 213: Challenge

The sudden movement from the elevated grand stage caught everyone off guard.

She was the undisputed number one prodigy of Stormveil City, a nineteen-year-old at the pinnacle of the ninth level of the Spirit Manifestation Realm.

She was an existence that the ordinary Inner Palace disciples could only look up to like a distant star in the night sky.

For her to voluntarily descend into the contestant area was something no one had anticipated.

The murmurs sweeping through the plaza momentarily stopped as tens of thousands of eyes tracked Lyra walking toward the contestant area.

Up on the grand stage, Seris’s pale purple eyes rippled slightly. Her serene gaze followed Lyra’s every step, her delicate eyebrows knitting together as she noticed the Lyra was walking directly toward her husband.

Lyra completely ignored the stunned stares of the hundreds of disciples she passed, her crimson eyes locked unwaveringly upon the dark-robed youth resting casually in his seat.

The Gold Badge disciples seated around Rhain scrambled to their feet, hastily bowing their heads and clearing a path for the approaching Matriarch’s daughter.

Neve, who had just been pestering Rhain with endless questions, snapped her mouth shut.

She stared at Lyra approaching them with an utterly dumbfounded expression.

Lyra stopped directly before Rhain.

Her crimson eyes, burning with an intense, and unyielding competitive fire.

Rhain remained seated, resting his chin casually on his knuckles. He didn’t bother to stand, nor did his expression change in the slightest as he met her burning gaze.

"Rhain Voss," Lyra spoke, her voice clear, haughty, and carrying enough volume that everyone could hear her perfectly.

"If you manage to win this contest and claim the first rank..." Lyra lifted her chin slightly, "...then I want a formal duel with you."

The words landed like a thunderclap.

A collective gasp swept through the plaza.

Even the millions watching through the projection arrays across Stormveil City fell into stunned silence for a heartbeat before erupting into a frenzy of disbelief.

Lyra Emberford, the undisputed number one prodigy of Stormveil City, the pearl of the Emberford Noble Family, and the girl widely regarded as the future queen of the Inner Province had just personally stepped down from the grand stage to challenge someone of her own generation.

No one had ever seen Lyra take the initiative like this.

For her entire life, she had been the one others sought to challenge.

Countless proud geniuses had thrown themselves at her feet, begging for a chance to prove themselves against her, only to be crushed.

She had never once needed to lower herself to seek out an opponent.

And yet here she was, extending a challenge to a newcomer who had arrived at the Academy barely a month ago.

"Lyra Emberford is challenging him? Personally?"

"Am I dreaming? The proud Lyra actually walked down to issue a challenge herself?"

"This is unprecedented! She must genuinely believe he is worthy of being her rival!"

Rhain looked up at the beautiful crimson-haired girl standing before him.

His dark grey eyes held not a trace of the excitement or honor that most young men would feel at being personally acknowledged by the greatest beauty and prodigy of the city.

If anything, his expression carried a chilling coldness.

He had not forgotten their last meeting.

Back when he had appeared as Grandmaster Korryn to negotiate with the three Noble Families, it had been Lyra and her Emberford delegation who had presented that vicious proposal, designed to strip him of his independence, absorb his Celestial Elixir Pavilion into their empire, and extract his refinement secrets before discarding him like a used tool.

To him, she was just another arrogant aristocrat who believed the world revolved around her surname.

"Don’t bother," Rhain stated flatly, his dark grey eyes staring right through her. "You will lose."

For a full three seconds, no one dared to breathe.

He actually said that???

Someone had just told Lyra Emberford, to her face, in front of a hundred thousand spectators and the highest dignitaries of the dynasty, that she would lose against someone of her own generation.

A collective intake of breath sucked all the air out of the section.

"Did he just say she would lose?"

"He told Lyra Emberford she would lose! To her face!"

"Is he insane? Even the top Core Palace disciples treat Lyra with respect! Who does he think he is?"

Up on the grand stage, the reactions of the dignitaries were equally surprised.

Patriarch Caelan chuckled, a flicker of amusement crossing his features at the sight of the Emberford prodigy being so casually dismissed.

Patriarch Thorian also looked at the drama with obvious intrest.

While Matriarch Seraphine’s sharp eyes fixed upon Rhain with a complex expression, part indignation on behalf of her daughter, part genuine curiosity about the youth who possessed the audacity to speak such words.

Lyra’s beautiful face flushed with immediate, visible anger.

For her entire life, she had been showered with praise, reverence, and fearful respect.

No one—not even the Crown Prince or the domain masters—had ever spoken to her with such blunt, icy dismissal.

Rhain’s blunt response reminded her of a certain incident which happened not so long ago, and it only worked to add fuel to her burning rage.

"We will see who loses and who wins," Lyra snorted coldly, her hands clenching at her sides.

She turned on her heel, her crimson robes whipping through the air, and strode back toward the grand stage with her chin held high.

But everyone could see the fury radiating from her rigid posture.

The moment she departed, the contestant area erupted into a frenzied storm of whispers.

The crowd was already vibrating with excitement over Rhain’s upcoming matches against the top elites, but now, a completely new, massive question loomed over the tournament.

"Does he really have the strength to defeat Lyra? She’s practically a monster among monsters!"

"Forget Lyra for a moment! Can he even win the contest first? He still has to get past Zane!"

"Zane is the strongest of the Top 30! Four years of relentless training! Even if this newcomer is a genius, can he really surpass someone like Zane?"

The debate raged across every corner of the plaza. Half the crowd was convinced Rhain was an unfathomable monster who could crush anyone in his path, while the other half insisted that Zane, and certainly Lyra, were simply on a different level entirely.

Carmilla leaned back in her chair, a wide, playful grin spreading across her face. ’This little thief certainly knows how to step on tails,’ she mused inwardly.

Myrielle simply massaged her temples, utterly unsurprised by the youth’s sheer audacity, while Seris let out a soft, melodious giggle, her pale purple eyes sparkling with pride. Her husband was simply the best.

Far away in the Outer Palace spectator stands, Liana watched the scene.

Sylvan beside her could only swallow dryly.

The man they had traveled with from the Outer Frontier was now openly exchanging threats with the absolute pinnacle of the city’s hierarchy.

Up on the grand stage, Lyra returned to her seat beside her mother.

Seraphine glanced at her daughter’s flushed, furious face and let out a quiet sigh.

"You provoked him," Seraphine murmured, "And he provoked you right back. Interesting boy."

"He won’t be smiling after I break him," Lyra hissed, her crimson eyes still locked on Rhain’s figure.

Seraphine didn’t reply.

No one knew her daughter better than herself, Lyra might sound arrogant to others, but after she has achieved at her young age, it’s now practically impossible for anyone to defeat her below Core Formation Realm, not even Rhain can do that.

Down at the edge of the arena, High Preceptor Octavius stepped forward once again, his booming voice, silencing the murmurs.

"The intermission has concluded!" Octavius announced. "The matches for the Top 6 shall now commence!"

The twelve remaining competitors gathered on the central platform. This was the apex of the Inner Palace, the strongest of the strong.

The bracket was swiftly drawn, and the match-ups were projected into the air in glowing golden runic text.

When the pairings settled, the crowd immediately zeroed in on one specific match.

"Match Three: Rank 10, Alorian, versus Rhain!"

A ripple of anticipation swept through the plaza.

Alorian was no ordinary Gold Badge disciple. He was a Level 5 Spirit Manifestation expert, entirely renowned for one specific domain: Defense.

He cultivated an Epic-Grade earth-attribute martial art that transformed his body and the surrounding space into an impenetrable fortress.

Among the Top 30, Alorian was widely considered the single hardest opponent to knock out of bounds.

His rooting techniques were so profound that even Zane, the number one disciple, usually needed dozens of exchanges to finally break his stance.

It was the classic paradox: the unstoppable force versus the immovable object.

"This is going to be a battle of attrition!"

"Alorian’s defense is practically a mountain. Rhain won’t be able to end this in a single strike like the others!"

"Next Match!" Octavius roared. "Alorian versus Rhain Voss! Step into the ring!"

Rhain walked leisurely onto the arena floor, his expression as calm and unbothered as ever.

Opposite him, a heavily built, broad-shouldered young man stepped up.

Everyone held their breath, expecting a gruelling battle.

But then, before Octavius could even give the command to begin, Alorian clenched his fists at his sides.

He took a deep breath, and then, to the shock of everyone present, he cupped his hands and lowered his head.

"I forfeit."

The plaza erupted into stunned murmurs.

A Top 10 disciple, one of the strongest geniuses in the entire Inner Palace, had just conceded defeat without throwing a single strike.

It had never happened before. Not once in the history of the Inner Palace Contest had a Top 10 disciple surrendered without a fight.

"He forfeited? Just like that?"

"A Top 10 disciple, giving up without even trying? Has he lost his mind?"

"Coward! At least put up a fight!"

The shocked, outraged murmurs reached Alorian’s ears, but he still stood his ground.

He turned toward the spectator stands and spoke, infusing his Level 5 essence into his voice so it echoed clearly across the plaza.

"Call me a coward if you want!" Alorian shouted back, "My defense is strictly physical! It is strong, yes, but it absolutely cannot block a thousand highly compressed piercing lances raining down on me at once!"

He pointed a thick finger at his own head.

"And even if my body could survive that, my defense cannot protect my mind! The moment he uses the Phantasmal Dreamscape, my physical rooting techniques are completely useless! I’d just walk myself out of the ring while punching the air like an idiot! There is no point in fighting a meaningless battle."

Alorian’s logic silenced the crowd.

He was right.

What good was a mountain-like physical defense against a illusion that tricked your own mind?

If he fought, he wouldn’t just lose; he would be utterly humiliated, just like Navarre and Vanya.

Up on the grand stage, many of the veteran cultivators, sect leaders, and patriarchs actually nodded in slow approval.

"A wise choice," Patriarch Thorian murmured, stroking his beard. "Knowing when a battle is unwinnable and preserving one’s strength and dignity is a crucial survival skill in the martial world. That boy has a good head on his shoulders."

Even High Preceptor Octavius’s stern features softened slightly as he regarded the young man.

"Very well," Octavius announced, his booming voice ringing across the arena. "Rank 10 has chosen to forfeit. I hereby declare Rhain Voss the victor by forfeit! He will now advance to the Top 6!"