CHAPTER 121: WHOSE THE SUBSTITUTE?

The pulse of murderous intent tore through the coliseum.

It wasn’t sound, but every person felt it like a sudden, invisible storm. Hair snapped backward as if struck by a violent gust of wind. The atmosphere shifted. Something primal screamed in the blood of every living thing present.

And then

Thud, Thud Thud.

People in the stands began to collapse, one after another, like dominoes. Some slumped over the railings. Others crumpled onto each other. Their eyes rolled back. Foam pooled at the corners of mouths. A few were locked in silent screams, paralyzed, pupils dilated with raw terror.

It was as if fear itself had manifested into a force and struck them down.

Everyone below the Third Rank those of D-rank and lower were instantly knocked unconscious. Their minds couldn’t withstand the wave. Even the C-ranks staggered, gripping their heads, grimacing, swaying under the pressure. Some vomited. Others blinked rapidly, hallucinating, struggling to separate reality from illusion.

"This is... killing intent," Arabella whispered. She stood closest to Razeal and could feel it deeper than anyone else. The air around him shimmered faintly, as though reality were being bent by his presence alone.

What kind of spell is this?

She glanced down at her hand, reaching out toward him. The invisible pulse passed through her fingers like smoke no impact, no heat, nothing physical yet every nerve in her body clearly felt it. It by passed the flesh entirely. It wasn’t a physical assault.

This was mental. Psychological. A direct assault on the will.

Arabella turned, eyes sweeping the arena. The spectators were crumbling, some frozen in terror, others passed out cold. A few of the lower ranks perhaps some strong Second or Third Rank remained conscious maybe because of strong will power, though barely. She narrowed her eyes.

So it wasn’t just strength. It was willpower. Those who endured had stronger minds, not just stronger bodies or rank.

The majority who fainted were simply weaker mentally, emotionally. The stronger spectators, in contrast, were mostly still upright, though not untouched. She could see it in their faces the strain. The discomfort. The grimace of something clawing at their minds, trying to dig in, but unable to fully break through.

"I’ve never seen a skill like this," she muttered, channeling mana in an attempt to dispel the wave. But it was useless. There was nothing to dispel. The force wasn’t made of mana or matter. It didn’t exist in a way magic could touch.

Invisible. Intangible. Unstoppable.

Interesting... She thought

But someone else was even more intrigued.

Selphira.

She didn’t flinch or panic. Instead, her eyes sharpened, and she calmly adjusted her glasses lenses glinting with analytical curiosity.

Fascination lit her expression like a slow-burning flame.

"What an extraordinary use of killing intent..." she murmured to herself, voice just above a whisper.

How is he doing this? How did he convert pure intent? emotional drive to kill into a force that can strike en masse? That can breach mental defenses like a weapon?

She closed her eyes briefly, letting the wave wash over her again.

This wasn’t how killing intent typically worked. No. Traditionally, Killing intent was just primal instinctive. Not a spell or aura. Its just... more like a feeling. A chill at the base of the spine. A sudden, inexplicable dread. The gut-wrenching certainty that someone near you wanted you dead.

Humans animals all feel it. It was tied to survival baked into evolution.

But this?

This wasn’t mere instinct. This was calculated. Focused. Amplified.

It’s not just the feeling of someone wanting to kill... His is totally different concept

Her eyes opened, slowly narrowing again.

It’s the memory of having done it. A weight. A history. He’s collected it condensed it and turned it into a wave of psychological force. Not energy or magic. Something deeper. More primal. Atleast not type of energy or concept she ever heard of.

And under this new wave, Selphira could feel the difference.

"But... if this is real... then how did he gather all that and shape it into something like this?"

A mental assault? A will-based attack?

And it was working.

Thousands... thousands of spectators across the arena were collapsing like dominoes. Eyes rolling back. Bodies convulsing. Foaming at the mouth. Not a single wound visible yet they were out cold, their consciousness snuffed like candles in a storm.

She slowly turned her head, her gaze landing on Razeal’s back.

And just how many people do you need to kill to cultivate killing intent of this magnitude?

The question fell from her lips in a whisper, so soft it was almost a breath. Her eyes narrowed, her thoughts racing.

But wait wasn’t this boy supposed to be talentless? Mana-less? Practically crippled in a world of aura and arcane?

Her pupils suddenly dilated as realisation hit her.

Did he... create this himself? A technique that bypasses mana? One that doesn’t rely on innate talent? Out of box

If that was true, then he wasn’t just smart.

He was brilliant.

Her entire perspective tilted. She had already been impressed by his tactical brilliance the way he constructed his plan to win the duel had been masterful, almost too methodical dirty but win is win. But this?

Creating an entirely new combat field?

This wasn’t just genius.

This was revolutionary.

A truly impressive intellectual talent.

She always considered herself a genius though deep down she knew she was simply a fast learner. A seeker. A scholar who stood on the shoulders of giants and peered into new possibilities through knowledge.

But now she imagined: what if she had been born with no ability? No mana, no aura nothing?

Could she have carved out an entirely new path like this? Could she have invented a concept like this, from nothing?

He may have just opened a brand-new field of magical application

weaponizing killing intent as a mental assault.

Her curiosity erupted like wildfire.

How did he manipulate it? Control it? Condense it into something this precise and devastating?

Her analytical mind caught fire, racing to decipher the mechanics. The more she thought, the more her chest felt like butterflies flying around her.

It was like watching someone break open a sealed door in a dead-end corridor

and finding an unexplored road beneath.

She leaned forward, eyes locked onto Razeal, studying him with a mix of awe and fixation, as though he were a living equation waiting to be solved.

---

Elsewhere, High above spectators stands.

"What... is this, mother?" Maria asked, her voice unsteady, her face pale. She gripped the her stumack as a wave of sickness rolled over her. It was weird even for her. She felt like she was in middle of mountain of dead bodies. blood everywhere. She felt nauseous.

Her mother’s eyes, normally calm and regal, were now sharp as blades.

"I don’t know," she murmured, "but it seems... he’s not as talentless as they all believed."

A moment of silence fell between them. Then

"It’s like discovering an entirely new application of way."

---

Across the chambers, three young women reacted with equally intense, yet wildly different energy.

Nova’s reaction was the most explosive literally.

The ornate chair she’d been sitting on shattered beneath her as she jumped to her feet, eyes wide, her expression a wild mix of disbelief, exhilaration, and relief.

She stormed toward the edge of the balcony, both hands gripping the stone ledge as they cracked. she leaned forward to get a closer look.

Her heart pounded, and her voice trembled.

"He... he did it. He finally found something!"

Tears threatened to gather in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away.

Nova had been among those most quietly burdened by worry fearful that Razeal would remain strengthless forever in a world that didn’t forgive the weak. And now, before her eyes, he was no longer that helpless figure. A spark of hope.

---

Selena, standing nearby, was nearly bouncing with joy. Her whole body radiated happiness so pure it was impossible to fake.

"I knew it! I knew he had find a way!" she cried, clapping her hands together. "He finally got something of his own!"

There was no jealousy. No hesitation. Just raw pride in her voice.

---

Celestia was happy too, but at the same time, she frowned as she rubbed her chin. He can do that? Hmm... but this killing intent?

How many people had he killed? And how did he kill such a large number to create this immense killing intent? Where did that strength come from? She could also distinguish between ordinary killing intent and this new, refined application of it.

It didn’t take her long to grasp the concept causing her frown to deepen.

Did that mean he had other skills? At the very least, enough to kill so many people to generate such overwhelming killing intent.

---

Back to Areon

Areon could barely breathe. His entire body was already damaged, blood spilling from torn and ruptured wounds. The pain was constant burning, aching but even that was eclipsed by the murderous intent directed at him. It pressed against his skin like a storm, unnatural and overwhelming.

It confused him. Something about it felt off, different, like it wasn’t just killing intent it was something more. But Areon didn’t have the energy or presence of mind to care. It didn’t shake him, not really. His thoughts were singular, focused.

He was still consumed by fury.

Even while barely standing, his blood pouring freely, eyes blurred with exhaustion his gaze never left Razeal. Areon’s own eyes burned with killing intent, fierce and unwavering. He was ready to fight, no matter how broken he was.

A soft sigh broke through the tension.

Arabella shook her head slowly, her expression a mixture of disappointment and concern. "He’s only hurting and embarrassing himself..." she whispered under her breath, her voice laced with quiet sorrow as she looked at her son.

Her gaze shifted to Nancy, who stood to the side, staring at Razeal with narrowed eyes. She, too, had noticed the strange evolution in the killing intent and was clearly confused.

But the moment her eyes met her mother’s, she understood.

No words were needed.

Nancy vanished.

In a blink, she reappeared behind Areon, her speed so fast it felt like teleportation. Her presence barely disturbed the air.

"You should rest now, brother~" she whispered softly, placing a gentle hand behind his neck.

A precise chop.

Areon’s eyes widened, then faded white as unconsciousness took him. His body began to collapse.

Nancy caught him effortlessly, cradling him with practiced ease thought still his body was compusing due to pain he was in.

Meanwhile, Razeal, who had been watching silently, gave a small shrug and let his murderous intent dissolve into nothing.

"Well... I guess no one’s going to let me have my moment," he muttered with a slight pout, scratching the back of his head.

And with that, the whole audience went silent.

They stared as Areon fell, and Razeal was declared the winner.

Was that it? Was it really over just like that?

Just as the crowd began to murmur, Arabella silently walked over to Selphira. She whispered something to her. Selphira nodded once, twice, again listening carefully.

Then, after a brief pause, she gave a final nod, as if understanding everything.

With that, she rose into the air, floating high above the arena, and gently opened her mouth to speak.

"Esteemed attendees,

In accordance with the sanctioned regulations governing this Duel of Honour, it is my duty to announce the following:

The designated combatant, Areon Dragonwevr, has been officially withdrawn from the duel due to injuries sustained prior to commencement. As stipulated under Article 76D of the Duel Charter, such withdrawal whether voluntary or due to incapacitation confers immediate victory to the opposing duelist, Razeal.

Furthermore, as per Article 77DL, participants unable to engage for valid reasons are permitted to request a substitute. A request for substitution has been duly submitted. I now ask Razeal if he will accept.."

She was abruptly cut off.

"Ohhh~ Don’t bother. I’m the substitute I’ll ask him myself."

The voice came from above light, carefree, and completely unbothered by the tension in the arena.

A girl drifted down from the sky, her long sky-green hair rippling behind her like silk in the wind. She landed lightly, one foot touching the ground before the other, as if gravity itself had been waiting for her to finish, her slim figure framed by the sunlight, as if she belonged on a stage.

---

Sorry for the late Chapter I’m really sick today and my head is killing me 😭😭 I could only manage one Chapter tday, but I’ll try to write. If it doesn’t come out well, I’ll rest for the day.

Thanks for reading, as always.

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