Reva's eyes sparkled as she explained. "A peak Rank-8 battle technique that temporarily floods the user with enhanced vitality and strength. For three minutes, you will rise to the pinnacle of Rank-8—a power that few ever taste. The most important feature of this card is that there are absolutely no side effects after usage."

Murmurs rose from the audience again.

"No backlash?" someone whispered.

"Not even fatigue?" another asked.

"That's... insane."

The four quarterfinalists bowed again as their rewards were sealed in stasis capsules and handed over by armored officials.

Meanwhile, Selene tucked her capsule away and sighed softly. "Five million credits, huh…"

Orion leaned toward her. "Don't tell me you're actually disappointed?"

Selene shrugged, pouting a little. "Credits are useless in the Moon Clan."

Orion smiled. "It's important in the real world. And it's not like you live in the Moon Clan, right?"

She blinked. "Well, that's true, but I don't need that much money here. I guess I will simply spend it to buy a skill card."

Before Orion could reply, Reva clapped her hands lightly, drawing attention back to center stage.

"Now…, ladies and gentlemen…" she raised her voice to a dramatic pitch, "Let's welcome the semifinalists!"

A chorus of cheers boomed across the arena. Holographic confetti exploded above the audience like falling stars.

Reva's voice sliced through the frenzy.

"From the preliminary rounds to the pinnacle of the tournament… please give it up for the Dark Horse of this year's tournament—Orion!"

Spotlights blasted onto the crimson carpet. Cameras from every angle zoomed in on the young man walking up the grand stairs toward the podium.

The crowd erupted.

"ORION! ORION!"

From school kids waving fan-made flags to elderly cultivators murmuring with curiosity, everyone had eyes on him.

Orion smiled awkwardly under the spotlight. Reva handed him a sleek mic.

She leaned forward with a grin, her tone teasing.

"So, Mr. Orion… I heard this was your first-ever official tournament. You never even participated in school tournaments! And yet—here you are, not just in the top 8, but the top 4! What's going through your mind right now?"

Orion gave a sheepish chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, uh… It's definitely surreal." He then looked up, smiling softly. "But more than anything… I just wanted to see my parents proud of me. Thank you."

Awws rippled through the stands. Some in the audience even teared up.

Reva laughed. "That's sweet. But you'd better brace yourself. After tonight, there's another kind of battle you'll be fighting…"

She raised an eyebrow playfully.

"The battle of attention. Reporters, sponsors, proposals..."

Orion smirked. "Don't worry, I plan to run away swiftly."

The audience roared with laughter. Some just couldn't help but shake their heads with a smile.

Reva gave him a knowing wink. "We'll see how far you can run after tonight."

She held up two cards now—one sleek and obsidian, pulsing faintly with the sigil of the World Bank. The other, a shimmering gold-edged data crystal inscribed with three brilliant stars on its back.

"According to the rules," she announced, "semifinalists are allowed to pick one reward: Ten million credits in a Clan Union black card… or A Rank-9 Skill Card."

Gasps echoed across the stands.

"Orion, your choice?"

Without a second thought, Orion stepped forward and took the Rank-9 card. The golden light flared slightly in his hand before he glanced at the face of the skill.

The image engraved on it was a dragon, coiled and roaring.

Orion calmly stored it in his inventory without much reaction, offering a small nod of thanks.

Reva grinned at the crowd. "Ooooh, the dark horse picks the skill card instead of money! Not that we expected anything less."

More applause.

Then she turned. "And now… let's welcome the other semifinalist—Viraaj of the Heavenly Academy!"

A lean figure clad in dark robes strode confidently onto the stage. His long hair was tied back, and dark tattoos ran down the left side of his neck.

Viraaj gave a short nod to the audience. He barely looked at the crowd.

Reva, not missing a beat, held up the same two choices. "Viraaj, your pick?"

He pointed to the money instead.

"Ah," Reva noted with intrigue. "That's a surprise."

Viraaj didn't comment. He bowed, stored the card, and left the spotlight.

The lights then dimmed briefly—just enough to reset the crowd's focus.

Then, a majestic golden spotlight lit the center of the stage as Reva turned once more, her smile refined, her tone now solemn.

"And now… the runner-up of the Tournament.

Please welcome—Fiona Garcia!"

The name triggered an explosion of applause, but also a ripple of whispers. Cheers were loudest from those who had watched the match live—those who had seen her summon a colossal titan of frost.

Fiona walked forward with measured steps, her expression calm, neutral… emotionless. The long-sleeved ceremonial robes clung to her frame like icicles frozen in time. But deep down, Fiona wasn't calm.

She's going to ask about the kiss… isn't she?

Her mind flashed with images of Reva teasing Orion earlier. The look on Selene's face.

She stepped onto the stage, giving a polite bow.

Reva welcomed her with a graceful nod. "Fiona. That was a spectacular performance in the final match. You summoned a being many of us could only describe as… divine."

Fiona inclined her head. "Thank you."

"And," Reva continued in the same professional tone—surprisingly without teasing, "as runner-up, you've earned reward that not even the most prestigious tournament ever offered a runner up. Five million credits via black card, and…" she lifted a hand, materializing two shimmering data-crystal cards onto a velvet tray, "not one, but two Rank-9 Skill Cards."

A wave of murmurs echoed through the audience.

Of course, what the cards were wasn't disclosed to the audience because they are different from the rank-8 and rank-7 ones.

Fiona accepted the tray with both hands, offered a curt nod, and turned away.

No Zion jokes. No romance questions. Not a single one.

What's the catch…?

She descended the stairs quickly, expression unchanged—but Zion, from the side, saw the brief flicker of visible relief pass across her eyes.

On the stage, Leah's expression remained thundercloud-dark. If anything, it got a tad bit intense.

Then, the stage dimmed again. The golden spotlight pulsed brighter than ever.

And Reva's voice dropped in tone. "And now—our Champion. The strongest of the strong. The pride of this generation. The Final Victor of the Tournament…"

She paused, drawing out the silence like a true performer.

"Zion Pendragon."

The arena exploded.

The cheers were deafening.

Chants of "Zion! Zion!" filled the air, echoing off every corner of the Grand Arena.