UNMEI: Pantheon's Game-Chapter 112: Calm

Ramires slowly raised his hand, his voice cutting through the air like thunder.

"Next match, Edward Ederyus versus Cedric Valefort!"

The names hit the glowing walls of the arena like a shockwave, and the audience roared.

Two members of the top ten were about to clash, and neither was known for being weak.

From one end, Cedric Valefort stepped onto the platform, spear in hand, dressed in deep navy and iron-gray battle robes. His short, silver hair barely moved in the breeze. His expression was cold and unreadable. His Neba pulsed steadily, heavy and quiet like the deep sea.

Across from him, Edward Ederyus walked with a sly grin on his face, green Neba crackling around his fingertips.

He wore a long coat lined with emerald, and his eyes flicked across the arena as if already calculating escape routes. He moved casually, but Dune could see it, Edward was coiled tight, ready to explode into action.

Ramires raised his hand high.

"Begin!"

The fight erupted instantly.

Cedric moved first.

A flash, and suddenly there were ten of him.

The audience gasped as ten identical Cedrics charged forward at once, spearpoints gleaming, perfectly synchronized, their footsteps like a drumbeat of war.

But Edward only smirked.

Green light shimmered across the arena floor, portals.

Edward vanished before the spears could strike, slipping through a portal and reappearing halfway across the platform.

Another blink, and he was behind a different clone, unleashing a blast of green neba that shattered it instantly.

Then another portal, another teleport.

He moved through the battlefield like a ghost, dismantling Cedric's clones one by one, barely staying a step ahead.

"He's set the whole arena up with portals," Atlas muttered from the stands, brows furrowed. "He's controlling the space completely."

Dune watched silently, eyes narrowing.

"Cedric's clones... they aren't just illusions, they can damage him if they get too close."

Down on the field, Cedric adjusted, his remaining eight clones moving like a machine.

Spears thrust, curved, and stabbed through the air.

Edward weaved through them, using the portals, his green light leaving afterimages behind him.

It became a brutal dance of speed and precision.

Edward destroyed another two clones with a clever feint, luring them into an ambush through one of his mid-air portals.

Five clones remained.

Then three.

Then just one.

And standing, breathing heavily in the center of the arena,

Cedric, But instead of attacking clone, Edward decided to go for the real one, on that was distancing himself."

Edward's lips curled into a grin.

"Got you."

He blinked through a portal, appearing behind the weakened Cedric, and drove his blade cleanly into his back.

Blood spilled from Cedric's mouth.

Edward stepped back, triumphant... until he saw the grin.

The figure collapsed, and dissolved.

It wasn't Cedric but Another clone.

In the same instant, the real Cedric emerged from the shadows behind Edward.

He spun his spear in a perfect arc, and with the blunt end, smashed Edward across the back.

Edward's body launched through the air, crashing out of bounds beyond the platform.

The arena froze in silence.

Then the explosion came.

Cheers, laughter, and roars of excitement thundered through the stands.

"Winner, Cedric Valefort!" Ramires shouted, his voice shaking the walls.

Cedric didn't smirk.

He simply lowered his spear and turned calmly, walking off the arena like it was just another day.

From above, Dune leaned forward, arms crossed.

"He used the distance to sell the illusion... Smart."

Atlas let out a low whistle.

"Edward fell for it too easily."

Ned shook his head.

"I would too."

As Cedric left the arena with the deafening crowd, one thing was clear.

The top 10 weren't just powerful.

They were terrifyingly clever.

And Cedric Valefort had just proved it again.

The crowd's energy surged like a crashing wave as Ramires stepped forward, his voice amplified by Neba.

"Next match, Dune versus Syras Vermillion!"

The arena shook with excitement.

Dune walked out first, now polished black floor of the arena reflecting his steady steps. His black hair shifted slightly with the rising wind, and his calm eyes swept across the roaring stands.

The people recognized him, they shouted his name, cheered for him, but there was something different in the air this time.

"That's Dune!" someone shouted. "He's been winning without even showing his ability!"

"Yeah, but Syras is ranked in top 10!" another voice answered. "We already know his Neba... It's complicated as hell."

Dune heard it all but kept walking, each step grounding him deeper into focus.

Across the arena, Syras Vermillion emerged, tall, lean, brown hair falling into sharp eyes the color of burning coal. He wore a loose black fighting gi, hands wrapped in dark red bandages. His Neba crackled subtly, distorting the air around him.

As Dune reached the center of the platform, he let his thoughts sharpen, slicing through the noise.

Syras Vermillion.

He had watched every one of Syras's matches carefully.

His ability's weird... Anything he touches gets pushed in unpredictable directions.

A punch from the front could send you slamming down into the ground, or flying sideways, or even jerk you straight into the sky.

Syras could manipulate the push... without pattern.

And worse... He can use it on himself, too.

Dune had seen it, Syras moving mid-air, changing his fall into a sudden sprint across the platform.

Dodging attacks that should've hit him cleanly.

Recovering from falls that should have thrown him out of bounds.

Trying to push him off the platform is useless.

Dune flexed his fingers at his side.

He would have to knock him out.

And Syras wasn't stupid. His style was messy, but everything he did was deliberate, designed to bait you into overcommitting, then make you pay for it.

Dune breathed in deeply. He didn't know how many secrets Syras was still hiding. And Syras didn't know anything about him either.

He let a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. That's fine, because i already found a way to beat him.

Across from him, Syras tilted his head slightly, smiling as if he was already imagining the chaos to come.

The two of them stood alone on the wide black platform, the world narrowing around them.

The crowd's cheers fell into a low, tense hum.

Above them, on the high balcony, higher ups and legends of Sanatria watched in silence.

Ramires raised his hand, voice slicing the heavy air. ƒreewebɳovel.com

"Begin!"

Neither moved immediately.

They simply stared at each other, two forces coiled to strike, and in the space between them, the first sparks of the real battle ignited.