Chapter 91 - The Struggle for the Flag
A battle to determine the final owner of the flag.
Jin liked that it was strictly an individual match.
Only one person would survive.
Everyone except me is an enemy.
How simple the rules were.
The idea of seizing a symbolic flag reminded him of WWE's Money in the Bank, a childhood favorite.
Hmm.
Money in the Bank means Edge.
Edge means Spear.
Spear means spear techniques.
Spear techniques mean the Gerstein family.
The representative of the Gerstein family is Carlos Gerstein.
Like recalling the melody of a nursery rhyme about a monkey's red butt, Jin used this association technique to memorize names.
There were so many unfamiliar names lately that he had to do this to remember them.
Anyway, spear techniques mean Gerstein.
Spear techniques mean Gerstein.
After chanting it to himself, Jin glanced around.
Before he knew it, the surrounding area was filled with competitors.
Each maintained a cautious distance while eyeing one another warily.
A subtle tension lingered, but the atmosphere was far better than in Group 1.
That was to be expected.
Though they had less attention, at least they weren't destined to be stepping stones for the Thunder King.
If things went well, they might even make it to the finals.
Amidst faintly sprouting hope, the battle horn finally sounded.
Bwooooh──!
"Die!"
A sharp voice pierced Jin's ear.
It was from behind.
Someone had rushed at him for a sneak attack but stupidly shouted in the process.
Jin couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.
It's idiots like this that get eliminated instantly.
What gave them the courage to participate in the first place?
Swish!
Jin turned his body.
Then, with ease, he raised his forearm above his head, just as a leg came crashing down onto it.
Had they reinforced their attack with magic?
A faint blue mana shimmered on their surface.
Of course, Jin's arm didn't budge an inch.
"Uh?!"
The attacker's eyes widened, clearly not expecting their move to be blocked.
Jin smoothly tilted his arm sideways and then flicked it upward.
The leg was thrown back, disrupting their stance.
Without hesitation, he drove his foot forward into the opening.
Thud!!
The man flew back as if hit by a truck, while Jin immediately ducked his head.
Whoosh!
A wooden sword wrapped in mana barely skimmed past the crown of his head.
"Shit!" came a frustrated curse.
The attacker must have thought they just barely missed, but they were wrong.
Jin had moved only as much as necessary—nothing more.
After dodging efficiently, his counterattack came instantly.
A swift sweep to the ankle sent the attacker face-first into the ground.
Jin straightened his posture, confirming the downed opponent with a side glance.
By then, two more men had appeared in front of him.
"Let's take him out first."
"Agreed."
Ironically, they had been fighting each other moments ago.
But now, faced with a common threat, their interests aligned.
They exchanged a brief glance and charged from opposite sides.
Crack!
The man on the right's jaw snapped upward.
Unable to resist the momentum, he skidded across the ground.
Seeing this, the other hesitated, slowing down.
At that moment, Jin's solid fist struck him in the lower abdomen—right at the liver.
"Keheeeek---!"
Doubling over in pain, his last sight was of a shoe sole blotting out the sky—
Thud!!!
Jin finished him off with a brutal kick to the face and shrugged.
The surrounding fights momentarily paused.
The bodies sprawled on the ground said it all.
A real competitor had arrived.
As everyone hesitated, cautiously watching each other—
"You're not coming? Are you all going to embarrass the Purist faction?"
Jin spoke with a hand on his waist, his tone utterly certain they would attack as a group.
His casual confidence provoked them even more.
They felt utterly disrespected.
"This cocky bastard!"
"You think you're better than us?!"
"You'll regret this."
With twisted expressions, they closed in.
Jin grinned.
"That's more like it."
At the same time, violet lightning surged from his body.
Crackle, crackle—!!
The bolts rampaged wildly, not only enveloping his form but extending outward.
"Wait, purple lightning?!"
In the face of its overwhelming dominance, their expressions turned to shock.
Crack!
The ground beneath Jin shattered—
Then, like a lightning strike, his movement descended upon them.
Boom!!!
With the roar of thunder, one man's body was hurled into the air.
It was the guy at the very front.
He spun wildly mid-air, resembling a figure skater pulling off a triple axel, before crashing outside the ring.
But no one could fully grasp what had just happened.
Because before they could even turn their heads, more deafening thunderclaps followed.
Rumble!!!
The arena flashed with explosive bursts of violet electricity.
Competitors began dropping like flies.
Eight out of ten collapsed before they could even react.
One was blasted away by sheer force.
The last panicked and stumbled backward, realizing something had gone terribly wrong.
But not everyone was so easily overwhelmed—
"Don't underestimate us!"
"Defend!"
Those with powerful mana fortifications charged in.
Enhancing their bodies and weapons, launching projectiles, chanting incantations—
Jin didn't evade.
In the fraction of a second, he measured the distance between himself and his opponents before moving his body in an instant.
Clang!
He struck away the sword aiming for his chest with the back of his hand and dodged the spell projectile aimed at his head by tilting backward.
As his opponents' stances wavered, he relentlessly struck their chests.
Then, before the giant warrior who had approached from behind could accelerate his descending axe, Jin grabbed its handle.
Crack!
With sheer grip strength, he shattered the axe's handle.
At that moment, the purists charged in from all directions.
Jin, standing firmly in place, swung his Polar Radiance with all his might.
────!!
In the next instant, a hemispherical burst of lightning energy erupted from Jin, sweeping through the surroundings.
The last few fighters still resisting began to collapse one by one in rigid postures.
The lightning that had coursed through them rose into the air, dissipating into the hazy smoke.
"..."
"..."
The arena had long since fallen silent.
Spectators watched in stunned silence.
Other contestants, warming up while waiting for their turn, froze.
Even the remaining purists of Group 1, still engaged in their fights, stopped mid-motion and turned their heads.
At the center of all those gazes, Jin casually dusted off his hands.
"Better than I expected."
Though his progress followed a mechanical process devoid of deliberation, making his realizations perhaps shallower than others at his level, his sheer output remained unmatched among his peers.
His mana circuit, honed through sheer perseverance, had reached level 5.
Strengthened even further by the efficient absorption of True Blood, his circuit was like a deeply rooted tree.
Had his younger friend—the one who had suggested this game—been present, they might have given a standing ovation.
Even without formal instruction, Jin was walking the archetypal path of an irregular king's return.
Of course, Jin himself had no interest in such game-like elements.
He simply surveyed the scorched battlefield and, with unwavering steps, strode toward the center of the arena, toward the fluttering flag.
Gripping the flagpole firmly, he took a deep breath—
Then let out a thunderous cry.
"Let's win this!!!"
"Eh, uh, wha—?"
Raph had seemingly lost his ability to form coherent words.
Only fragmented sounds escaped his agape mouth.
"Wait, are you a branch member of Zahad? An Esquire? No, if you were, you wouldn't even be allowed to participate. Then… what the hell are you?"
But, of course, none of this reached Jin.
"Phew, haven't used this much strength in a while. They don't sell chicken around here?"
Jin's search for food was immediately broadcasted on the giant screen.
The audience went wild.
"Who is that guy? There can't be two representatives from a single family!"
"Maybe he's an unregistered branch member?"
"I found him! Jin Evernight. He's solo. Level 4."
"That's lower than I expected. But that skill he just showed…"
"He must've been hiding his strength!"
"Who cares, man?! That was freaking awesome! I'm a fan now!"
Cheers and debates erupted in waves, with everyone welcoming Jin's sudden emergence.
It was only natural.
How long had it been since a non-family representative had made such a shocking debut?
Everyone assumed this tournament would, as always, revolve around the seven great families.
But now, a dark horse had appeared.
And not only that—he had boldly declared his intent to win.
The competition, which seemed predictable, had suddenly become exciting.
How could the crowd not erupt?
WAAAAHHHH!!!
The qualifiers were already ablaze with excitement—
Yet there was one person who seethed alone.
"..."
Kendrick's forehead throbbed as a vein bulged.
Of course, he had also seized a flag.
The problem was, he had done so just a little later than Jin.
By the time he grabbed his flag, all attention had already shifted to that colt.
At this moment, the roaring cheers in the arena sounded slightly different to Kendrick.
"Of course, the Thunder King advanced. Did you expect praise for that?"
"If you're so mad, you should've grabbed the flag first."
He nearly lost his composure.
Hold it in.
Hold it in.
Hold it in.
Quickly regaining his poker face, Kendrick resolved himself.
Fine.
I'll just beat him in the main tournament.
Actually, this is good.
If I had ignored him, it would've been annoying later.
Yeah, a coronation without a challenge would be boring.
Just as Kendrick steadied his mind—
"Ugh. So many people."
Jin returned, hands full of food, and plopped down in his seat.
So many people had grabbed him on the way.
He had to stop for countless photos.
He even had to make up a signature on the spot.
(As a result, every single one looked different.)
For the first time, he felt a slight empathy for Elina.
Meanwhile, Groups 3 and 4 were preparing for their matches on the field, brightening Jin's expression.
Now, he could just sit back and enjoy the remaining fights.
"This looks fun."
And it truly was.
Munching on popcorn, he watched match after match, each one entertaining.
Of course, being human, his attention naturally gravitated toward the representatives of the great families.
Group 4: Katrina Marzie.
As expected of Marzie of the Dark Ice, she lowered the temperature of a vast area, restricting her opponents' movements.
Then, when they could barely move, she lightly tapped them out of bounds, claiming the flag.
Group 5: Anna Solard.
As soon as the match began, white flames erupted.
A wall of fire surrounded the edges of the arena, cutting off any escape routes.
Then, with a fiery approach, the participants were forced into direct combat for the flag!
The crowd showered praise upon the two women who advanced to the finals, each displaying completely different styles.
Naturally, meaningless debates broke out—who was more attractive, whose style was better, and so on.
If you preferred the icy beauty type? Katrina.
If you leaned toward a more natural charm? Anna.
Honestly, what did it matter?
But these kinds of discussions were part of the fun, after all.
As the atmosphere grew more intense, it was time for groups 7 and 8.
This was the highlight.
Two of the tournament's top contenders were entering at the same time.
Group 7: Ryucard Anarion.
Group 8: Carlos Gerstein.
One was an unparalleled swordsman (currently sitting still with his eyes closed).
The other, a master of the spear (yawning non-stop).
Jin's gaze darted back and forth.
No way.
How did they end up in matches like this?
Then, the deep sound of a war horn echoed.
Ryucard, his silver hair cascading to his waist, opened his eyes.
Clink.
His right thumb pushed the blade upward from the sheath, while his left hand, gripping the hilt, smoothly traced an arc in the air.
And in the next moment—
A fan-shaped ripple spread outward, gently sweeping over every participant's body.
That was it.
"Cough!"
Like a collapsing house of cards, they all crumpled to the ground.
At first glance, it looked like an awkwardly choreographed performance.
But to those who understood, it was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
Jin was one of those people.
Whoa, did he just repel their mana?
Jin clapped his hands in admiration upon realizing what had happened—Ryucard had infused his own mana into their circuits, overloading them.
He adjusted the output precisely so that no one was actually harmed.
Such meticulous control—it was enough to send chills down his spine.
But then—oh no, Group 8!
A sudden jolt of realization struck Jin, and he quickly turned his head.
Too late.
The ship had already sailed.
Carlos had already taken care of everyone and was standing there, lazily holding the flag, stifling another yawn.
Damn it, I missed it.
Jin wasn't the only one—groans of disappointment erupted all around.
Well, what could they do?
They'd just have to watch the replay later.
With the two frontrunners leaving the arena side by side, it was time for a short break.
Until Dayor Hakan of Group 13 appeared, the upcoming matches wouldn't feature any notable family representatives.
So, Jin relaxed a little and focused on his meal.
"You want some?"
"...No. I think I'm gonna throw up."
Only Raph (Group 11), whose turn was approaching fast, was turning pale.
Meanwhile, the participants of Groups 9 and 10 began stepping into the arena, prompting Jin to glance up, still chewing on his chicken.
One by one, he examined them with an open mind.
Then, suddenly, his head tilted in confusion.
Did I see that right?
Just in case, he rubbed his eyes and looked again.
No, he wasn't mistaken.
Why is she here?
At the end of his puzzled gaze, a familiar figure stood.
Long, black hair flowing like a waterfall.
Obsidian eyes.
Plump, rose-colored lips.
The scatterbrained woman he had once met at a roadside diner looked exactly like that.
Just as Jin instinctively set his chicken down, their eyes met.
And she smiled.