Chapter 11

  Hambo planted his feet firmly into the ground, unmoving—solid as a mountain. His cold expression never shifted, yet a sharp glint flashed in his eyes, a silent warning of the storm to come. He studied Moryo with quiet focus, as if measuring every ounce of his strength. After a brief pause, he spoke—calm, but heavy with intent.

  “Let’s continue this event.”

  Something about Hambo changed. His presence sharpened, his focus tightening as he slid into a flawless combat stance—one forged through years of ruthless discipline.

  Without warning, Moryo lunged forward.

  He moved like lightning tearing through a storm-dark sky, so fast it seemed the air itself ripped apart in his wake. Almost at the same instant, Hambo advanced to meet him. The two closed in like twin arrows loosed toward the heavens.

  Suddenly, Hambo’s hand ignited with a violent spark, crackling loud enough to echo across the battlefield. He roared as he unleashed it straight at Moryo.

  But Moryo remained calm.

  With absolute confidence, he slipped past the attack in a smooth, flowing motion, his body moving as if carried by the wind itself.

  The spark didn’t stop.

  It screamed through the air—straight toward Suero, who stood farther back.

  Heat surged violently as the attack closed in. Suero’s eyes widened in alarm. At the last possible instant, he threw himself aside. The spark smashed into the ground, detonating with a thunderous blast. Dirt and grass exploded upward as a fierce gust swept the field, leaving behind a shallow crater with thin smoke curling from its depths.

  Amid the chaos, Moryo charged again.

  Green sparks danced around his clenched fist like living flames as he gathered all his strength into a single, devastating punch aimed straight at Hambo’s face. The air trembled violently, as if nature itself had paused to witness the impact.

  The moment Moryo’s fist connected, a shockwave erupted. Leaves scattered, and a dense cloud of dust burst outward in all directions.

  Yet Hambo didn’t move.

  Not an inch.

  He stood there, unmoved, staring at Moryo with utter indifference—as though nothing had happened at all.

  Shock flickered across Moryo’s face.

  “What?...” he muttered under his breath. “He didn’t even budge?”

  Before he could react, Hambo’s hand clamped down on Moryo’s arm with unexpected force. In a motion as swift as the wind itself, he hurled him away.

  Moryo was sent flying high into the air—but he twisted mid-flight with remarkable control, regaining his balance before landing cleanly on his feet. He straightened up, his expression tense as his mind raced, analyzing every detail.

  Slowly, Hambo turned to face him from across the battlefield.

  His eyes were like drawn blades, carrying a silent, ominous message.

  Moryo’s thoughts spiraled in frustration.

  That ability… “The Immortal Mountain.” But that’s a derivative of the Kurmo technique—?!

  He narrowed his eyes and called out,

  “Are you from the Raimo Clan?”

  Hambo approached in deadly silence.

  Each heavy step echoed with a steady rhythm, like the drums of an ancient war. His gaze never wavered—sharp enough to pierce the soul itself. Moryo stood his ground, fury boiling beneath his skin.

  Then—

  Moryo exploded forward like a raging tempest, leaping toward Hambo at blinding speed. The air shuddered around him.

  Even so, Hambo continued walking.

  Steady. Unhurried.

  As if time itself bent in his favor.

  When Moryo finally reached him, he raised his arm, ready to unleash a relentless barrage. His fists rained down in a storm of pure rage.

  But Hambo evaded every strike with terrifying precision, his body shifting effortlessly—almost gracefully—like a dancer gliding between threads of death.

  Moryo snarled, frustration reaching its limit.

  With a sharp cry, he decided to end it.

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  He thrust his palm directly in front of Hambo’s face, braced himself, and roared with raw fury. A massive green spark erupted from his hand, blazing with searing light as it surged forward without mercy.

  Moryo flipped backward instantly, landing at a distance as thick smoke swallowed Hambo like a dark fog.

  He watched closely, chest rising and falling, his breathing heavy as tension and rage coiled tighter within him.

  But then—

  Hambo stepped out of the smoke.

  His expression hadn’t changed. Not a single scratch marked his face. His eyes stood firm like unyielding mountains, glowing with a deep, icy calm.

  Moryo whispered in shock, disbelief shaking his voice,

  “Impossible... How?!”

  The silence broke as Hambo’s calm voice echoed across the field, carrying a strange, heavy weight.

  “I always believed mages existed to protect humanity. Yet my entire life…”

  His gaze darkened.

  “I’ve seen nothing but submission and humiliation before them. Why? Just because I’m a sorcerer?”

  Moryo replied coldly, watching him with caution,

  “I don’t care what you believe. Results are all that matter.”

  Hambo continued, his voice turning almost confessional,

  “I chose this path as Master Betma’s mage—not for humanity…”

  He paused, then finished quietly,

  “but... because I don’t want to disappoint him.”

  Before another word could be spoken, the ground trembled under heavy footsteps.

  Moryo turned sharply.

  Suero was approaching.

  He walked in silence, yet every step carried unshakable resolve, as though the earth itself responded to his will. Rage burned across his face, and a deep darkness swirled in his eyes—so dense it seemed to devour the air around him.

  Suero passed Moryo without even a glance, heading straight for Hambo. His voice rumbled low, thick with restrained fury.

  “SHUT UP…”

  Moryo snapped sharply,

  “Stand back!”

  Suero ignored him completely and kept moving. His blazing eyes locked onto Hambo as he spoke, his tone deep and unwavering.

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about…

  But I know one thing for sure—

  I won’t stand by when it comes to protecting those I care about.

  I WILL NEVER STOP.”

  Suero stopped directly in front of Hambo.

  Anger and determination were etched into his features. His fist clenched tight as a faint blue glow flickered around it, as if some hidden power was gathering within.

  Hambo asked calmly, yet with piercing intensity,

  “Will you devote your life to protecting the people you love?”

  Suero answered without hesitation,

  “If that’s what it takes…

  Then I’ll become the villain to protect them.”

  As the two exchanged charged stares, Moryo stood nearby, frozen—his face caught between shock and disbelief. His eyes fixed on the faint blue spark pulsing around Suero’s fist, and he murmured in awe,

  “This… this…!”

  ---

  Flashback — Memories of the Past (10 Years Ago)

  Twelve-year-old Moryo sat on a simple chair across from Sbyam Brius. He wore a traditional blue mage robe, plain and modest, while Sbyam stood in sharp, modern attire—elegant, confident, almost dazzling. A sly grin curved his lips as he spoke with excitement.

  “Blue Magic Technique! It’s the strongest offensive technique there is!”

  Moryo looked at him calmly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

  “And what exactly is that technique?”

  Sbyam’s grin widened.

  “The best offensive technique you could ever obtain…”

  He leaned closer.

  “if.. you’re an ordinary person.”

  Moryo raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

  “What nonsense are you talking about?”

  Sbyam chuckled and leaned forward.

  “If you weren’t from the Raipozi Clan, and the heir to Time Technique, I’d teach it to you immediately!”

  After a brief silence, Moryo asked,

  “What makes it so special?”

  Sbyam answered without hesitation,

  “It’s an offensive technique that rivals the unique powers of the three great clans—and sometimes even surpasses them.”

  Then his expression turned serious.

  “The secret lies in the punch its users employ. It’s called ‘Shrine Punch’—one of the most destructive abilities in the world of magic.”

  Moryo focused, repeating the name slowly.

  “Shrine Punch?”

  Sbyam nodded eagerly.

  “Yes. At first, it’s mostly luck. But once mastered—when you tighten the fist and then suddenly release its force just before impact—it creates a disturbance in the surrounding air. That disturbance amplifies the strike enormously…”

  He raised a finger.

  “reaching.. 33 × 1000 newtons.”

  Moryo’s eyes widened in shock.

  “What?!”

  Sbyam laughed darkly.

  “Don’t worry about the details…”

  Then he added with a grin,

  “Just don’t try it unless you’re ready to blow yourself apart.”

  ---

  Present Day

  Moryo stared at the blue sparks dancing around Suero’s clenched fist, disbelief flooding his expression. This wasn’t ordinary energy—it pulsed with a strange rhythm, almost alive.

  Suero, however, paid Moryo no attention. His eyes remained locked on Hambo, rage swelling inside him like a storm on the verge of breaking.

  Slowly, Suero tightened his fist.

  The sparks intensified.

  He raised his hand slightly, preparing to strike.

  At that moment, time itself seemed to slow. The whispering wind faded. Leaves froze midair, as if the entire world were holding its breath.

  Then—

  Suero burst forward at terrifying speed, driving his fist straight toward Hambo’s face.

  At the last instant, with precise calculation, Hambo moved his hand, skillfully redirecting the punch and reducing its momentum.

  But the sparks around Suero’s fist suddenly shifted—

  from blue

  to a deep, lethal crimson.

  When the strike connected, a deafening explosion tore through the arena, accompanied by a roar like that of ancient beasts.

  The air convulsed violently, releasing a massive shockwave that rippled across the battlefield.

  The ground beneath Hambo cracked apart. Earth and debris erupted skyward like a fountain of shattered stone. Nearby trees shook violently—some torn from their roots—collapsing in a chaotic cascade. Leaves were flung in every direction, swallowed by the raging force.

  Hambo’s body was launched into the air like a lifeless doll, slamming into the trunk of a massive tree. The impact was too much—the tree groaned, bent forward, then collapsed into another behind it. Hambo continued to tumble, smashing through several trees before finally crashing into the ground, motionless.

  Blood streamed from his nose, mixing with the dust that now blanketed the battlefield.

  Suero stood frozen, staring at his hand in total disbelief. The crimson sparks slowly faded, returning to their original blue.

  He whispered to himself, barely audible, eyes wide with shock.

  “What… was that? I only…”

  Behind him, Moryo stepped closer and stopped at his side. His gaze remained fixed on Hambo’s fallen body as he spoke in a low, steady voice.

  “That… was Shrine Punch.”

  Suero turned to him, his voice trembling with confusion.

  “Shrine Punch?! What do you mean?”

  Moryo didn’t look away.

  “It’s a rare ability—a technique extremely difficult to master. But you just unleashed it. Which means the blue magic within you is far stronger than you realize.”

  Suero struggled to process it, memories of his former mentor Kamasi and the lessons of blue magic surfacing in his mind.

  “Yeah… he taught me the basics. But he never mentioned anything like this.”

  Moryo allowed himself a faint smile, his tone sharp and assured.

  “Maybe he didn’t think you were ready yet. Either way, it seems you’ve successfully neutralized Hambo.”

  But Suero felt no sense of victory.

  His gaze drifted back to Hambo as he asked quietly,

  “The rules were clear… no serious fighting. Did I just break them?”

  Moryo’s expression remained indifferent.

  “Rules?”

  He paused.

  “I think the situation now requires us to ignore all rules.”

  Before either of them could say another word, the barrier surrounding the arena trembled.

  A deep, unnatural hum echoed through the air, growing louder. The glowing lines that formed the barrier began to distort, as if being drawn toward a single central point.

  Suero noticed it first. His voice, laced with unease, was barely above a whisper.

  “The barrier… is it opening?”

  Moryo followed, his usual calm finally wavering.

  “This… isn’t part of the event… is it?”

  -

  All across the arena, the students began to notice the sudden change.

  In one corner, Jan and Baysal exchanged wary glances. Elsewhere, Kamyo and Rita stared at the barrier in confusion, while Veb and Alia remained silent—eyes sharp, tension clear in their gaze.

  The air grew heavy.

  The opening of the barrier wasn’t just a shift in scenery.

  It was an announcement.

  Something unexpected was about to happen.

  ---

  Outside the Arena

  Beth stood with a sly smile, watching as the barrier weakened. Beside her, Campeis and Darwin observed in silence, each with a different shade of anticipation.

  Breaking the quiet, Beth spoke with mocking amusement,

  “Well, would you look at that—the barrier’s open.”

  Campeis replied, his voice calm but firm,

  “Stick to the plan. You and Darwin distract the students while I slip into Mana Organization’s stronghold and retrieve the Containment Orb.”

  Beth let out a soft laugh, confidence dripping from her tone.

  “Sounds like an easy job for me.”

  Darwin, however, looked far less convinced. Doubt crept into his voice as he asked,

  “But how did Spailo know this event would be held here?”

  Campeis shrugged dismissively.

  “He studied here. He knows everything about this place.”

  Beth’s grin widened as she turned toward the arena, her steps filled with certainty.

  “Well then…”

  She leaned forward slightly.

  “Let the raid begin.”

  ---

  End of Chapter.