Chapter 363
The moment the spell activated, a thick pulse of dark mana surged forward and struck Uga square in the face. His charging momentum halted—not because of pain, but confusion.
Michael’s breathing was sharp now. He didn’t waste a second. As Uga’s head turned left, then right, Michael knew the curse had worked.
Uga was blind.
Temporarily.
But it was enough.
Or so he thought.
Michael didn’t approach. He wasn’t stupid. Uga’s raw power was on a completely different level now.
Instead, he darted sideways, weaving around the edge of the arena.
And yet—
Even blinded, Uga still fought like a beast.
He sniffed the air. Tilted his head.
Then turned straight toward Michael’s position.
Michael cursed under his breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Uga’s body tensed.
Then he charged.
Not recklessly—instinctively.
Michael ducked under the first punch, barely avoiding the wild swing that passed overhead. He rolled, planted his palm, and kicked upward, pushing himself away before Uga’s foot slammed down where he’d just been.
Boom!
A crater exploded beneath the stomp.
The Blind Curse only lasted seconds, and those seconds were running out fast.
But Michael had already moved, weaving a glowing magic circle into the air again.
The next spell was ready the moment Uga’s sight flickered back.
“Mana Arrow!”
Unlike the last barrage, this one exploded on impact—Michael had pumped more mana, overcharging the arrows until they shimmered like condensed stars.
The first struck Uga’s chest. Boom! A burst of force exploded, knocking him back slightly.
The second hit his leg. Boom!
The third, his shoulder. Boom!
Dust clouded the arena as shockwaves rippled outward, the sheer magical force enough to make the arena barrier create a screaming sound.
But Uga didn’t fall.
He stood in the smoke, chest heaving, skin steaming, eyes blazing with excitement.
Then he laughed.
“More! Use more!” he shouted. “Magic strong! Fun!”
Michael’s eyes narrowed.
High humans greatest advantage was their affinity with mana, their mana pool and their magic.
Michael had leaned on that advantage.
But Uga—
He tanked magic.
Michael’s breath came in quick bursts. Still, he stood tall, trying to calm the pounding of his heart.
Then… he stopped.
Just like that—his movement ceased.
His arms fell to his sides.
He straightened, head tilted.
And across the cracked arena floor, Uga noticed.
The wild brute blinked and froze in his steps.
He tilted his head like a confused animal, sensing something strange. Michael wasn’t in a stance. He wasn’t readying a spell or preparing a counter.
He was… relaxed?
Uga blinked again. “You tired?” he asked, genuinely unsure.
Michael chuckled. “Not tired,” he said. “Just wondering…”
He took a step forward.
“Are you having fun?”
Uga blinked rapidly—then nodded vigorously. “Yes! Much fun! Best fun!”
Michael smiled faintly. “Good. Then… I’m sorry in advance.”
Uga furrowed his brows. “Huh?”
Michael’s gaze sharpened.
“You asked for it. But if I want to win this….” He sighed, flexing his fingers. “Then I can’t keep playing around.”
His voice wasn’t cold.
But there was weight behind it.
His tone had changed—more serious. There was no anger, no hatred—just purpose.
Uga’s smile faltered slightly, the confusion in his expression deepening. But he didn’t move.
Michael’s heart was heavy.
The turn of events had caught him off guard.
He wasn’t arrogant—but he knew the truth of his strength. In this kingdom, where Grand Tier was about the peak, there weren’t many who could pose a threat to him.
And yet…
He looked at Uga—the wild brute.
Uga was here.
Pushing him back.
Matching him blow for blow.
It reminded Michael that invincibility was a myth.
There was always someone stronger.
Or at least someone with the potential to be.
But instead of despair, he felt something else.
Excitement.
This wasn’t discouraging.
It was thrilling.
However, now—now he had to stop holding back.
Michael took a deep breath and extended his hand toward the ground.
A swirl of greenish-black energy spiraled beneath him. It pulsed, then spread, forming a dark, glowing magic circle inscribed with runes.
The air grew cold.
A low hum vibrated through the arena floor.
Uga’s eyes widened as he sensed something unnatural.
And then—
A figure rose from the circle.
A tall, armored figure, a hood over their head, and a massive spear clutched in one hand.
The armour on its body was similar to the one Michael had on.
Spartan.
“Let’s turn this into a real fight,” Michael muttered.
Uga’s eyes gleamed. “Friend?”
“Something like that,” Michael replied.
The crowd had long since fallen into stunned silence.
From the very first blow exchanged between Uga and Michael, the arena had been erupting in gasps and shouts—but that was then. Now, all that remained was a deep, breathless awe.
Even the nobles seated in the high balconies—those proud, pampered heirs who usually scoffed at commoners—were no longer sneering.
They leaned forward, gripping their seats, forgetting status, forgetting face.
Every time Uga swung and Michael dodged, someone flinched.
Every time Michael cast a spell, the crowd braced for the explosion.
It was chaos—controlled only by the sheer disbelief of what they were witnessing.
And then came Spartan.
When the undead warrior rose from the ground like a shadow given form, the coliseum erupted again.
But it wasn’t a cheer.
It was shock.
“Th-That…” someone cried. “Did he just… summon someone?”
“What sort of magic is this?”
Even the commentator—usually so full of flair—was left speechless.
At this moment, he was going through a lot.
The four strongest participants…
Why were they all this powerful?
Anyone with half a brain could see it—these four had surpassed the Advanced stage by a wide margin. Their combat power wasn’t something you expected from their age. No… not even close.
It wasn’t just shock or awe that gripped the commentator now.
It was fear.
His gaze flicked to the arena barrier.
The blue-robed officials were no longer visible.
But the barrier… one that should have broken under the sheer force of the previous clash… was still intact.
That could only mean one thing.
Unparalleled Under The Heavens