The words carried clearly across the reinforced platform and into the stunned silence of the arena. Then the silence broke.
A wave of disbelieving noise rolled through the spectator stands like a physical force. Students who had been leaning forward in tension now stared with open mouths.
Some covered their faces.
Others let out short, incredulous laughs that bordered on hysteria.
"He’s just toying with him..."
"That is Adrian... one of Gloria’s strongest 2nd-years, and Gray is treating him like a training dummy."
"He’s not even using any technique or even unsheathing his sword. Gray’s literally beating a multi-elemental swordsman with his bare hands and is even complaining about being bored."
In the lower student sections, the commentary grew louder and more chaotic by the second.
A group of 3rd-years from a neutral academy kept replaying the last few exchanges in their minds, unable to reconcile the gap they were witnessing.
Even some of Gloria’s own eliminated students in the waiting area looked away, unable to watch the continued one-sided display.
The psychological weight of the third trial was being reasserted in the most humiliating way possible.
In the VIP section, the reactions were more restrained, but no less sharp.
Several nobles sat frozen, expressions caught between professional evaluation and pure disbelief. One older lord muttered that the physical difference alone was already absurd. Another simply shook his head and said nothing.
Aurora, however, turned her head slightly toward Gloria with a slow, delighted smile.
"My, my," she said in a light, carrying voice that was clearly meant to be heard by those nearby.
"Wasn’t this the same Adrian you spoke so highly of during the earlier stages? I distinctly remember you mentioning how talented he was... how his multi-elemental swordsmanship made him one of the more promising 2nd-years in the entire Exchange."
She rested her chin lightly against the back of one hand, her eyes shining mockingly as she watched Gray casually walk after the still-scrambling figure on the platform.
"It seems the ’promising talent’ is having a little trouble staying on his feet. How unexpected."
Gloria’s golden eyes remained fixed on the stage, her expression carved from ice. A single vein pulsed faintly at her temple.
She did not answer immediately, but the cold pressure around her seat had grown noticeably denser.
Aurora’s smile only widened at her reaction.
He stepped forward, placed one boot squarely on the side of the possessed Adrian’s head, and applied pressure.
The reinforced stone of the arena floor cracked beneath the force.
A small crater formed around the point of contact, fine fractures spider-webbing outward as the weight of Gray’s casual stance pressed the golden-eyed vessel deeper into the ground.
"I’m waiting..." Gray stated flatly and clearly audible across the sudden hush.
"Use your power."
The body beneath his foot twitched once.
The dulled golden eyes stared upward, still clouded by residual fear of the silver-haired woman who had briefly appeared.
Gray’s expression did not change.
’Is there any trigger word to wake him up?’ he asked inwardly.
[Trigger word... uhhh... oh yeah.]
Jasmine’s voice carried a rare note of dark amusement.
[Cuck.]
’Cuck...?’
[He had three wives, and all of them cheated on him.]
’Oh...’
Gray’s lips curled up into a slow, sinister smile.
He leaned down slightly, still resting his weight on the god’s borrowed head, and spoke the word with deliberate clarity.
"Are you going to keep being humiliated...? You really are a damned cuck as you don’t even have the guts to fight back."
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The effect was instantaneous.
A violent, ancient rage detonated inside the vessel.
The dulled golden eyes flared into blinding, molten gold.
A crushing aura exploded outward from Adrian’s body with such force that Gray’s boot was thrown upward and the small crater beneath them deepened into a proper depression.
The four elemental affinities that had been sputtering weakly along the discarded sword roared back to life and flooded the entire platform in a chaotic, overlapping storm of fire, water, wind, and earth.
The air itself screamed.
"Phiueeww..." Gray whistled.
Adrian’s body rose into the air as if pulled by invisible strings. Golden light poured from his eyes, his mouth, even the seams of his academy uniform.
The previously suppressed halo above his head ignited into a full, radiant crown of shifting wind and light.
His physical presence swelled with power so dense that the reinforced barriers around the platform began to glow under the strain.
Late King-stage.
The jump in strength was so abrupt and so complete that the entire arena felt it.
In the stands, the earlier noise of shock and laughter died in a single collective gasp.
"What... what is that aura?!"
"That’s not a 2nd-year! That’s not even peak Grandmaster!"
"Late King-stage, how is a student putting out Late King-stage pressure?!"
Professors and upper-year students across every academy section shot to their feet. Some activated defensive techniques purely on instinct.
Others simply stared, faces pale, as the pressure continued to climb and stabilize at a level that should have been impossible inside the tournament’s restrictions.
In the VIP section, the reaction was even sharper.
Several nobles stood up outright.
One elderly duke’s wine glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor, completely ignored. Gloria had risen halfway from her seat, golden eyes wide with genuine alarm for the first time in the entire Exchange.
The Emperor’s expression finally changed as his gaze locked onto the golden-crowned figure with sudden, intense focus.
The Northern Duchess’s amused smile vanished, replaced by open surprise. Even the Saintess’s calm silver eyes narrowed with clear interest and caution.
Aurora’s earlier teasing expression faded into something more serious, though a spark of fascination still burned in her red eyes as she watched the transformation.
On the platform, the god wearing Adrian’s body finally looked at Gray with pure, undiluted hatred.
The fear that had paralyzed him moments earlier had been burned away by the older, deeper humiliation of the word that had been spoken.
Swoosh...!
Wind howled around him in violent spirals.
Stones lifted from the cracked platform and shattered under the pressure. The four elements no longer merely circulated; instead, they completely obeyed.
Zephyrion, the former God of Shifting Winds, was awake.
And he was furious at Gray.
Clap, clap!
"What a dramatic transformation..."
Gray commented casually.
Zephyrion answered with a scream of pure elemental fury.
The Late King-stage aura around Adrian’s body detonated outward.
Wind blades sharp enough to cut reinforced stone screamed across the platform from every direction.
Fire spiraled into the currents, water condensed into high-pressure lances, and chunks of earth ripped free from the already-cracked floor to form a swirling storm of projectiles.
Instantly, Gray’s figure blurred.
"[✧Swap✧]"
He exchanged positions with a fragment of shattered stone behind the god.
The entire elemental storm crashed into empty air and tore a deep trench across the far side of the platform.
Before Zephyrion could reorient, Gray stepped in from the new angle and drove a palm strike into the ribs, hard enough to fold the vessel sideways and send it skidding, yet carefully limited so no saint-level pressure leaked out.
Zephyrion snarled and swept both arms wide.
A turbulent sphere of violently shifting winds expanded, trying to lock down the surrounding space and prevent further displacement. Microscopic blades filled the air.
"[✧Swap✧]"
Gray exchanged with a current of the god’s own wind that had already passed behind him.
He reappeared at Zephyrion’s flank and drove a knee into the lower back, forcing the body to one knee.
Thump!
A short elbow followed against the temple.
Each impact remained precise and deliberately restrained, kept within the upper range of what an abnormally strong king-stage fighter might produce.
The god poured more temporary authority into the vessel. The Late King-stage aura spiked. Four crude elemental dragons formed and lunged at once.
Gray did not meet them.
He vanished and reappeared three times in rapid succession, each swap placing him just outside the biting range of the next construct while the dragons smashed into one another.
On the third exchange he stepped into the brief opening, caught Adrian’s wrist, and used the god’s own momentum to hurl the body across the platform.
Zephyrion crashed through a remaining barrier pillar in a spray of stone and elemental light.
The battered vessel forced itself back to its feet. Golden light still poured from the eyes and the unstable halo, but the earlier overwhelming confidence had cracked.
Gray landed lightly and rolled one shoulder.
He had no intention of revealing his Early Saint-stage cultivation.
At least, not here.
It was enough to handle a Late King-stage divine descent through superior positioning, timing, and the repeated use of [Swap].
He raised one hand and made a small beckoning motion.
"Again."
[...That Swap ability is broken.]
’Hmn? Why are you saying that now?’
[How come it has ZERO cooldown after maxing it?! It doesn’t make any sense!]
At those words, Gray’s lips curled up.
’Are you jealous that you didn’t have such an ability?!’
[Tsk... Just focus on the battle.]
’Will do...’
Chapter 398: Inter-Academy Tournament (XLX)
8 min read