1,000,000 Karma: My Reward Is a Quiet Life-Chapter 63: The Champion’s Stride, Part Two

"THIS IS A BATTLE OF HEROES KNOWN ACROSS THE WORLD...BEGIN–!!!"

Without wasting a moment, Sylvan drew her blade from the stone, unearthing bolts of jet-black electricity that lunged out like serpents.

From Tederich’s hand, a burst of wind expelled forward with an intensity that stunned the ears of everybody in attendance. The simple, but absurd degree of magic entirely dismissed the dark lightning, leaving dust settling throughout the battlegrounds.

"Phew," Tederich playfully exhaled. "I don’t want that Curse Lightning touching me. I’ve heard so much as a light zap gives you the runs for a week."

Sylvan didn’t take any sort of liking to the joke made at the expense of her craft, silently drawing her sword back as she sprinted right for the veteran. A look of intense focus inhabited her slit irises as she exhaled sharply, arriving within striking distance as she brought her scarlet boot down, crushing the stone beneath–

In that moment caught between one second to the other, every instinct engraved in her body hardened by years of adventuring argued against her: "Retreat!"

Heeding her body’s advice, Sylvan halted her own attack, instead leaping back and landing with a huff. It was a confusing exchange for the crowd, with murmurs of just what exactly had happened.

"You felt that too, didn’t you?" Otto asked.

"Yeah," Noah nodded, intently watching. "If she would’ve stepped even an inch closer, she would’ve been shredded."

There were some booing breaking through the crowd, though most were still favorable towards the march.

"Seriously, I didn’t pay to watch them not fight!" A spectator complained.

"C’mon! Let’s see some action!"

"Fight!"

The polarized crowd was entirely ignored by the scarred woman, who kept her distance while studying her opponent. Sylvan clenched her teeth in frustration, finding the reigning champion’s casual expression completely infuriating.

’He hasn’t moved an inch yet. This guy...He’s taking me for a joke. Champion or not, I won’t stand for that crap,’ Sylvan thought.

Above her head, the began rotating the claymore, increasing the spin rapidly as strands of dark lightning began coiling in the air. Along the magical barriers separating the audience from the fight, the accursed element scraped along the ethereal boundaries.

"...Decay and rot, O’Shalnax!" Sylvan invoked, keeping the claymore spinning above her head.

At the call of the empowered name, the black lightning rose before curving downward into continuous poles anchored into the ground. In six spots spread in a circle around the champion, the anchored element emitted a foul, black field of mana in a three meter radius.

"YOU WOULDN’T WANT TO TOUCH THAT, FOLKS! EVEN THE CHAMPION MIGHT HAS TO BE WARY OF SYLVAN’S CURSE LIGHTNING!" The words of the announcer echoed.

The six anchored points of the cursed element left no more than a meter gap between each if Tederich intended on closing the distance.

"Limiting my movement options, eh? Not a bad strategy," Tederich looked around at the black air pouring off the lightning poles. "Next, you’re going to bombard me with lightning from afar, I’m guessing?"

Sylvan only laughed at the assessment, "Congrats, ya figured it out! Won’t do you any good, though!"

The muscle-clad woman leapt up, having a clear view past the anchors of accursed lightning as she pointed her sword right at the defending champion. From the tip of the onyx claymore, a single bolt parted into three spears.

Each bolt resembled the head of a dragon; the erratic, sharp element curved around before shooting down, locked on the position of the stationary veteran. In the split-second before the aimed lightning made contact, Tederich raised his right hand–

FWOOSH

The heads of the draconic bolts were cut through, dismissing the accursed element in one, quick move. It didn’t look like Tederich did anything more than raise his hand, yet the imposing magecraft was dismissed like a buzzing fly.

"Tch...!" Sylvan clicked her tongue, landing on the ground.

More than ever, Noah found himself engrossed in the true nature of the champion’s strength, unsure of what to make of it.

"You’re knowledgeable in the area of wind magic, right? Mind telling me what that was?" Noah asked the archer beside him, not looking away from the arena.

Otto was focused as well, rubbing his chin intently, "I’m just as dumbfounded as you are. It’s way too fast, precise, powerful...There’s no wasted movement whatsoever. Not to mention, to overwhelm a special element like cursed lightning...He really lives up to his title."

["The Uncrowned Saint...Many times, Tederich has approached the Great Spirit of Wind in hopes of obtaining true favor. Many times, he has challenged the Saint of Wind in hopes of obtaining his title and blessing for himself.

All times, Tederich has fallen short."]

Tirelessly, the swordswoman swung her claymore, unleashing bolts of the decaying lightning. Sylvan guided each shot, curving them around, attempting to send them through the ground, all in an attempt to catch the reigning champion.

Without taking a step, Tederich casually motioned his wrist, dispelling each attempt to harm him with perfected wind.

"EVEN IF IT’S THE CHAMPION SHE’S AGAINST, SEEING SYLVAN’S MAGIC BE COMPLETELY NULLIFIED IS HARD TO BELIEVE...! IS THIS GOING TO BE A TRULY ONE-SIDED MATCH?!"

While entirely focused on the match, Noah was surprised to find the empty seat to his left be suddenly occupied by none other than a man with orange fox ears atop his head.

"Faah, you really got me good, didn’tcha?" Lacian said with an exhale, lounging against the seat, slapping his bandaged torso. "Had two broken ribs and a cracked sternum, docs told me. Patched me up quickly, though."

"Err, yeah. Glad to see you’re alright–" Noah remarked.

Lacian immediately continued talking, watching the fight, "Lemme tell ya’, Tederich is the real deal. Last year, I got matched up against him in one of the tournaments."

"How’d that go?" Otto asked curiously, leaning forward to join in.

"Uhh, who the hell is this guy?" Lacian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Good question," Noah shrugged.

The elf protested, "Hey! Don’t act like you don’t know me!"

Lacian looked a bit disgruntled recalling his bout with the champion, "Wasn’t much of a fight, if I’m being honest. I didn’t land a single hit...Tederich’s defense is impenetrable."

In Noah’s mind, he considered the fact that Lacian didn’t exactly manage a hit on him either, though he neglected to bring that up outloud.

"If you make it far enough, you’ll see for yourself," Lacian said, kicking his feet up on the wall separating the stands from the battlegrounds. "It’s not any fun fighting that guy."