Getting a Technology System in Modern Day-Chapter 785 The Zelvora

[A/N Sorry for the messy upload I had exams last week and needed to prepare for them.]

The arena returned to its customary silence, its vast expanse now eerily still. At most, it had hosted two occupants at a time during the matches, but now only one figure remained—a steadfast presence who had not left since stepping foot inside. It was the same person who had dominated from the start: Aron.

Aron stood in the center of the arena, patiently waiting for the mandatory twenty-minute rest period to pass. The break had been imposed by the AI referee, not for his benefit but to address a pressing issue. Although his previous explosion had been meticulously contained within his shield, some of the vibrations had rippled outward, impacting the Colosseum.

Given that several pieces of equipment were already running on backup systems due to his earlier bouts, the AI deemed it necessary to pause the proceedings. The downtime allowed for essential diagnostics to ensure everything was functioning properly before allowing for th next fight to take place.

Now, only the top three fighters remained, each possessing a racial ability capable of causing significant damage if Aron wasn’t cautious. Any misstep or underestimation of their abilities, especially if they used them in an unexpected manner, could make it nearly impossible for him to counter effectively.

The only fighter whose true threat remained unclear was the Xor’Vak. The available information described their primary abilities as shifting from a humanoid form into their “dragon” form and wielding control over one or more of the four basic elements—water, fire, air, and earth—depending on their affinity and the purity of their bloodline. While these abilities seemed straightforward, their position at the top of the Conclave suggested that the Xor’Vak had mastered their elemental powers to such an extraordinary degree that they were considered among the most dangerous of their kind. This mastery alone was enough to warrant their feared status.

…………….

"Based on what he has already shown, do you think he can defeat you?" came the inquiry through the Zelvora fighter’s mental network.

Xylor, currently seated in a small ship heading toward the Colosseum, took a moment before responding.

"That, I can’t say with certainty," he admitted. "Despite watching all his fights, there’s been no real test of his mental defences. It’s a complete unknown—a black hole in his abilities. He could be as strong in that domain as those Xor’Vak monsters, or he might be weak mentally, like most civilizations that rely heavily on physical strength."

His tone carried neither wariness nor calculated consideration—just a neutral delivery of information highlighting the Zelvora's unique ability to view situations from a third-person perspective, enabling them to remain rational and objective in most circumstances.

"Okay," came the brief response from the other side before the mental network fell silent once more. There was no need for motivational speeches or last-minute words of encouragement. If such measures had been necessary, there had been hours since the first fight to address them. Besides, they knew the fighter already possessed the highest level of motivation possible.

{Please prepare to enter the Colosseum,} announced the AI referee, its voice breaking the silence and signaling that it was time for him to head to the battlefield.

Without hesitation, he issued a simple command to the pilot. "Take me to the Colosseum," he said, fully prepared for the fight ahead.

……………..

{You may begin.}

As soon as the AI referee's announcement echoed through the Colosseum, Aron sprang into action. Unlike in his previous battles, where he often adopted a reactive stance, waiting for his opponents to make the first move, this time, he took the initiative. His intent was clear: end the fight swiftly and decisively.

But no plan is ever immune to unexpected twists. Before Aron could even deploy his second rune, he suddenly found himself encased in a massive, translucent bubble. The construct shimmered with a faint iridescent glow, its surface alive with undulating patterns that seemed to distort the surrounding light. It had materialized seemingly out of nowhere, as if summoned in an instant by the Xylor fighter.

Aron immediately recognized that being trapped inside the bubble was far from advantageous, though he had no clear idea of its full effects yet. Determined to escape, he attempted to cover some distance. However, with each step, it felt as though he was wading through thick gel—his movements sluggish, and his progress limited. His efforts only yielded about one percent of the expected output, which caught him off guard.

Not one to dwell on surprises, Aron quickly adjusted. He poured an enormous amount of mana into his movements—a hundred times more than he normally would. With the surge of energy, he started to make progress, inching closer to the bubble's outer edge. But the closer he got, the more his movements became stifled. The resistance intensified, and his expected output decreased, forcing him to expend even more mana than before.

It quickly became clear: the bubble's power was strongest at the edges, turning the outer rim into an almost impenetrable barrier. The center, where the Zelvora fighter was most likely positioned, seemed to offer more freedom, making it clear that this was no mere confinement—it was a carefully crafted prison, meant to lock him in with the Zelvora, ensuring a controlled confrontation.

…………….

“Now this is what I call difficult,” Aron muttered to Nova as he pushed more mana into his flying rune, the effort beginning to wear on him.

{Yes, this is something we never accounted for in our preparations,} Nova replied, her tone reflecting the unexpected nature of the situation.

“Any ideas on what to do next? Or should I just keep pumping more mana to try and break out? I don’t know if there’s just another layer of this waiting for me outside,” he asked, hoping Nova might have a better perspective, or any useful information from the live stream she was monitoring, to prevent him from wasting unnecessary energy if more traps lay ahead.

{Unfortunately, I don’t have access to that data,} Nova responded, her voice tinged with regret.

“Look’s like ……………” amidst his response his words trailed off as something clicked in his mind. Mid-sentence, he paused, his instincts kicking in. His voice lowered, sharp and cautious. “Who are you?”