My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 1031: Dreams of the Past: The World Tournament (Part-9)

Chapter 1031: Dreams of the Past: The World Tournament (Part-9)

The glow faded. Nuada landed softly and turned his back as her body hit the soft-field enchantment.

"Out!" the proctor declared.

[Qin Shi Huang vs Fire Archer]

The Fire Archer stood tall on the far ridge of the arena, embers curling around his bowstring like living snakes. His eyes gleamed, and a flame-mark pulsed on his forehead.

He knocked three spirit arrows at once.

"Triple Flame Spiral!" he shouted.

Three glowing bolts arced high into the sky, then twisted midair, spinning downward in a deadly spiral.

Across the battlefield, Qin Shi Huang did not flinch.

He stood motionless in his emerald-trimmed uniform, sleeves fluttering faintly in the wind. The crowd watched in confusion.

He wasn’t summoning a sword.

He wasn’t dodging.

He wasn’t even moving.

Instead, he slowly lifted one palm. His voice rang with imperial command.

"Arcana Invocation: Imperial Wall – Jade Dragon Formation."

From the marble floor beneath his feet, a ripple spread out in an ancient geometric pattern.

Then—boom!

Jagged jade plates erupted from the ground around him—six at first, then twelve—interlocking in a hexagonal dome that shimmered with gold threads. Each tile bore the mark of a scaled dragon, as if they were the bones of some sleeping celestial serpent.

The arrows struck—

TINK!

TINK-TINK!

BOOM!

Explosions rippled, fire flashed—

But not a single jade plate cracked.

The smoke cleared to reveal Qin standing unscathed behind the wall. He lowered his hand.

The crowd gasped.

Across the field, the Fire Archer cursed and fired again—this time six arrows in rapid succession, all infused with blazing spirit energy.

But something changed.

This time, the jade wall didn’t just block.

It reacted.

As the arrows neared, the hexagonal plates tilted—angled—caught the arrows in mid-flight. Then, in perfect synchronization, they began to spin.

The spirit arrows spun too—flames whipping faster, redirected—

SNAP—SHOOM!

The jade plates launched them back, faster than they came.

The archer’s eyes widened in disbelief. He tried to roll out of the way—

KA-BOOM!

A burst of flame exploded at his feet. Smoke surged up, and when it cleared—

The Fire Archer lay collapsed, singed and groaning.

A second later, his badge glowed red.

"Out!" the proctor shouted.

[Bheema vs Earth Mage]

The Earth Mage cracked his knuckles and placed his palms on the ground.

"Summon: Stone Warden Golems."

The ground rumbled.

From twin circles of runes, two towering stone golems emerged—each ten feet tall, etched with ancient glyphs, their fists as big as boulders. Their footsteps thundered, shaking the arena floor.

The mage smirked. "Let’s see you get through that, brute."

Across the field, Bheema just grinned.

The feral glint in his eye had returned.

He cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and spread his arms.

Behind him, a growl rumbled.

A giant, shadowy wolf spirit emerged—muscles rippling, maw gaping wide with hunger.

"Arcana Soul Skill: Vrikodara Form."

The wolf leapt forward and fused into Bheema’s arms, coating them in pure berserker energy. His gauntlets expanded, veins lighting up with molten spirit aura. They didn’t just look heavier—they sounded like they wanted to tear the world apart.

"Alright, rocks. Let’s dance."

He sprinted forward, howling like a beast.

The first golem raised its arm to block.

Mistake.

Bheema slammed his fist dead center in its chest. The impact cracked the air.

BOOOOM!

The golem shattered into flying chunks, its torso blasted into gravel.

Before the debris even landed, the second golem tried to swing.

Bheema spun—shoulder-checking it at full speed.

The stone giant staggered back, stumbled—then collapsed in a heap.

The Earth Mage’s smirk vanished.

"Tch—Earth Wall!" he shouted.

A massive slab of reinforced stone erupted in front of him, thick as a fortress door.

Bheema didn’t slow down.

He reared back both fists—growling like his Arcana spirit—and punched forward with a roar.

"BREAK!"

CRACK—BOOM!!

The entire wall exploded outward, shards of stone flying in every direction like battlefield shrapnel. The force knocked the mage off his feet, covering his face in panic.

But Bheema was already there.

He grabbed the boy by the collar with one hand, lifting him clear off the ground like he weighed nothing.

"You and your garden tricks."

Then—WHAM!

He slammed the mage down into the stone floor, hard enough to crack tiles.

Silence.

The proctor blinked twice, then raised his hand—

"Out!"

[Yudhisthira vs Support Archer – Extended Battle]

A soft breeze fluttered through the arena as the two opponents faced each other—one a calm, dark-haired boy with golden armor accents and five floating rings glowing faintly behind him.

The other—a silver-haired elven girl, already with her bow drawn, her quiver humming with spirit-infused support arrows.

She whispered to herself, "Marking spell: Threaded Sight."

A web of glowing lines spread around the battlefield, letting her read every inch of movement and trajectory. Her support arrows weren’t just for damage—they could trap, slow, heal, bind.

She fired—three arrows, perfectly timed.

Yudhisthira raised his hand calmly.

"Soul Skill: Dharma Chakram."

The golden discs flashed into motion, forming a wide halo that swatted the arrows away mid-air, one after the other with pin-point precision.

He stepped forward—then vanished.

Whoosh—!

A gust of divine wind marked his disappearance. The girl gasped, frantically looking around.

From above, one chakram zoomed past her cheek—singing through the air like a divine flute.

She turned—only for another to sweep at her legs.

Every time she tried to line up a shot, a blinding sunlike disc curved past her, just enough to force her to dodge or step back. They weren’t trying to hit her.

They were controlling her.

"He’s herding me..." she realized, sweat on her brow.

Then Yudhisthira’s voice echoed from somewhere around her, calm but thunderous in tone.

"Final Soul Skill: Cycle of Truth."

The five chakrams rose above her, then descended in spiraling loops—forming five golden rings circling her vertically, like the orbit of heavenly bodies. Each emitted soft chimes and rays of shimmering light.

The archer’s knees wobbled. She gritted her teeth, tried to fire another shot—but the rings moved faster, shimmering with judgment.

"Move and they’ll strike..."

She clenched her jaw, then activated a soul sigil on her arm, lighting her arrows for a final attempt.

Just then—

Yudhisthira appeared inside the rings.

He simply walked through them.

As his body passed each glowing disc, they bent and rippled around him like golden waves, parting silently in reverence.

The archer gasped. "You’re... walking through your own skill?!"

He reached her.

One hand on her chest—right over the heart.

He looked her in the eye and whispered, soft and absolute—

"Game over."

The five chakrams collapsed inward all at once—then burst outward in a flash of golden light.

BOOM!

The archer’s bow snapped in half, her legs gave out, and she dropped to the floor unconscious.

The golden rings disappeared.

The proctor raised his hand.

"Out!"

[Beowulf vs Lead Archer]

This was the only fight that didn’t end fast.

The lead archer was good. Too good.

He fired arrows that changed direction midair. He blinked backward using Elven techniques. His Arcana was a falcon that guided his shots.

But Beowulf was... relentless.

Every dodge brought him closer.

Every arrow he blocked or batted aside.

And when he was finally close enough—

"Arcana Soul Form: Fenfang’s Embrace."

The wolf spirit merged into his blade. It growled along the steel.

Beowulf didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

He just swung his sword upward.

The falcon tried to intercept.

But Fenfang roared—and bit through it midair.

The archer’s bow broke. He tried to run—

—and got tackled, then knocked unconscious with the flat of the blade.

"Out!

One after another, all of them were out in just five minutes of battle.

And yet, the Heavenly Academy team hadn’t even once stood beside each other after the opening.

They walked back to the center now, one by one, brushing dust from their sleeves.

Qin Shi Huang sighed. "This doesn’t feel like a team win at all.

Bheema laughed. "They just weren’t good enough to handle five 1v1s."

Yudhisthira frowned but didn’t argue.

Nuada’s silver arm shimmered as it cooled down. "As long as we win."

The proctor raised his hand. "Victory to Heavenly Academy! Score: 2-1!"

The crowd erupted in cheers—and murmurs.

Some were in awe.

Others whispered warnings.

Because what they saw today wasn’t teamwork.

It was five kings in the making—who didn’t need each other.

The lamps flickered softly in one of the inn’s rooms, casting warm shadows on the faces gathered inside.

Everyone from Heavenly Academy’s main battle team sat together—some cross-legged on the floor, others perched against the walls or chairs. The air was quieter than usual. No sarcastic and loud jokes from Bheema. No small talk from Rael. No complaints from Qin. And no long discussions from Nuada. They just waited for what this instructor and their captain had to say, gathering them for a meeting.

It was Instructor Catherine who finally broke the silence.

"You all did incredibly well. Advancing to the knockout stages without losing any match isn’t something just any academy does. Not to mention, our opponents aren’t weak either," she began with a gentle but clear voice. "The Headmaster and your families will be proud. I want you all to take a moment to appreciate what you’ve achieved. Of course, there’s a lot to do, too."

There was a moment of nods and soft sighs.