Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World-Chapter 97: Comeback?

The sneering voices that had mocked the Knights’ weakness fell mute, their mouths agape as Fabian lay crumpled on the ground, blood staining his robe.

Even the Knights, stunned by the upset, held their breath as the weight of Lyra’s victory sank in.

The silence shattered as Mrs. Georgina’s voice sliced through the air.

"Ventus extraho!"

A delicate gust of wind swirled around Fabian, gently dislodging the arrow from his back.

Blood trickled from the wound, but before it could worsen, she chanted again: "Lumen coagula!"

A warm, golden light enveloped the injury, clotting the blood and sealing the wound with a faint shimmer. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Fabian groaned. His face was contorted in pain but he was no longer bleeding.

Instructor Xana strode forward, her expression a mix of concern and barely concealed frustration. She hoisted Fabian to his feet, supporting his weight as he limped off the square, his earlier arrogance replaced by a grimace.

Mrs. Georgina cleared her throat, breaking the lingering tension.

"Knight Number 17 wins! Mage Number 1 is defeated. Mage Number 2, you’re next!"

Her tone was measured, but the announcement sparked a ripple of murmurs among the spectators, the Knights’ side stirring with cautious hope.

From the Mages’ line, a boy with jet-black hair stepped forward, his tall, lean build exuding quiet confidence.

His dark eyes scanned Lyra, assessing her with a predator’s focus. He took his position at the square’s edge, his posture relaxed but ready.

Lyra stood opposite him as calm as before with her bow gripped tightly.

It was a big moment for both sides. The Mages were eager for redemption, while the Knights prayed that Lyra could maintain her momentum.

Mrs. Georgina raised her hand. "Begin!"

Lyra acted instantly, her movements a blur of practiced precision. She nocked two arrows on her bowstring, releasing one with a sharp ~TWANG~, the projectile slicing through the air toward the black-haired boy.

’I don’t know his affinity, so I can’t take risks.’

The boy didn’t flinch, his voice steady as he chanted, "Celeritas surgit!"

Lightning crackled at his boots, electric arcs dancing across the grass as he zipped to the side, the arrow missing him completely.

The arrow glowed white and it shifted to pursue him, just as it had with Fabian.

’The boy remained unfazed, as he had expected such move, so he chanted again, "Celeritas surgit!"

Another burst of lightning propelled him out of the arrow’s path and the crowd gasped, the Mages cheering as he evaded the projectile.

But Adrian, watching closely, noticed something else. ’He’s not just dodging,’ he thought. ’He’s closing the distance.’

The boy’s evasions were tactical, each lightning-fueled dash bringing him nearer to Lyra’s position.

The arrow chased him relentlessly, forcing him to cast the spell three times, but Lyra’s control soon faltered and the arrow dropped harmlessly on the floor.

She didn’t give the boy any chance, immediately firing the second arrow with desperate speed.

The boy, anticipating the shot, chanted, "Celeritas surgit!" and sidestepped, causing the arrow to whiz past him.

Lyra reached for another arrow, her fingers trembling with haste, but the boy was already too close.

With a final chant, "Celeritas surgit!" lightning surged beneath his boots, and he closed the gap in a flash, his leg snapping out in a brutal kick.

The strike connected with Lyra’s stomach, a sickening ~THUD~ echoing across the square as she fell down.

The boy didn’t stop, stomping on her abdomen with relentless force, his boots crackling with residual lightning.

Lyra coughed as her face remained contorted in pain, her bow clattering uselessly beside her.

Mrs. Georgina’s voice roared, "Enough!" Her aura flared, a sharp pulse that forced the boy to step back.

"That was unnecessary!" she snapped. The boy raised his hands and his expression feigned innocence.

"I’m sorry, ma’am. It wasn’t on purpose."

Master Von rushed to Lyra’s side, his face a mask of fury as he lifted her gently before carrying her off the square.

Karl, standing just ahead of Adrian, was fuming at the boy’s acts.

"Bro, did you see that? He did that shit on purpose! She was already down, and he kept going like that!"

"Yeah," Adrian replied quietly after a few seconds. "I saw it."

The Mages were retaliating for Fabian’s defeat, aiming to crush the Knights’ morale with brute force.

Mrs. Georgina’s voice cut through the tension. "Mage Number 2 wins. Knight Number 18, you’re next!"

Karl’s grin returned.

"Finally, I’ve been waiting to give these brats a beating."

He twirled his spear casually in his hands with effortless grace as he strode toward the square, his confidence standing out amidst the Knights’ gloom.

Adrian watched with high expectations for his roommate, especially now that Karl had mastered mana channeling.

’I wonder how many he’ll take out.’

As Karl reached the square’s edge, grinning broadly, the Mages began murmuring.

"How long is this one gonna last?" one sneered.

"Bet he’s down in ten seconds," another scoffed.

Karl’s grin only widened, unfazed by their taunts. He planted his feet with his spear held loosely and his eyes locked on the black-haired boy, who stood confidently.

Mrs. Georgina signaled the start. "Begin!"

The boy didn’t hesitate, chanting, "Celeritas surgit!" His boots crackled with electricity, and he zipped forward in a blur of speed aimed at Karl.

Karl, undaunted by his move, joined him, similarly approaching his opponent. While his speed was above average, it was obvious that the Lightning boy was faster, but Karl knew that shouldn’t matter.

As they closed, the boy lashed out with a kick, but Karl read the move instantly, angling his spear to catch the boy’s leg mid-strike.

With a deft twist, he redirected the momentum, adding more force and mana to throw the boy to the ground with a ~THUD~.

The throw was so strong that dust rose above where the boy had fell, and he screamed in pain.

Karl ignored his screams and maintained his grin, pointing his spear at the boy’s throat to show everyone his victory.

The entire exchange lasted mere seconds, a blur of skill that left the crowd stunned.

Mrs. Georgina’s voice rang out. "Knight Number 18 wins! Mage Number 3, you’re next!"

The field erupted as the Knights roared with renewed vigor and their morale surged.

The boy remained on the ground for a while as his back was in serious pain, before Instructor Xana had to walk up and carry him off stage in embarrassment.

The Mages on the benches muttered consolations to themselves. "It won’t be the same with Diana," one insisted. "She’ll destroy him."

The lightning boy might have been the second strongest of the Mages, but it was obvious he wouldn’t fare well against close combat Knights, as his spell didn’t give him any ranged offensive capabilities.

Diana soon stepped into the square with a confident posture, her white hair catching the breeze.

She spared a glance at the lightning boy who was being carried away by Instructor Xana and muttered, "I should have taken your spot to save us this embarrassment."

Mrs. Georgina signaled the start. "Begin!"

Diana acted swiftly: "Ventus secare!"

A blade of compressed wind sliced through the air, aimed at Karl’s chest.

Karl didn’t bother to dodge. He made his spear to spin in a blur of motion, imbued with mana.

The wind blade struck the spear’s shaft, its force diverted in a gust that ruffled his hair but left him unscathed.

Diana’s eyes narrowed, and she chanted again, "Ventus secare!" Another wind blade followed.

Karl repeated his trick, his spear a whirlwind that dispersed the spell’s energy.

Diana didn’t stop at just that. She kept on chanting another wind blade each time she finished one.

’The spell’s strong,’ Karl thought, feeling the strain in his muscles. Each deflection taxed his arms, but he pressed forward, closing the distance step by step.

The crowd watched, mesmerized by his defiance, whispers spreading about his technique. ’How’s he doing that?’ a Mage muttered, unable to fathom Karl’s skill.

Unbeknownst to them, the process wasn’t easy for Karl and his muscles burned with each deflection, the mana-infused spear amplifying his strength but demanding precision.

’I’m almost there,’ he thought with absolute focus. His plan was to continue until he got within Diana’s range to end the fight, and he could see the plan working out.

But Karl wasn’t the only one strategizing. Diana, noticing his approach, shifted tactics tok.

Her voice rang out after Karl had reached the required five meters for her spell to prove useful,

"Terrae tremor!"

The ground beneath Karl quaked, a violent tremor that threw him off balance, his knees buckling as he struggled to stay upright.

As Karl stumbled, Diana chanted again, "Ventus secare!"

A wind blade hurtled toward him, its edge gleaming with deadly intent. She began another chant, "Ventus—" preparing a follow-up in case he recovered.

At that moment it looked like all hope was lost for Karl, as he was falling already and couldn’t stand up in time to block the air blade.

Diana was was also another spell in case he decided to commit to stabilizing himself. Everyone thought it was game over for Karl at that moment...

But Karl had other plans.

With a roar, he stabbed his spear into the trembling earth, channeling a surge of mana into the weapon.

The ground steadied around the spear’s tip, and Karl used it as a pivot, kicking his legs upward in a fluid motion.

The move catapulted him into the air and his body soared in a graceful arc.

Adrian immediately noticed the move from their duel, except that this time it had gotten better.

He leapt so high into the air that the crowd had to stretch their necks upward to track him, awestruck as Karl flew toward Diana.

Her wind blade missed, slicing harmlessly through the air where he’d been.

Before she could react, Karl landed, his spear swinging in a crushing arc.

The shaft struck Diana’s legs with bone-jarring force, sweeping her off her feet and she hit the ground with a loud ~THUD~.

Karl didn’t stop there, pointing the spear’s tip at her throat in an instant to declare his victory.

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