MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

With a warm yet enigmatic smile, the Overseer addressed the champions.

"I must admit, you never cease to surprise me. For that, I extend my deepest gratitude"

His words, however, elicited no response.

The champions remained unfazed, their expressions unreadable.

Having lived for almost a millennium, they were no strangers to manipulation.

Each was a master tactician, a schemer of unparalleled wit.

They had long since sensed the Overseer's underlying intent, his thirst for chaos.

Gratitude, in his hands, could be nothing more than a calculated move, another piece in a grander design.

And so, none of them accepted his words at face value.

"Shall we commence the battle? The semifinals begin now"

The Overseer declared, his voice laced with anticipation.

With a theatrical flourish, he clapped his hands, sending a ripple of energy through the air.

The ancient screen flickered to life once more, its glow pulsing with an eerie resonance.

One by one, names began to vanish, erased from existence as if they had never been.

When the flickering ceased, only three names remained, etched in luminous script:

NULL ANTHONY

LUCIAN DARKHEART

AAANINJA CHRONISYNTH ETERNOS

"These are the only three names that remain"

The Overseer announced, his voice carrying a note of amusement.

"And I must say, it is quite the surprise. Two undefeated humans standing at the pinnacle of this tournament, an anomaly in itself. But for one of them to still be only seventeen? Now that is truly outrageous"

There was a subtle shift in his tone, an insinuation woven into his words.

These two humans were no ordinary prodigies; they harbored secrets, advantages beyond sheer talent.

"And then, we have the third, a Celestial. The only one among the three to have tasted defeat"

The Overseer's gaze flickered toward Aaaninja, a sly smile curling at the edges of his lips.

He was intrigued, already speculating on what abilities the Celestial might have awakened after his True Enlightenment.

"Now, the semifinal match will be between the Celestial and one of the humans"

The Overseer's voice echoed through the arena as he snapped his fingers.

Aaaninja's name remained still, unshaken, while Anthony and Lucian's names spun rapidly, flickering like a roulette wheel deciding their fate.

The air grew thick with anticipation.

Though the spectators remained silent, their excitement was palpable.

Their focus, however, was on the Celestial.

They were certain of one thing, he would win.

But deep within the depths of their hearts, a question lingered, one they dared not voice.

Would the Celestial suffer another defeat if he faced Anthony?

Like a shadow creeping at the edges of their thoughts, the doubt remained, unspoken yet ever present.

And then, the screen froze.

The screen came to an abrupt halt, the names settling into place.

A single matchup blazed across the ancient screen:

AAANINJA CHRONISYNTH ETERNOS VS LUCIAN DARKHEART

The opponent was set.

All eyes turned to Lucian.

They had watched him cut through the competition with effortless precision, dismantling every top tier race he had faced.

Not once had he faltered.

Not a single injury had marred his form.

Since the Starborn Tournament began, he had never staggered, never run out of mana, never shown the slightest trace of exhaustion.

And yet, for all his dominance, he remained an enigma.

His origins were a mystery, shrouded in secrecy.

None among them had the means to uncover the truth, for the rules of the Starborn Tournament had severed their connections to the outside world.

The champions could only speculate, trapped in the silence of their own unanswered questions.

"Whoever wins this match will advance to the final… and face Null Anthony"

The Overseer's voice carried a thrill of anticipation, his excitement evident.

Lucian's gaze flickered toward the screen, his name appearing before anyone else's.

A slow, confident smile spread across his lips.

His heartbeat quickened.

His blood surged with exhilaration.

'Finally'

His fingers curled into fists as his mind raced with satisfaction.

'It's time. After I win this match, I'll shower the author with some gifts'

With that thought, Lucian rose from his seat.

Then, without hesitation, he stepped forward, plummeting from his lofty perch in the sky.

Aaaninja descended shortly after Lucian, both warriors now standing mere meters apart.

They locked eyes, the tension obvious between them, as if each was waiting for some unseen signal to begin.

In the delegate area, Riven turned his gaze toward the battlefield, his eyes fixed on his son.

"Our sons finally meet, Zachary"

He said, a smile spreading across his face.

Zachary, sitting at another direction, nodded thoughtfully.

His voice was laced with a knowing tone, a subtle recognition of the history shared between him and Riven.

"True. I wonder if they will continue our rivalry"

He mused, the unspoken understanding between the two clear.

The delegates' ears twitched at Zachary's words, their curiosity piqued.

Some exchanged furtive glances, their minds racing to decipher the deeper meaning beneath his seemingly casual remark.

Was there more to his words than met the eye?

On the battlefield, the atmosphere was charged with an electric tension.

Lucian and Aaaninja stood poised, each a study in perfect stillness, their eyes locked on one another.

The silence stretched on, hanging heavy in the air, as if the world itself held its breath, waiting for the inevitable clash.

Then, breaking the silence, Aaaninja spoke, his voice smooth and measured, as calm as a still lake.

"You know, I could always feel your gaze upon me, your thoughts, your emotions. Do you know me?"

Despite his eyes being perpetually closed, Aaaninja's words carried the weight of certainty.

His entire being radiated a profound tranquility, yet beneath the surface, his senses were acutely aware, perceiving everything in real time.

Even with his eyes closed, he could see more than most could with their eyes wide open.

Lucian, however, did not respond.

He remained unmoved, his posture unwavering.

His gaze did not falter, nor did he blink, as if he were made of stone, silent, inscrutable.

"From the very beginning, I could tell you wanted to battle me"

Aaaninja continued, his voice steady and composed.

"And yet, I sensed no killing intent from you. So, I assume you don't intend to kill me, or anything of that sort"

His words lingered in the air, cool and deliberate, as his calm demeanor never wavered.

"But it doesn't matter"

Aaaninja went on, his tone sharpening slightly.

"This is your chance to face me. But I must end this quickly. I've already lost to Anthony earlier, and I need to finish this battle swiftly, so I can face him again in the final"

As Aaaninja's words hung in the air, a shift rippled through the atmosphere.

The air trembled, the intensity of their presence erupting around them.

Neither moved.

Neither blinked.

Yet, the air itself seemed to shudder in response, vibrating with the power building between them.

Without a single step, the tension broke.

In perfect synchrony, as though they had rehearsed the motion a thousand times before, both unsheathed their weapons.

A surge of Sword Intent exploded outward, engulfing their blades with an ethereal glow, encasing them in a fierce will of precision and deadly purpose.

Lucian's knees bent ever so slightly, his body preparing to spring into motion.

His muscles coiled like a tightly wound spring, veins snaking across his body, ready to unleash his power.

The earth beneath his feet caved in, cracking under the force of his imminent move. Experience new tales on My Virtual Library Empire

But before he could make his strike, Aaaninja moved.

Though, it wasn't a true movement.

With a mere flick of his wrist, he swung his sword through empty air.

A simple swing, seemingly devoid of any intent to strike, a motion so subtle, so effortless, it couldn't even be called an attack.

Then, it happened.

A sharp, flesh tearing sound split the silence, echoing across the battlefield, resonating deep within every onlooker's ears.

Lucian, who had been poised to strike, froze.

His eyes widened in shock as he felt something warm and wet trickling down his chest.

He gazed down, and there it was.

A red liquid.

Blood.

His blood.

Lucian had been injured before he could even take a single step.

Aaaninja's single, simple swing had been all that was needed.

With that, Aaaninja had drawn the first blood.