Genius Noble With System
Chapter 210: Showing strength

Chapter 210: Showing strength

Among the fifty strongest here, over thirty belong to the ten behemoth clans that have ruled the continent for thousands of years. Fewer than twenty are from other clans, and even among those, only three, counting Apollo, come from weak or unpopular clans—an unprecedented occurrence in the past thousand years.

This unexpected development sent ripples through the gathered audience. For generations, dominance in these trials had been monopolized by the great clans, leaving little room for outsiders to shine.

"Three from weak clans?" One elder muttered in disbelief. "It’s unbelievable they cannot come this far without the help of superior teaching and resources."

Though many viewed these three as anomalies, some saw them as threats. Among the great clans, whispers of jealousy and disdain circulated, their pride stung by the success of those who were supposed to be beneath them.

The spectacle unfolding before them was both unsettling and thrilling—proof that this year’s competition was unlike any other. And while the great clans still held the majority, the presence of these few unheralded participants introduced a level of unpredictability that no one could ignore.

And seeing this few among the participants cannot take it anymore. Fighting is allowed on these platforms, but most don’t do it because it is meaningless. Although it was still meaningless, the appearance of the three seems to hurt some proud idiots pride, as they always believe they are above most of the weak and worthless clans.

"How could they make it this far?" One young master from the great clan just weaker than the Ten clans, Crimson River Clan, sneered, his voice low yet brimming with disdain. "Without proper teachings or treasures, they should’ve crumbled by now."

"It’s a disgrace," another from the Iron Fang Clan muttered, glaring at Apollo’s distant figure. "They defy the natural order."

Several figures shifted among the crowd, eyes narrowing with malice. Their jealousy was no longer content to remain whispers in the wind—it demanded action.

From the edge of the platform, Davin Steelclaw, a second-generation prodigy of the Silver Moon Clan, stepped forward, cracking his knuckles with a weird grin that didn’t reach his eyes. "If they think they can stand where we stand," he muttered, "then they better be prepared to know their place."

"They’ve forgotten their place. Let me remind them."

Silver Moon clan during their peak state was a very strong clan, second to ten great clans, but with time it has degraded, and so now he wanted to show his strength as he felt suppressing these thrash low-life clan geniuses would give him some glory.

But Apollo, now on the platform, felt the growing hostility like a distant breeze—acknowledged yet irrelevant. His focus remained unbroken, his cold demeanour untouched by the malice swirling behind him.

If they dared to stand in his way? They would be dealt with accordingly.

Davin looked at the three Apollo, Esher, and Leon who made their way into the top hundred in the previous battle.

He looked at them, and at first, he was going to start with Leon but changed his mind and finally decided from whom he would start. But maybe because of his shitty luck or Leon’s good luck, he didn’t choose him but none other than Apollo.

Davin approached Apollo, exuding the arrogance that only a prodigy from a powerful clan could muster. His sneer was confident, filled with disdain for someone he saw as an intruder among the elite.

"You, pretty boy, should know your place," Davin said, his voice laced with mockery, expecting to see the beginnings of fear or hesitation in Apollo’s expression.

But all he received was cold indifference.

Apollo’s gaze remained steady, like a glacier unmoved by the fleeting gusts of wind. The silence between them stretched—uncomfortable for Davin but serene for Apollo, who treated the insult as no more than background noise.

In the audience, the reaction was mixed. Those from small clans leaned forward with gleeful anticipation, excited to see whether the supposed dark horse would fall. Meanwhile, members of the Rose Clan, associated distantly with Apollo, began to fidget with unease. Some whispered amongst themselves, wishing Davin had chosen Leon or Esher instead.

But Esher—one of the other dark horses who had fought Apollo previously—merely snickered. He crossed his arms, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "What an idiot," he muttered under his breath. "He’s chosen the worst possible person to mess with."

Esher knew from experience. When he fought Apollo, he’d barely escaped with his life. This arrogant fool from the Silver Moon Clan had no idea what kind of nightmare he’d just stirred awake.

"Didn’t you hear me, runt?" Davin sneered, now standing directly in front of Apollo. "Or are you just deaf along with being stupid?" He raised his hand, ready to attack.

Davin’s hand shot forward, glowing with moonlight, brimming with unimaginable force as he used a powerful skill of their clan—expecting to knock Apollo down and put him in his place. A smile twisted his lips as he imagined the smug satisfaction of watching the so-called genius crumble.

But the instant his hand moved, Apollo shifted.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, like a ripple in still water. No grand movement or dramatic gesture—just a slight turn of his wrist. Before anyone could blink, Davin’s arm was stopped mid-motion, caught effortlessly by Apollo’s fingers.

The crowd gasped.

Davin’s expression twisted with confusion and disbelief. He strained to pull away, but Apollo’s grip was unbreakable, like heavenly steel forged under endless frost. What stunned Davin even more wasn’t just the strength—it was the ease with which Apollo held him, as if restraining him took no more effort than flicking dust from sleeves.

Cold radiated from Apollo’s fingers, seeping into Davin’s bones. His once-confident sneer faltered as he realized he wasn’t just fighting a random challenger from a lesser clan—he was confronting something far and unimaginable.

Apollo tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering and devoid of emotion. "That’s your first mistake," he said, his voice soft but sharper than a blade. "There won’t be a second."

With a flick of his wrist, he released Davin’s arm—and the force of it sent the larger man stumbling backwards, nearly losing his balance.

For a moment, silence reigned. Davin stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. He, a prodigy from one of the most revered clans, had been handled like a child.

Esher watched from a distance, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Idiot," he murmured, barely able to contain his grin. "He’s not someone you mess with."

Murmurs erupted among the spectators. Whispers of awe, fear, and jealousy spread like wildfire. "Who is this guy? How is this possible?" One noble youth muttered.

"Such power," an elder whispered, eyes narrowed. "That was precision and control... and terrifying restraint."

Even those from the mighty clans who initially looked down on Apollo found themselves re-evaluating their assumptions. This wasn’t just some talented upstart—he was a threat.

Davin clenched his fists, his face red with humiliation. But fear crept into his heart—the kind of fear that only someone who has just glimpsed their mortality could feel. Yet his pride wouldn’t let him walk away. He gritted his teeth and summoned energy into his palm, ready to lash out once more.

But before he could act—

The air around Apollo thickened. His aura, which had been calm and contained, suddenly expanded like a glacier breaking free from the mountains. It wasn’t just cold—it was absolute. An oppressive chill that seemed to freeze the very space around him, making it hard for everyone to breathe.

Davin’s movements stuttered to a halt, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Apollo’s presence. His body instinctively recoiled, realizing that if he took even one more step, he wouldn’t survive.

Davin stood there, trembling, his hand still glowing faintly with energy—yet he couldn’t move. Pride demanded the attack, but every instinct screamed at him to stop.

After a long, agonizing moment, Davin let the energy in his palm fizzle out. His hands fell to his sides, clenched in frustrated defeat. He turned away, humiliated but lost.

There was utter silence after seeing this; even the top ten contenders from the ten clans were surprised. Kassandra from the Titania clan just looked at him, but she didn’t say anything or feel surprised, as when she met him, she already felt his strength and knew the entire result, but still, a hint of excitement could not be hidden in her eyes.

When she saw him as the participant in the first round, she already knew he would come far even if he didn’t show his true strength. And now he just showed the tip of the iceberg; she is waiting to see his true strength.

The eerie silence broke when Drakins, not caring about this all bullshit, quickly moved ahead to step onto the twenty-eight platform, crossing the hurdle again without much difficulty.

Seeing this, others also let go of the other thoughts and didn’t dare mess around or take Apollo lightly.

Without a second glance at Davin or the others, Apollo turned and also resumed his path up the platform, as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than an annoying distraction.