Genius Noble With System
Chapter 221: Strength of Mysterious Necros Continent

Chapter 221: Strength of Mysterious Necros Continent

The Necros trialist’s appearance alone commanded attention—a tall, lean figure cloaked in flowing black robes, with only visible skin as pale as moonlight and eyes that seemed to hold unfathomable depths. They moved with an eerie stillness, like a shadow slipping between realms.

For a moment, there was only silence, and then the trialist’s opponent—a monster clan King Kong beast of size twenty feet with silver eyes and brownish fur—let out a roar that shook the arena with tremors.

The arena felt charged, every gaze fixed on the confrontation unfolding between the Necros trialist and the colossal King Kong beast from the monster clan.

The creature was a behemoth; each step he took sent tremors through the ground, a rumble of raw primal strength that rattled even the strongest trialists watching from the stands.

The Necros trialist, by contrast, remained still—a figure of shadow and silence cloaked in midnight robes, skin pale as the moon, his eyes unfathomably deep. He moved without haste, a ghost gliding between worlds, his aura so restrained it was almost as if they didn’t exist.

The beast let out a thunderous roar, beating his chest, his silver eyes blazing with rage.

"Begin."

In an instant, he charged forward, each step crushing the ground beneath him as he jumped with a massive fist, intending to flatten the figure in black.

But the Necros trialist barely moved. Instead, his form flickered, vanishing just as the colossal fist crashed down. A shadow slipped sideways, reappearing a mere breath away from where the fists had landed as if they were untouched by the boundaries.

The King Kong monster became more ferocious; his muscles bulged, and a silver aura covered him with a loud roar.

"Fist of Demon Kong."

Booom!

The gigantic silver fist of the mighty ancient Kong seems to appear in the area, shocking the crowd as they feel its power.

To which the guy from Necros replied calmly as he seemed to raise his hand and with a cold, calm yet chilling voice.

"Shadow Garden, Land of Engulfing."

The entire arena darkened as the Necros trialist’s words echoed, his calm, chilling tone weaving a spell over the stunned onlookers. Shadows pulsed and surged from beneath his feet, spreading outward like a tide, consuming the ground in an inky blackness. The very air grew cold, the chill biting into the skin of anyone nearby.

The King Kong beast’s fist, cloaked in a blazing silver aura, tore through the air with terrifying force. The "Fist of Demon Kong" blazed with raw, ancient primal energy, its power enough to destroy mountains and sea alike.

The audience gasped, feeling the force of the strike reverberate through the arena as if the fist itself could crush the heavens.

Yet the Necros trialist did not flinch. His raised hand seemed to absorb the darkness from the ground, and as he chanted, "Shadow Garden: Land of Engulfing," the shadows pooled around him, forming an abyssal field.

The darkness expanded into a void-like garden—wisps of black fog unfurling like tendrils, twisting and writhing, each one ready to ensnare and consume anything that dared to come near.

The massive silver fist hurtled into the shadowy garden, but instead of colliding, it was swallowed whole. The audience gasped in astonishment as the shadows rippled, absorbing the Kong’s might with an eerie, supernatural calm.

Tentacles of darkness latched onto Kong’s arm, spreading rapidly up his body, sapping his strength, and chilling him to the bone. The monster’s silver aura flickered, dimming as if suffocated by an unseen force.

The King Kong monster beast’s eyes widened in horror as he felt his strength draining, his mighty body bound by tentacles of darkness that seemed to grow stronger with every second. He struggled, muscles bulging, but the more he fought, the more the shadows tightened, like a python constricting its prey.

With a final surge, the shadow tendrils tightened, pulling the beast down to his knees, his energy fading fast. His once-mighty form seemed to shrink, his silver aura vanishing into the darkness, consumed by the endless depths of the "Shadow Garden."

When the shadows receded, the mighty King Kong beast lay motionless, drained of all power. The Necros trialist stood alone in the silence that followed, his eyes still cold, as if untouched by the awe-struck faces surrounding him. With a graceful flick of his hand, the shadows retreated, leaving him standing in calm stillness.

Everyone observing from a distance felt their heart quicken. This was no ordinary opponent, no mere display of skill. The Necros trialist had revealed a taste of the immense, eldritch power of his continent.

Apollo, on the other hand, wore a shocked expression, as the strength this figure displayed was identical to that of the individual he had encountered in the ruins near his family’s territory. Not only that, it was in those ruins that his system had awakened after devouring God.

Now he understood why they seemed familiar and why their peculiar aura gave him a sense of déjà vu. It also meant that the god who had awakened back then was connected to the Necros continent.

This connection could make them his enemies, as the system had devoured a god they had intended to awaken.

His eyes narrowed as he watched the Necros trialist who was looking at him from the stands, shadows like cloaks still clinging to their form like a second skin.

But how can he guess he had something to do with that? Everyone who was in ruins at that time is dead.

"Could it be... is he the Shadow Lord I fought in the ruins? Could he have somehow survived?" The more he thought about it, the more it seemed plausible. Yet he couldn’t understand why the other Necros members acted as if they were unaware. Could this Shadow Lord be hiding the truth?

That must be it. He quickly concluded that, whether out of greed or some other motive, the Shadow Lord had kept the truth hidden—a fortunate turn for him."

A dark satisfaction flickered in Apollo’s gaze as he realised the implications. If the Shadow Lord believed he could quietly manipulate events without revealing himself, then Apollo would have the upper hand.

"Fine," Apollo thought, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Let him play his game in the shadows. But when the time comes, I’ll be ready.".

With his resolve strengthened Apollo turned his focus back to the trials. There would be plenty of time to unravel the mystery behind the Shadow Lord and Necros. For now, he would use this opportunity to sharpen his power, knowing that each battle brought him one step closer to understanding—and ultimately, conquering—whatever secrets the Necros held.

The calm returned as one after another different geniuses from different races started to show their strength; it was not just a simple display of the strength of humans; rather, it was a great stage for all races to shine.

Yet, amid this spectacle, there was a hidden layer to the proceedings. In folded spaces, shielded from the prying eyes of the trialists, a select group of powerful beings observed the trials with keen interest.

They were far beyond the strength of any of the current competitors, beings whose very presence distorted the space around them, their powers so vast they could see the trials unfold without being detected.

Among these onlookers were the three mysterious figures who had appeared at the beginning of the final trial—one cloaked in ice, the other exuding an energy of void, and the third radiating a silent but immense authority. Their presence alone could shake the world, yet they remained hidden, watching the trials with a sense of purpose.

Each had their own reasons for being there, their own agendas at play, but what tied them together was a shared, deep interest in the trialists before them.

As the battle raged on, they exchanged glances, each observing different aspects of the combatants, each marking the ones that piqued their interest, including Apollo, who had already captured the attention of many with his effortless display of power.

"It’s as we suspected," the figure cloaked in ice spoke softly, his voice like the chill wind on a winter night. "There are few here that surpass expectations."

"Indeed," the one cloaked in void replied, his tone hollow, almost otherworldly. "The balance of the trialists is... interesting. It will be intriguing to see who emerges as the true inheritor."

Other mysterious guys also nodded as they looked at the battles that continued to go on.

As the battles continued, Apollo’s attention was drawn to the next significant event: his master’s turn had come.

Apollo felt a surge of pride and anticipation. His master had been one of the key figures who had shaped Apollo’s understanding of swordsmanship.

He watched closely as his master took his position in the centre of the arena, his posture calm and composed, his expression unreadable.

His opponent—a beastly giant covered in jagged scales and emanating a dark, oppressive energy—was already moving with aggressive intent. The contrast between the two was striking.