The Forsaken Heir's Ascension
Chapter 120: The Ninth Column: Life and Death Battle in the Semifinals

Chapter 120: The Ninth Column: Life and Death Battle in the Semifinals

Vishal entered the battlefield, twin swords drawn, his eyes vicious—sharp and silent like a panther.

Without a word, he crouched low—then lunged.

Clank! Clank!

Alex stumbled, caught off guard, barely managing to parry both blades with his daggers.

But he felt it—the shock of impact.

His arms went numb from the force.

Then Meika struck.

Like a furious demoness, she lunged from behind, merging into the shadows and reappearing on Alex’s flank.

Slash!

Her dagger tore into his calf muscle.

"Arghhh!"

A muffled groan escaped Alex’s lips.

But he didn’t fall.

He didn’t waver.

He stood his ground—grim and unflinching.

Darkness surged.

It wrapped around him like armor, forming a crude, jagged dark shield.

He reached into his spatial ring and pulled out—

An emerald spear.

Shlung!

The steel sang as it hit the air, ringing sharp through the storm.

Before him, the haze thickened.

Two shadowy figures stood there—monsters of night, wrapped in storm and killing intent.

Alex thrust the spear forward.

Shlang!

The weapon surged with black lightning, accelerating like a bolt fired from the heavens.

But Meika vanished—melting into shadows like a coin slipping beneath water.

The spear pierced only the storm-churned air.

Alex snarled, ripped the spear back with a twist of his arm—

Then rolled left, narrowly dodging the gleam of descending swords—

Clang! Clang!

Vishal’s twin blades struck the stone.

Alex sprang back to his feet, spear in hand, scanning the field.

But Meika was already gone.

She had crossed to the next column.

Alex gritted his teeth and thrust his spear toward Vishal—

But Vishal leapt into the air, spinning mid-flight, both swords aimed directly at Alex’s outstretched arms.

Alex’s eyes widened.

He retracted the spear and crossed it in front of himself just in time—

Clang! Clang!

Steel rang against steel as he blocked the twin strikes.

Vishal landed lightly on his feet.

He didn’t pause.

He lunged forward again—

Alex, already out of breath, staggered slightly.

His calf still bled freely, weakening his stance.

His vision blurred.

Slash!

A sword cut across his stomach—hot pain surged.

Then came the second blade—descending for his neck.

Alex stumbled back—

And blocked it.

A blur of lightning-fast reflexes. The spear in his right hand flashed upward, intercepting the fatal blow.

He gasped, nearly collapsing.

Blood trickled down his abdomen as he gripped the fresh wound on his stomach.

He raised his gaze, panting heavily, and stared at Vishal.

Then, with a strained smirk, he muttered:

"You’re good."

Vishal said nothing.

His swords were still raised.

His eyes still cold.

A few moments earlier...

As Meika crossed into the ninth column, she didn’t pause.

She lunged straight for the tenth—

The final column.

Her feet touched down, and a triumphant smile crept onto her face.

Almost there. Almost won.

BOOM!

A massive shield crashed into her side out of nowhere—

Like a meteor.

She went flying.

Her body spun through the air, a blur of dark armor and shock—

Until she slammed into the arena barrier with a deafening crack.

The force shook the barrier—

It shimmered, flickered—

Then stabilized with a hum.

From the tenth column, Luther scratched his head and muttered innocently:

"I was just saying hello..."

A pause.

Then the loudspeaker crackled.

"ONE ATTACKER OUT."

"TIME REMAINING: SIXTY SECONDS."

Back at the ninth column...

Alex stared through hazy vision at his opponent.

Vishal stood tall—barely a scratch on him, a few shallow cuts on his arm and leg.

There wasn’t a wince. No pain on his face. Just calm, focused stillness.

Alex, on the other hand, was barely standing.

His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps.

Blood soaked his clothes.

Small, bleeding cuts marked him from head to toe.

He leaned heavily on his spear—his last anchor to stay upright.

They stood there in silence.

Two warriors.

Two storms, waiting for the other to move.

Then—

"GAME OVER."

"WINNER: REBEL TEAM."

Vishal exhaled.

He lowered his swords and gave Alex a respectful nod—then turned and calmly walked off the battlefield.

Alex watched him go.

Then, with a quiet sigh, his legs gave out beneath him.

He collapsed to the ground—

Unconscious.

Alex opened his eyes.

A white ceiling stared back at him.

He slowly turned his head to the right and saw white drapes surrounding his bed.

The entire space felt sterile. Quiet.

He was lying on a single bed, draped in crisp white sheets, enclosed on all sides by the curtain.

He groaned, trying to sit up.

"What happened...?"

Then—memories came flooding back.

The storm. The ninth column.

The fierce fight against that twin-sword Noctshade member—Vishal.

Relentless attacks that came back-to-back, giving him no time to think, no space to breathe.

He hadn’t even been able to redirect his wood elemental energy to heal himself.

In that short, brutal exchange, he lost too much blood, too quickly.

And that made him vulnerable.

He whispered, almost to himself:

"It felt like... that was a life and death battle.

He was fighting like it.

And I wasn’t..."

He paused, eyes scanning the quiet room.

A question surfaced.

Did I become weak?

Or was I just afraid...?

Before he could finish the thought, the drapes suddenly swung open.

A tall figure stood there—brown-haired, brown-eyed, arms crossed.

Darian.

He burst out laughing.

"Hahahahaha! You’re finally awake—our champion!"

Alex winced, covering his ears.

The sound felt like someone was poking needles directly into his brain.

"Captain, please pipe down," he groaned.

"You’re stabbing my brain through my ears."

Darian scratched his head, offering a sheepish grin.

"Ah—sorry about that."

Just then, the cheeky brat strolled in, smug as ever.

He looked at Alex with mock wisdom and said,

"Learn from me. You’ll never get hurt again."

SLAP!

Tina stepped in behind him and smacked the back of his head.

He crouched down, holding his head in both hands.

"Vice captain! You’ll damage my precious brain!"

Tina ignored him completely and turned to Alex.

"Are you okay?"

Alex nodded, his voice soft.

"Yes, Vice Captain. Thank you."

She gave him a short nod.

"Good. Let’s go—let him rest. We’ll talk more at tomorrow’s training session."

The others followed her out—leaving Alex alone once more, surrounded by white silence.

Alex slumped back onto the bed, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Woof."

A soft bark echoed beside him.

He turned his head and saw Hati, standing proudly at the edge of the bed—

Serene beside him.

Alex smiled warmly.

"Hello, Hati... and Aunt."

Serene nodded with a gentle smile.

"You look okay."

Alex nodded, trying to reassure her.

"Yeah... I’m okay. Don’t worry."

Serene let out a small sigh of relief.

"I’m glad. You did great out there, Alex. Winning the semifinal... that wasn’t easy."

Alex looked down, the smile fading from his face.

"I think... I’ve developed hesitation. Or maybe it’s fear."

Serene’s eyes widened for a second—then softened.

She smiled gently and said:

"That’s the first step toward true strength.

Recognizing your shortcomings... recognizing that you’re still human."

Alex took a quiet breath. Then nodded.

He stood from the bed, stretching slowly.

"I think I’m okay now."

Serene watched him rise, concern in her expression.

"Are you sure?"

He gave her a calm smile.

"Yes. Come on, Hati."

Hati barked once and followed as Alex walked toward the door.

Just before stepping out, he turned back slightly over his shoulder.

"You should head back quietly too... Aunt."

In the Veylor Club training hall...

Clink—Clank!

Metal rang out again and again.

A young man with jet-black hair and glowing violet eyes sparred with a lanky, monkey-faced fighter wielding twin short swords.

Clank!

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