The moment the announcer declared the beginning of the final match, the Grand Akashic Arena erupted into a cacophony of cheers and excitement.

  Thousands of students from the four great academies filled the seats, their voices blending into an overwhelming chorus as they witnessed the two young warriors face off.

  Gerald Fortold, the celestial prodigy of Zenith Arcane Institute, made the first move.

  With a flick of his wrist, the air trembled.

  "Gravity Press!"

  A dark ripple expanded from beneath him, and instantly, the space around Leon Brave became heavier.

  The very ground beneath Leon's feet cracked as the weight of his own body doubled, no—tripled in an instant.

  Yet—

  He moved forward anyway.

  The announcer's voice boomed across the arena, providing real-time commentary for the audience.

  "An immediate gravitational increase from Gerald Fortold! A classic opening move for any gravity mage! But look at Leon Brave—he’s still moving forward!"

  Leon’s body trembled under the intense force pressing down on him, but he did not slow down.

  Instead, he focused, drawing upon the only magic he could wield.

  "Reinforcement Magic: Full-Body Enhancement!"

  A faint glow enveloped his figure, veins pulsing with power as his muscles grew stronger, his speed faster, his mind sharper.

  With sheer brute force, Leon overcame the gravity magic and charged straight at Gerald.

  Marcus watched intently from his seat, golden eyes narrowing.

  'Tch. That idiot is just brute forcing his way through magic with sheer physical strength. How inelegant.'

  And yet…

  His other self—the earthling buried deep within—couldn’t help but feel awed.

  Leon had no talent in magic. In a world ruled by spells, formulas, and ancient incantations, he was nothing more than a swordsman.

  And yet, he still stood at the finals of the most prestigious magic tournament.

  Although it was due to the original participant not being able to participate and he was made a replacement, but still...

  That kind of resolve…

  It was admirable.

  Athena, sitting beside him, also observed closely. Her golden eyes shimmered as she analyzed the fight with the precision of a scholar.

  "Hmm. Gerald is playing it safe," she mused. "He’s using only Basic and Elementary grade gravity magic, keeping Leon’s movement restricted while minimizing his mana consumption."

  Marcus scoffed, crossing his arms. "Typical of Zenith Arcane Institute. Those fools always rely on calculated efficiency. Too scared to take risks."

  "You say that, but his approach is working," Athena countered, watching as Gerald continued layering multiple gravity spells onto Leon’s path.

  "Gravity Pulse."

  A pulse of gravity exploded outward, distorting the air. Leon barely managed to leap out of the way, but the moment he landed—

  "Gravity Well."

  A concentrated field of immense weight appeared right beneath Leon’s feet. His body lurched downward, knees buckling as the force threatened to slam him into the ground.

  The crowd gasped as Leon struggled.

  "He’s trapped!" the announcer called out. "Gerald Fortold has expertly guided his opponent into a gravitational kill zone! Can Leon Brave escape?!"

  For a moment, Marcus almost smirked.

  'That idiot. This is what happens when you rely purely on brute force.'

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Really, Marcus was still bitter from losing against Leon.

  But then—

  Leon moved.

  "Not yet! I'm not done yet!"

  With a roar, he gathered all his strength and swung his sword downwards.

  A shockwave erupted as Leon’s reinforced blade sliced through the very ground, disrupting the gravitational field by force.

  The sheer impact sent a ripple through the arena floor, momentarily breaking Gerald’s hold on him.

  The entire stadium erupted in cheers.

  "HE BROKE OUT OF IT!!" the announcer shouted in disbelief.

  Athena’s brows rose slightly.

  Marcus… clenched his fist.

  That foolish, reckless, barbaric method, and yet…and yet...

  It was effective.

  Although he would've done better, it was still effective.

  Leon closed the distance before Gerald could react. His sword gleamed under the arena lights, an arc of silver light heading straight for his opponent.

  Gerald raised his hand.

  "Gravity Shield!"

  A translucent field of compressed gravity formed between them, attempting to deflect the blade.

  Clang!

  Leon’s sword struck the barrier, sparks flying. The shield cracked but held—but just barely.

  Leon clicked his tongue, pushing his weight into the blade.

  The two fighters locked in a battle of will—Leon with his sheer strength, and Gerald with his unyielding magical defenses.

  Marcus watched the spectacle, his emotions clashing.

  His arrogance—the prideful Marcus Rey Dimitri—wanted to crush Leon for the humiliation of their past battle.

  And yet, the earthling inside of him was…

  Rooting for Leon.

  After all, while reading the novels, he had always admired the hardworking Leon, the one who didn't give up despite his lack of talent.

  It was Leon who had given him hope to continue living.

  He quickly shook the thought away, scowling at himself.

  'Seriously. I need to keep my emotions under control. It's annoying.'

  Despite his annoyance, he kept watching.

  He couldn’t look away.

  The fight wasn’t over yet.

  "However..." Marcus turned his gaze towards Gerald.

  There is one major reason why he decided to watch this tournament, and that is to see the end of Volume 4, the tournament arc.

  "Break!"

  Gerald’s Elementary Gravity Shield began to crack under Leon’s relentless assault.

  Sweat dripped down the prodigy’s forehead as he gritted his teeth. His calculations were perfect—he had accounted for Leon’s raw strength, his speed, his stamina—yet the swordsman kept pushing forward, ignoring all reason, all logic.

  'This is why brutes like him are dangerous,' Gerald thought. 'But I won’t lose here!'

  He took a deep breath, raising both hands.

  "Gravity Vacuum!"

  The air distorted around them.

  A tremendous pull of force dragged everything toward a single point, like an invisible black hole forming in the middle of the arena.

  The sheer weight of the spell cracked the ground, the tiles beneath them crumbling into dust as Leon’s feet sank into the stone.

  The entire stadium trembled.

  The crowd gasped in awe.

  "Gerald Fortold is using the strongest Elementary-grade gravity spell!" the announcer declared. "This could be the finishing blow—Leon Brave is trapped!"

  And yet—

  Leon's eyes turned firm.

  His grip on his sword tightened, the veins on his arms bulging as he fought against the overwhelming gravity.

  Then—

  With a roar, he slammed his foot into the ground, shattering the stone beneath him, freeing himself from the crushing force.

  Gerald’s eyes widened in horror.

  Leon disappeared.

  A split second later—

  BOOM!

  A gust of wind erupted as Leon burst forward, breaking through the gravitational field with nothing but pure physical strength.

  He closed the distance instantly, raising his sword high above his head.

  "END OF THE LINE!"

  The crowd held their breath.

  Gerald couldn’t react in time.

  Leon’s sword came down.

  But, before he could deal with the finishing blow, he stoppes just an inch away from hitting his opponent.

  Gerald, too stunned at the event, fell down on the ground, still in a daze, perhaps imagining what would happen if that sword had hit him.

  "Surrender." Leon pressed the sword to Gerald's neck.

  Gerald snapped out of his daze, sweat dripping from his body as he raised his hands in defeat.

  "I—I surrender."

  Leon smiled. He had won. He had won against the prodigy of another academy. He had proven that talent doesn't determine one's fate, it's hard work and perseverance.

  However, before anyone could celebrate—The sky darkened.

  Marcus' eyes immediately turned serious as he observed the phenomenon. 'So it's here.'

  A chilling wind swept through the arena.

  The sun—so bright just moments ago—was eclipsed by a swirling mass of darkness.

  And then—

  They came.

  From the sky, dark figures poured down like a rain of nightmares.

  "D-DEMONS! THERE ARE DEMONS!"

  The first screams came from the spectators.

  Then—chaos erupted.

  Demons.

  Hundreds—no, thousands of them—descended from the swirling abyss above.

  Horrific, twisted beings with razor-sharp claws, glowing red eyes, and monstrous wings. Some looked human-like, others grotesque beyond comprehension.

  And in the very center of the invasion—

  Gerald Fortold screamed in agony.

  His body twisted and contorted, his skin ripping apart as something terrible emerged from within him.

  His once refined face melted into a grotesque snarl, his body expanding twice—three times—its original size.

  His pale skin turned crimson, bulging with demonic veins pulsing with unholy power.

  His eyes—once filled with intelligence—burned like molten fire.

  Gerald Fortold was no longer human.

  Or rather, he was never a human to begin with.

  "WHAT IS HAPPENING!? WHY ARE DEMONS ATTACKING?!" The announcer’s voice cracked in terror.

  The crowd screamed, students fleeing in panic as the demonic army descended upon them.

  Athena shot up from her seat, her golden eyes glowing fiercely as she summoned magic circles around her.

  As for Marcus, he was observing the chaos, as if unaffected by the battle.

  His mind went back to the novel.

  The end of Volume 4, the Tournament Arc, is not when Leon defeated Gerald and won the championships.

  Volume 4 ended with the invasion of the demons who had remained silent for 100 years, catching humanity off guard.

  In fact, they did not just attack the Olympia Kingdom, but other nations as well.

  Although the Akashic Academy managed to resist the invasion and drove away the demons, they suffered great casualties.

  It was this event that marks the beginning of the Volume 5, the Demonic Night Parade.

  And also the start of Leon Brave's journey of becoming a hero.