44 Who...Who Is This Guy!?

A cold wind shot through the atmosphere of the stadium, but no one shivered.

"I've no interest in playing around with you lot," the tall, brown-haired powerhouse spoke in his deep voice, and almost inaudibly, as he slowly lifted his hand.

"Close in on the bastard! Get him the hell outta here!"

"Pain...hard work....sadness and worse. Fall before it…and...."

The powerhouse took a stance and buried his feet into the stone ring, the ground cracking dozens of meters in distance across the floor.

"Flame Art: Tornado Slicer."

"G-gah!?"

He spun. He spun so fast, one probably would've assumed he'd only done it about 2 or 3 times, however, that couldn't have been further from the truth. As he spun, a line of fire followed his fingers as he held his hand out, creating a circle all around him.

"Oh shit!"

Everyone tried to stop and turn, or at least try and avoid whatever this bastard's next move was, but it was ultimately fruitless.

The circle of fire expanded all around, 360 degrees, at a ferocious speed. The noise it was producing was bone-chilling as it sounded as if someone had completely destroyed a 10 story building. It would've been better to imagine creating a 2d circle in an artistic software and then proceeding to expand it using some kind of magnifying tool, that was basically what it looked like. Only, in this case, that circle was completely ablaze and looked as if it could cut through diamonds with how fine it was.

Schoom!!!

"...My power."

"D'yaaaaaghh!!" Fighters screamed in agony as the circle of fire launched towards them and hit their torsos, sending them flying backward. Bodies that were being sent backward were hitting one another over and over again, piling up the count. Eventually, 100, 200, at least 300 people were caught in this web of hellfire. No one knew what the bastard's level was, though one thing was for certain: It must've been extremely high as the pain those in the front received was unbearably tremendous.

"Holy shit! What the hell kind of power is that!?" Chiaki yelled as he buried his feet in the ground, watching the bodies being attacked by the circle of fire hurl his way, seemingly at Mach speed. There were only two options:

Avoid it, or...

...Accept defeat.

Of course, naturally, someone like Chiaki would never accept defeat if there was something he could do about it. All he had to do was find some way, at least a single method in which to escape this approaching fate.

Then, it came to him. Though, it didn't really rely on logic. It was more instinctual as he'd never even tried something like what his body was currently doing on its own. He put both his hands to the ground and kicked his feet off, putting him in a handstand. The circle of fire was fast approaching.

"Once more. Flame Art: Inferno Tsunami!"

Then, once again, a large wave of fire shot from Chiaki's hands. However, the fire did not quite penetrate the ring, but rather, it pushed his body off the ground. The wave of fire launched him several meters in the air, around 7 or 8 to be somewhat accurate.

"Hrrrrrrghhh!" He paid no attention to the people being caught in the web of fire, as all he was concerned about was avoiding it himself. And, sure enough, his plan succeeded. The ever-expanding circle of fire 7 meters or so beneath him shot right past him, cutting through his own Inferno Tsunami.

"Hmngh...it cut through it, huh? Just how powerful is that damn spell!?"

Yasuko took a step forward and stared at the incoming circle of death with eyes just as dead and an unchanging face.

"Toppuu."

His body lifted itself into the air elegantly, like a leaf in the wind, once again as he used the lone spell. And, naturally, the distanced level 220 avoided the circle of death as it shot right past him, only several meters below his feet. Naturally, others with the time to dodge used the same methods as the two femboys to escape their elimination.

"Easily avoidable," he said blandly, almost silently. "Though, I suppose those people down there do not agree with me…hm?" Yasuko took a good look at the source of power in the middle. "...Hm...that one. Is he…?"

"Go'aaaagghhh!!!!"

A large number of people shot off the ring dangerously quickly, falling victim to the spell that no one could tell whether it was basic or extremely complex. However, one thing was certain. That boy made it look like it was one hell of a big deal.

The sound of bodies piling up and striking each other as they fell off the ring and onto the ground was heard thoroughly by those on lower levels of the bleachers. Though, the thing that made everything incredibly obvious…

Was the speed in which the number displayed on the magic calculator was decreasing.

"...I...I don't believe it!" the announcer spoke into the microphone as the last few injured bodies settled. Many people made it back to the stone floor of the ring as the circle of fire dissipated, including Chiaki and Yasuko. "One contestant...has eliminated…"

"Hmph." the powerhouse scoffed and returned to his normal posture, closing his eyes and folding his arms as if nothing had just happened.

"One contestant has eliminated…"

The new number on the magic calculator had finally displayed itself.

"489 people!!"

After a brief pause, the crowd erupted with cheers and roars of astonishment towards the powerhouse who, with one attack, had completely decimated over half of the original 834 remaining fighters that existed just a few seconds ago.

Nakayama's jaw dropped. He couldn't say anything. In all his life, he'd never known anyone with such power, he'd never seen it in action. Hell, he didn't even know one could get that powerful, and at such a young age, too. All of those contestants he'd just eliminated definitely weren't all weak. There absolutely were some level 200s, 300s, even 500s among them, alongside level 1s such as himself. All of those who avoided his attack were simply lucky enough to have the reaction time to do as such.

"Th-this...this guy…" his breath was shaky and a small bead of sweat dripped down his chin at the mere sight of such a thing. Hundreds of nurses, paramedics, or whatever they might've called the medical team rushed out to put the injured contestants on stretchers and get them treated immediately.

"Wow...he's...h-he's strong…!" Kiyomi muttered without his natural smile.

Nakayama gulped. "Who...is this guy!?"

The crowd roared as the enlisted fighters who'd avoided the powerhouse's previous attack all made it back to the ground. Though, this time, there was no immediate fighting. Rather, once they all regained their postures, they took a minute to process what had just happened. There was no way in hell any of them would've been able to defeat them on their own, and the bastard had already proved that a group assault would've been fruitless, so what the hell were they supposed to do?

Right, nothing. There wasn't anything they could do but pray that the guy didn't try and eliminate them, as it would've been a surefire victory for him.

Chiaki took a quick look around to see who'd "survived" that last Flame Art attack.

"..." he hummed to himself for a moment and then began to mutter. "Him...her...that redhead and her friend...looks like Yasuko made it out okay, too." He looked up. "Still seems as though this round ain't over yet. There's still 345 people on the ring, so that means 145 still need to be eliminated. Hm?"

As Chiaki continued to look around, he noticed some of the fighters were literally shaking in their boots at the thought of fighting that monster. Though, there was one brave soul that caught the femboy's eye.

"The one in a million, Kiyoshi Lionheart," a slender boy with the same height as the powerhouse said in a refined, snotty tone.

He had one hand in the pocket of his dark grey dress pants that seemed to be just as slender as he was and the other was held out as he walked towards the powerhouse, whose name was likely Kiyoshi. He had on a thin white glove on that hand accompanied by his enlistment wristband. His hair was as black as night and reached down to his shoulders. His bangs were incredibly long as well, but they seemed to be methodically parted as not to hide his eyes from the world. He had on a white, long sleeve, collared shirt with a black tie that ran down it as if he was at some sort of business meeting, and his face was remarkably handsome. He seemed to be some kind of upper-class individual.

"What do you want, Edward?" Kiyoshi opened one eye to look at the distinguished boy named Edward. Considering the two knew each others' names, it was safe to say they were in the same grade.

"Come now, no need to be so hostile," Edward said playfully, but in a posh manner, putting his hand to his chest.

"Are you here to try and eliminate me? If so, you should've snuck up from behind."

"You insult me with such barbaric tactics. I'm simply here to challenge you to a friendly duel."

"I've no interest in your duel," Kiyoshi said sharply, opening his other eye and furrowing his eyebrows. "The only reason you're here is in an attempt to assert your dominance over me. Leave my sight or be eliminated, I don't really care which."

"You act as if you can defeat me so easily."

"Do you have a contradiction?"

Edward gave a puzzled look, but closed his eyes and laughed in a dignified manner, putting the back of his hand up against his mouth as he did so.

"I see," he said with an everlasting grin. "Well, it appears I'll have to demonstrate my power to you, won't I? The power of a Class A student, that is."

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