Chapter 104: Disappointment

Chapter 104: DisappointmentChapter 104

A young teenager with long black hair stood calmly at the center of a wide clearing, surrounded by more than thirty opponents. But unlike what one might expect, there was no fear in his eyes—no hint of anxiety. Instead, he smiled.

"Finally... I get to stretch my muscles," Jay said softly, cracking his neck as he surveyed the crowd forming a circle around him.

One of the men stepped forward with a mocking grin. "You really don’t get it, do you?" he sneered. "You’re outnumbered. This isn’t bravery—it’s stupidity."

Jay turned his head, fixing his gaze on the man who spoke. His expression didn’t change. That calm, almost amused smile never left his face.

"I just hope you’re worthy of being called a challenger," he said with a smirk.

That subtle taunt sent a jolt of irritation through the man’s body. He gritted his teeth and gathered his energy, preparing to launch his attack—only for a blur to pass in front of everyone.

CRACK. THUD.

The man was on the ground before anyone could even blink, unconscious. No one had seen what happened. All they knew was that Jay hadn’t even moved a full step—and yet his opponent was already down.

Gasps echoed around the circle. One of them whispered, "W-What just happened?"

Jay clicked his tongue, clearly unimpressed. "That was it? Just one kick and he’s out cold? Are Awakeners really this weak?" he muttered, disappointed.



The rest of the group snapped into action, driven by fear and pride. Elemental attacks surged through the air. Some charged with brute strength, others activated physical and mystical abilities. All of them had the same goal: land a single hit on Jay.

Jay tilted his head slightly, then dropped into a low sprinting stance.

FWOOM.

He vanished again.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

In mere seconds, bodies littered the ground—defeated, unconscious, humiliated. Only about ten remained, all trembling as they realized far too late that they had picked the wrong fight.

Jay exhaled, bored. "You guys are seriously boring."

He glanced at the remaining opponents, the same soft smile lingering on his face. "If this is all an Awakener has to offer, maybe I should just quit this tournament..."

Then came laughter—unhinged, manic.

One of the remaining men, now kneeling on the ground and trembling with anxiety, was laughing like a lunatic.


"You think you’re invincible," he said between hysterical giggles. "But if you ever go up against one of the A6, you won’t even have time to breathe before you’re on the floor."

The others froze, terrified that this madman’s big mouth would drag them all into something worse. They wanted to scream, to beg him to shut up.

Jay turned his gaze on the laughing man. Still smiling. Still calm.

Then he began walking toward him.

"Tell me..." Jay said softly, "Where can I find this so-called A6?"

_ _ _ _

Elsewhere in the Gold Portal

In another zone of the battlefield, a confident group of Awakeners moved with cold efficiency. They were certain—dead certain—that they had the best chance of winning this preliminary match and entering the Grand Tournament of Power.

Their confidence wasn’t blind arrogance—it was backed by structure.

Their team formation was near perfect:

Six elite front-line combatants.

Two sturdy defenders with powerful barrier abilities.

Three support user capable of both buffs and debuffs.

And two well-trained healers.

With such balance, they had steamrolled every opponent so far. Teams with brute strength, speed, or even rare elemental skills had fallen before their coordination. The healers made every injury meaningless, and the support specialist ensured the enemy never fought at full power. By now, they had wiped out at least three groups and were rapidly collecting shards from their victims.

At this rate, they were convinced: Victory was inevitable.

---

High above them, on a crumbling structure that looked like the remains of an old arena, two figures stood silently—watching.

A guy and a lady. Both wore blank, unreadable expressions. Their eyes were focused on the confident squad below.

"Think they’re worth it?" the guy asked. His name was Argon, his tone deadpan.

Beside him, Kalen didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze never left the group. After a beat, she said simply, "Let’s find out."

Without warning, she leapt from the structure, landing with eerie grace right in front of the squad. Argon followed a second later, landing beside her.

The squad halted, startled by the sudden appearance of the two strangers.



Kalen tilted her head. "Are you strong?"

The question was so blunt it made the group blink. Then came the confusion, followed by mocking laughter.

"Are they serious?" one of the combatants scoffed. "Do they not see our numbers?"

Another growled, stepping forward. "You must be out of your mind. Standing there like that means you’ve already given up. Let me do you a favor and take your shard."

He approached quickly, extending his hand arrogantly toward the pair.

"Stop—" the team leader began, but it was too late.

The man reached out, smirking. "Are you deaf? I said hand over your—"

CRACK.

A sickening snap echoed as his arm twisted unnaturally. Before he could even scream, a backhand from Argon sent him flying like a ragdoll straight into the rest of the group, crashing into them in a heap of limbs and groans.

"Attack!" the leader roared.

The squad surged forward. The leader, a burly man wielding a massive battle axe with a curled blade, charged at Argon head-on.

He swung the axe with all his strength—

But it never landed.

Argon’s fist moved. It didn’t touch the axe—but a concussive force surged outward, knocking the weapon off-course and embedding it into the ground.

Before the man could react, Argon seized both his arms with terrifying grip strength. Snap. Crunch. Bones shattered like twigs. The leader howled, his scream raw and guttural—then went silent as Argon slammed him into the ground with such force that dust exploded upward.

The healers and support specialists sprang into action, but they never got the chance.

SCREEEEECH—

A sonic wave ripped through the air, unleashed from Kalen’s mouth. Invisible but brutal, it tore through the squad’s bodies and minds. The support users screamed, blood pouring from their eyes, ears, and noses. One by one, they collapsed—nervous systems fried, consciousness lost.

The defenders were next. Argon dealt with them swiftly—brutally. Their fate made the first victim seem lucky.

When it was over, broken bodies littered the battlefield. Groans of pain were the only sounds in the silence.

Kalen looked down at the ruined team, her voice cold.

"They were just like the others. Weak."

Argon gave a single nod. "Still no real fight..."

Only one thought echoed between them now: The real tournament better be more entertaining.

Without another word, they vanished—off to bring misery to the next unlucky group.

_ _ _ _ _

At the Red Portal

A lone figure stood in a shadowy forest clearing, staring down at three unconscious men with destroyed shards scattered around them. His hair was split evenly—white on one side, black on the other. A calm, bored expression sat on his face.

[5/1000 Opponents Defeated]

Han sighed. "Only five...?"

He’d spent the last thirty minutes searching for targets. The forest terrain was vast and confusing, making encounters rare. But his mission was clear—defeat 1000 opponents within the time limit to unlock a unique reward.

A reward he needed.

Something that might help his twin siblings.

He picked up his pace.



"With this speed, I’ll never make it," heWith each step he took, two new clones emerged beside him. After a minute, over thirty identical copies flanked him, all poised for combat.

"Find and eliminate all nearby participants. Destroy their shards," Han commanded.

The clones nodded and scattered in every direction.

Still, Han didn’t feel satisfied.

This wasn’t fast enough.

"Ifrit."

A burst of flames ignited beside him, forming into a towering elemental wreathed in fire. When the inferno faded, the blazing spirit floated beside Han, its eyes glowing with feral intensity.

Han extended his hand.

"Merge," he ordered.

The flames surged forward, wrapping around Han’s body as Ifrit fused with him. His aura exploded outward, cracking the ground beneath his feet as waves of heat rippled through the trees.

Now he was ready to accelerate.

To be continued...