Chapter 122: Fear Of The Unknown

Chapter 122: Fear Of The UnknownChapter 122

"Will you announce the results... or should I?" Elexa asked calmly, her voice slicing through the silence like a blade. She glanced at the referee, who was still frozen in place, unable to process what he had just witnessed.

"Referee?" she asked again, her tone now a notch sharper.

"Ah! Y-Yes!" The referee snapped back to reality, nearly stumbling as he rushed toward Stopper’s unmoving body. A quick inspection revealed that he was alive—barely. The man would survive, but a long coma awaited him.

The referee glanced back at Elexa, who was waving at the crowd with an angelic smile. A shiver ran down his spine. That smile wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t threatening. Yet it scared him more than any bloodthirsty grin ever could. It was the power behind it—the sheer, overwhelming presence she radiated—that made his hands tremble.

Stopper had torn through several opponents during the selection matches, some of whom were also A-rankers. Yet when he stood before Elexa... he hadn’t even lasted twenty seconds.

She was simply too—

Terrifying.

"The winner of the third match... is Elexa!" the referee finally announced.

The arena erupted in thunderous cheers. The outcome had been obvious, but the crowd still roared, thrilled and awestruck by what they’d seen.

Jon, watching from the Vip section, let out a dry chuckle. "She’s even faster than I imagined," he murmured, eyes narrowed as he watched Elexa gracefully exit the stage. "She’s... something else."



He found himself wondering why she hadn’t yet been invited to Class S.

Sure, the hero badge automatically updated through the lower ranks. Once someone reached Rank One, they could be considered for promotion to the next class. But the automatic promotions ended at Class A. To reach Class S, one had to be personally selected. Invited.

Jon, a Class S hero himself, had no doubt—Elexa had what it took.

Maybe the higher-ups were planning something. Or maybe... they were scared.

Meanwhile, in the stands—

"You good?" Han asked, raising a brow at Aiden, who was grinning wider than usual as he stared at Elexa descending the stage.

"What?" Aiden shrugged, still smiling. "Can’t I cheer for her?"

Han narrowed his eyes. Aiden was definitely falling for her.

He glanced at Elexa again. Her face might be cute... innocent, even. But her match had proven she was anything but.

Han placed a hand on Aiden’s shoulder and sighed, shaking his head in mock pity. "I think you’ve got terrible taste."

Aiden raised a brow, confused. Han just ignored him after that.

As Elexa stepped off the platform, the referee’s voice rang out once more.

"Now calling the participants for the fourth match!"

Two figures emerged simultaneously from opposite sides of the arena.

On one side stood a young man whose very presence radiated warmth. His short black hair shimmered with faint blue at the tips. He wore a simple white T-shirt—but anyone with a trained eye could tell it was no ordinary shirt. It shimmered faintly, pulsing with hidden power. Likely embedded with an internal barrier—costly, rare, and vastly more effective than typical protection gear.

Everyone in the audience knew his name.

Balor.

The Stealth King.

A-Class Hero, Rank 3.

One of the legendary A6.

On the other side stood a figure cloaked in pure darkness. No features were visible—no eyes, no skin, no mouth. Only swirling shadows that clung to him like a living abyss.

Looking at him gave one a strange sensation.

As if... he was there.

And also not there.

As if he existed—

And also didn’t.

He was a presence. A void.

A mystery wrapped in silence.

He was known only as The Null.

A-Class Hero. Rank One.

An enigma among elites.

In the spectator stands, Ronan turned toward Han, noting the deep furrow in his brows.

So, he felt it too.

That unsettling aura radiating from The Null—a presence that was anything but ordinary.

Ronan’s eyes returned to the shadow-cloaked figure standing silently on the arena stage. "The Null"—a name given simply because no one knew his real one. In fact, no one knew anything about him.

The only reason people even assumed he was male came from survivors of the Sendok Calamity—one of the worst disasters in recent history. Those few who lived claimed they were rescued by a man’s voice, calm and commanding, whispering through the smoke and chaos before vanishing into the shadows.

And that voice... belonged to the being now called The Null.

---

In the VIP section, both The Beast and The Undying Flame wore conflicted expressions as they watched The Null with narrowed eyes.

They didn’t hate him. They couldn’t. He had saved thousands—maybe millions—during the Sendok Calamity. For that alone, they had offered him a place among Class S heroes.

But he declined.

So instead, they unanimously placed him at the top of Class A, naming him Rank One—a symbolic gesture of gratitude.

Still, something about him had never sat right with them.

Over the years, they had tried everything to uncover the truth: background checks, data traces, magical archives, lineage records—nothing. No birth, no ID, no family, no trace of origin. It was as if he had materialized out of the void.

A complete anomaly.

And the fear of the unknown?

It was more terrifying than any monster.

---

"Do you think Balor stands a chance?" The Undying Flame asked, feigning casual interest.

The Beast chuckled, low and dry. "Come on... you and I both know he doesn’t."

It wasn’t a mockery of Balor’s strength. Balor was Rank 3 in Class A for a reason. He was deadly, fast, and efficient. But The Null? He wasn’t simply strong.

He was incomprehensible.

Neither of them had ever fought The Null directly—but they had seen what he was capable of. And if even they couldn’t imagine beating him, how could Balor?

What worried them more wasn’t the outcome of the match.

It was why The Null was even here in the first place.

And that... they didn’t know.



---

Back in the stands, Han stared at the arena, his jaw tense.

Let’s see just how strong you really are.

The referee stepped forward.

"Let the fourth match of the Tournament of Power... begin!"

Snap!

A loud bang echoed across the arena, signaling the start. But neither fighter moved. They stood still—statues locked in a silent analysis of one another.

Balor, ever the respectful fighter, offered a slight bow. "It’s an honor," he said calmly, his tone reverent. He wasn’t just being polite—he was a fan.

The Null was, by all accounts, the longest-standing Class A hero still active. His reputation was legendary. His power, unfathomable. And his mystery... intoxicating.

Balor smiled slightly. "I’m ready when you are."

The Null gave a silent nod, swirling shadows rippling around his featureless form. No words. No sound.

Just silence.

Balor shot forward, his movement a blur—eyes locked on The Null. It looked like a direct assault.

Then—he vanished.

Not a teleport.

He slipped into the void.

A ripple of energy shimmered faintly, and for a heartbeat, the arena fell silent.

BAM!

The Null’s hand snapped out, faster than any eye could track, intercepting a strike from his right side. His fingers clenched around Balor’s fist, dragging him out of the void like pulling a shadow from the dark.

Without pause, The Null delivered a short, casual punch to Balor’s face.

To the crowd, it looked almost gentle. Harmless.

But to Balor?

It felt like getting hit by a collapsing building.

He was launched backward, skidding across the arena for several meters before digging his heels in and managing to stop. Blood welled up in his mouth, and he swallowed it hard.

He wiped his lip, eyes narrowing.

That... was a testing blow.

Just a taste. Not even serious. Yet it nearly broke him.

Balor’s thoughts raced.

Super strength. It has to be. That’s the only logical explanation.

But strength wasn’t what truly unsettled him.

It was The Null’s face—those swirling voids. Looking into them made Balor feel something foreign, something he had trained his entire life to suppress:

Fear.

Fear of what he didn’t understand.

Fear of the unknown.

Gritting his teeth, Balor decided to change tactics. He dashed forward again, then vanished into the void—attacking from new angles, faster, sharper, less predictable.

But every strike was blocked.

Effortlessly.

It was like sparring with a god who had already seen every move before it was made.

They exchanged a flurry of blows—each one faster and more intense—but the pattern never shifted. Balor was always just a moment too slow, a fraction too weak. He retreated into the void again and reappeared several meters away, panting.

At least his stealth skill gave him an advantage: Void Stealth—a ability that rendered him invisible and intangible for short distances. Perfect for spies, assassins... and last-minute retreats.

Then he saw it.

The Null raised a hand toward him—slow, deliberate.

Balor’s instincts screamed.

He’s planning to end this.

Panic surged in his chest. He couldn’t go down like this. Not without landing a real blow.

Not in front of everyone.


He launched himself into the void again, preparing a surprise strike—

And then The Null clenched his fist.

Balor felt... nothing.

His body, halfway into the attack, locked up. His senses screamed. He tried to shift, to escape into the void again—

It didn’t work.

His eyes widened in horror.

Only two possibilities existed:

Either his energy was depleted (impossible—his core was still full)

Or...

The void itself had been sealed.

He sealed off the space.



Just like that.

Instantly.

How!? No one—no human—should be capable of that.

Before he could process further—

BOOM!

The Null’s fist struck Balor square in the chest. Pain exploded through his ribs as he was sent flying, his mind a storm of confusion and fear.

He... he sealed the void. How?!

Is he... even human?

---

To be continued...

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