Divine Beast Ascension

Chapter 420: The Quarterfinals

FWOOSH!

The Thunderbird took off, racing into the sky. It kept a close eye on Vant and never stopped scanning the entire arena. Already, the Thunderbird had witnessed two mighty, feathered beasts get hacked down with ease so it treated Vant as a true threat from the get-go.

Vant, on the other hand, was as calm as always. He was standing still while analyzing the Thunderbird’s flight path. In particular, Vant paid close attention to how much the beast continued to accelerate.

With Vant refusing to move or attack, the Thunderbird soon prepared for his first charge.

Lightning flashed down onto Vant. As Vant evade the strikes, the Thunderbird tucked in its wings to commit to an all-out dive. At the last second the Thunderbird opened its wings, barreling into Vant while doused in sharp winds and electrifying bolts.

And, as the Thunderbird anticipated, Vant’s figure faded away while being torn to shreds from the attack.

A speeding sword appeared in the corner of the Thunderbird’s eye. It was coming from the side, hacking down at the beast’s wing. The Thunderbird cawed and tucked in that wing, creating more wind and lightning to zoom away from danger.

.....

Shing!

Blood splattered but no wings fell to the ground. Astounded and confused from fear, the Thunderbird glanced to its opposite side, the direction it had leaned into to evade the reappearing blade. There was no sword or human in sight but there was a massive, clean gash running from the base of the Thunderbird’s wing down to the bird’s leg.

“IT’S OVER!” bellowed Slazza, offering more emphasis now that they were in the final matches. “The winner is the human from Toxic-shadow Prefecture, whose sword has yet again dashed away our expectations!”

As the crowd went wild, so did some of the prefecture lords.

“Ha, HA!” Warak shouted. “I knew it! No offense, Peimar, but I didn’t think your grandson would figure out the boy’s trick!”

“... No matter. It’s a great learning experience for him, so I won’t complain,” stated Peimar. “It’s a good trick. But the moment someone sees through it, the boy will lose.”

Treeda shrugged. “That may be, but a win is a win.”

After Slazza finished healing the Thunderbird, he shouted again to the audience, “We have our first semifinalist! Our first recipient of the quadrant’s gift! But who else will join them? Up next, we have a clever yet ferocious beast from Toxic-shadow, someone who managed to bring down a legendary dragon! Yet they’re up against one of the quadrant’s finest, someone hand-picked and raised by God Toseko! Contestants, come down!”

The Thunderbird was silent while returning to his seat, though it was glad to get a forgiving smile from his grandfather overhead.

Vant was smiling but quiet. He was too busy wishing Tilgron good luck to say anything more. And Tilgron was busy eyeing and analyzing his opponent, eager to test himself against his strongest opponent yet.

Tilgron was definitely the first of the two combatants to get moving, but Hathal was paying attention this time.

‘Young Master Hathal, are you coming down?’ Narja asked.

Silent, Hathal nodded and got up to his feet. He still seemed bothered to get up, but Hathal would occasionally glance at the large tiger.

Tilgron bowed his head and dropped a knee. “Thank you for coming here today and allowing me to test my strength against the best there is.”

“... At least you understand the difference in our statuses,” Hathal remarked.

Smiling, Slazza asked, “Now, it’s time to begin the next fight! Will the quadrant’s finest stay standing or will the Tundra Tiger of Toxic-shadow force his way into the semifinals, becoming the opponent to his best friend in the next round? Are you two ready? ... FIGHT!”

Frost spread like wildfire as Tilgron charged Hathal. The tiger wore a greedy grin as he hurled frost knives and coated the ground in ice.

Hathal sighed, sidestepping the curving and ever-moving knives as easily as the fireballs from the jackal. Though the attack was more complex, Hathal’s speed was high enough to avoid any serious threat thus far.

Icy pillars began to rocket out of the ground. Everywhere Tilgron went and left frost, ice pillars jutted out to reshape the battleground.

Tilgron also hurled a whistling icy spear, making sure to throw it as fast as possible.

As expected, Hathal still evaded the strike. But it was enough for Tilgron to get a good read on Hathal’s speed.

Icy rocks emerged where Hathal moved to dodge. He evaded those as well, but another spear tore through the air as if using the icy rocks to guide Hathal into the line of fire.

However, Hathal wasn’t fazed. He lifted a hand and put it back down. With a simple, casual motion, a razor-thin wind blade was formed and effortlessly cut the speeding spear in half.

Hathal finally made his move on Tilgron. With wind carrying him, Hathal flanked the tiger in a split second.

“... Disappointing...”

That one word was mumbled as Hathal’s hand slashed into Tilgron’s side.

But Tilgron roared and jumped further into Hathal, getting uncomfortably closer. This made Hathal’s attack feel unnatural and awkward, reducing the strength of the strike. At the same time, Tilgron’s club tail was already in mid-swing and crashing down onto Hathal, now only a breath away from making contact.

Crack! Splat!

“IT’S OVER!”

Breathing heavily for just a moment, Hathal calmed himself. It only took him a second to refocus and return to his careless expression. “... You’re not bad...”

Hathal looked down at his feet. His gaze lingered on the club-like tail that had crashed into the ground. Checking his cheek and clothes to find no cut after his narrow dodge, Hathal started walking back to the seats.

Slazza was busy healing the tiger’s disemboweled abdomen. Smiling, Slazza quietly commented, “You did well against him. You’re the first to make him get serious.”

Tilgron sighed while getting back to his feet. “That’s all I could manage? I have a long way to go...”

Defeated, the tiger was both proud of his efforts and hard on himself for not even leaving a scratch on his opponent. But Tilgron’s silent pondering wasn’t going to stop or stall the exhibition in the slightest.

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