The instant Balling shouted “GO!”, chaos erupted.

  Eryndor’s team launched forward in a blur, wind tearing at their cloaks. Juvian floated above them with serene control, while Valtos sprinted alongside Ziraiah—his movements sharp, fluid… unnervingly powerful.

  Ziraiah blinked. “Wait a minute… did you get bigger?”

  Valtos smirked without turning. “Eyes in front of you.”

  She narrowed her gaze. No human should move like this… and he’s definitely taller. What are you?

  Elsewhere, Valerius tore across the terrain like a cannonball, Kaelan and Elsa streaking just behind him in tight formation. Wind howled around them. Valerius’s eyes darted to the right—Eliana was there, keeping pace, her expression calm but competitive.

  She glanced left and caught sight of him. Her brows rose. Challenge accepted.

  With a burst of speed, Eliana surged ahead.

  Valerius smiled. So that’s how it is?

  He pushed harder and overtook her.

  Eliana scowled. “Oh, you’re on.”

  She bolted forward again, legs pumping with ferocious speed—until she looked back and saw… nothing. Valerius was gone.

  She chuckled to herself. “Thought you could keep up, huh?”

  But a voice calmly drifted in from her side:

  “Of course I can… Eliana.”

  She gasped and snapped her head to the left. He was right there.

  “You,” she said, stunned.

  “Me,” Valerius answered, grinning. “Didn’t expect to see a princess in a place like this.”

  She yelled, “How did you get so big?!”

  He laughed. “Three meals a day… and I drank all my milk.”

  Maloi joined the pack and narrowed her eyes. “And you are?”

  Valerius nodded. “Lerius.”

  Just then, Kaelan and Elsa caught up. “You really ditched us?” Kaelan barked.

  Valerius smirked. “Did you forget? This is a competition.”

  Then Balling’s voice echoed across the island:

  “OH—ALMOST FORGOT. YOU CAN DIE IN THIS ROUND TOO. GOOD LUCK!”

  Eliana was mid-question when Valerius’s eyes twitched. He saw it—a glint, slicing the air.

  Time slowed.

  An arrow was flying straight for Eliana’s face.

  Without thinking, Valerius reached up and snatched it mid-flight. A moment later, he flicked it with casual precision—launching it straight back toward the treeline.

  “Pay attention,” he said calmly.

  Up ahead, a monstrous horde of creatures emerged—feral, twisted beings barely humanoid, standing five feet tall, thousands in number. Each held crude bows, already drawn.

  They let loose.

  A storm of arrows blotted the sky.

  Eliana clapped her hands together.

  The ground ruptured—and an army of vines exploded upward, weaving a tangled dome of protection. Thousands of arrows were caught mid-air in a web of greenery.

  Elsa’s breath caught. She stopped every single one… the precision… it’s insane.

  “Jump!” Maloi’s voice rang out.

  All five leaped skyward.

  As they rose, Maloi dropped down—her heel crashing into the earth.

  A glacier’s roar answered her.

  From the impact point, a tidal wave of ice surged forward—devouring the ground, racing outward in a shining wave. In seconds, the entire battlefield ahead was frozen for kilometers. Every creature, arrow, and blade trapped in jagged white death.

  From above, Elsa’s eyes widened in awe.

  How powerful are these people?

  ---

  From deep beneath the battlefield, the ground split apart—and something colossal stirred.

  A volcanic tremor shook the island as a titan of stone and molten lava erupted from the earth, towering nearly 200 feet tall. A spirit forged of fury and flame. Its molten eyes blazed like furnaces. With a guttural roar, it brought both arms crashing down.

  BOOM.

  The shockwave flattened dozens of challengers. Screams erupted. Dust and mana exploded into the air.

  Valerius turned, eyes locking on the beast. He smiled—calm, unafraid.

  “I’ll handle this,” he said softly.

  He crouched, muscles coiling, then launched.

  BOOM—the earth cracked where he’d stood.

  In a blur, he shot toward the spirit, circling around its massive body in a spiraling arc—his movement so fast it left afterimages. He leapt into the sky, flipped mid-air, and brought his right heel down like a hammer.

  BOOOOM.

  His foot connected with the titan’s skull. The impact unleashed a thunderous shockwave that carved a crater in the ground. The lava-spirit collapsed, its head pulverized—shattered like brittle stone under divine pressure.

  Winds howled outward, blowing away anything not anchored down.

  Far off, Eryndor’s team felt the tremor. Yelleen spoke.

  “…I’m connected to him,” she whispered. “Valerius. He’s here.”

  Ziraiah spun around. “What?! Send him a message—now!”

  In the center of a 20-meter-wide crater, Valerius stood tall—shoulders rising and falling. His vision flickered. A message blinked before his eyes:

  Ziraiah: You stupid idiot. Where have you been.

  Valerius’s eyes lit up. He laughed.

  “Ziraiah?!”

  He shouted into the sky, “ZIRAAIAAAH!”

  Valerius barked with joy and sent a reply:

  Valerius: It’s been so long, you little twerp.

  I missed you more than I’ll admit.

  Then another message flashed across his sight.

  Eryndor: Barbarian, I am genuinely pleased to see you’ve survived. It would seem this journey was not in vain after all.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Valerius grinned.

  Valerius: Oh noble brother, I am back indeed.

  Ziraiah: Where are you?

  He looked around at the smoldering battlefield and answered.

  Valerius: Where the giant lava spirit was.

  Eryndor: Our arrival is imminent.

  Not far away, Eliana watched from behind a boulder, eyes wide.

  “…He was so powerless before. Now he’s… killing spirits? I thought we couldn't touch those things.”

  “We can't, I don't know how he did it,” Maloi whispered.

  But there was no time to dwell.

  Elsewhere, Eryndor’s team was charging across a trap-ridden field. Glyphs on the ground lit up. Suddenly, turrets—magic-powered machine guns—emerged from hidden panels.

  They opened fire.

  The bullets screamed through the air at speeds too fast for even Eryndor to react. They were shot from the sky and crashed down. The bullets deflected off their skin but it still hurt. So he and Ziraiah cast defensive barriers, but the sheer force pushed them back.

  Juvian raised a spherical shield of layered mana, curling inside.

  Isabela growled, casting Indomitable Defense. Her skin shimmered with a metallic gleam. Bullets ricocheted off her arms and chest.

  Even with all that, the barrage was overwhelming.

  Except for one.

  Valtos.

  He walked forward—unmoving, unfazed—as the bullets pinged harmlessly off his skin. He didn’t blink. He didn’t flinch.

  It was as if the laws of force and pain didn’t apply to him. He spoke with a deep voice.

  “You’d need the power of a star,” he said coldly, “to so much as graze my flesh.”

  Valtos was now eight feet tall.

  His shirt had been torn away by his growth, revealing a chiseled, almost divine physique. His body was like carved obsidian—rippled muscle, radiant skin, perfectly proportioned.

  He raised his right foot high, knee bent.

  “Magic or not… they’re still just guns. And guns mean nothing to me.”

  He brought his foot down.

  BOOOOOOOOOM.

  The ground imploded. The turrets were crushed into nothingness under a dome of intense gravitational pressure.

  All across the zone, gravity spiked. It felt like the sky itself was pressing down.

  Isabela and Juvian screamed, struggling to remain upright. Craters formed beneath their feet.

  Eryndor gasped. “What is this pressure…?!”

  Dozens of weaker contestants collapsed instantly—bones snapping under the weight. Some were crushed into the ground.

  Even Kaelan and Elsa far away dropped to their knees, gasping.

  Eliana gritted her teeth. Maloi swayed beside her.

  “Is this… Elvis' magic?” Maloi muttered. “It can't be.”

  Valerius felt it, he stood, unfazed.

  The ground trembled as Valtos stood in the center of it all—unshaken, untouchable.

  He was the only human on Plunder Island.

  He believed without a shred of doubt.

  He was the mightiest of them all.

  ---

  Valtos stared forward, unblinking, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk.

  He tilted his head up, eyes scanning the open sky—not at the clouds, not at the sun, but beyond. He knew.

  They were watching.

  ---

  Elsewhere—deep beneath the mainland, inside a shadowy chamber where torches burned blue and the walls hummed with runes, a high council sat in silence. They were cloaked in prestige and secrecy, each draped in ceremonial black robes.

  A massive seer floated in the center of the room, broadcasting a live view of the battlefield. Faces moved across its surface—blurs of power, ambition, and chaos.

  One man sat at the head of the room, dressed in all black. A gleaming obsidian mask concealed his face. His voice was deep, commanding.

  “Give me the data on that one,” he said, pointing at Valtos.

  A subordinate stepped forward. “That’s Valtos Brigarde, sir. An Earther.”

  The masked man tilted his head. “Not a Gifted?”

  “No mana detected. No enchantments. Nothing. And yet…” he hesitated. “We believe he holds a Seed.”

  The masked man leaned forward slightly. “Interesting…”

  Then he gestured to another figure on the screen—tall, lean, wearing a coat that fluttered despite the still air.

  “What about the one beside him? The boy in the coat.”

  The subordinate grew tense. “We… only recovered his name, sir. Eryndor.”

  The masked man narrowed his gaze. “That’s it?”

  “We tried to extract more data when he registered,” the man explained. “But—something happened.”

  The masked figure turned cold. “But what?”

  The subordinate tapped his wristband, and a projection flickered to life. On the screen: a blue symbol, glowing faintly, an ancient rune that pulsed like a heartbeat.

  The room went silent.

  “We’ve only seen this symbol once before,” the subordinate whispered. “When we investigated Pungence.”

  The masked man sat still.

  “You think he works for the Binding Hand?” the masked man asked slowly.

  “We’re not certain… but it’s possible. His sister was beside him. Her data is sealed too.”

  The masked man waved away the screen. “No one seals information from us without reason. Watch them both—closely.”

  ---

  Back on the battlefield…

  Isabela staggered to her feet, struggling to breathe. The weight of Valtos's pressure still lingered in her bones.

  She shouted, “Valtos, that’s enough—stop!”

  Valtos turned his eyes toward her—just his eyes, not his head. Cold, impassive.

  “Who gave you the authority to command me?” he said. “Know… your… place.”

  His voice was velvet and iron.

  Eryndor stepped forward, eyes ablaze. “Stop this, Valtos!”

  But the pressure only grew heavier. Juvian and Isabela were slammed back to their knees, gasping for breath.

  Valtos exhaled. “It seems my words fell on deaf ears.”

  Ziraiah ran to him, desperation in her voice. “Please, Valtos. You’re hurting them.”

  A pause.

  Then—like a switch had been flipped—the crushing gravity vanished.

  The air felt lighter. Juvian collapsed in relief. Isabela coughed, bracing herself.

  Eryndor kept his gaze on Valtos, intense and unflinching.

  Valtos, still not raising his head, said calmly, “Let’s move. This is still a competition.”

  Ziraiah rushed to Isabela’s side, lifting her gently. “You okay?”

  Isabela nodded weakly. “Yeah…”

  Their eyes drifted to Valtos’s back. The way he walked—flawless posture, each step like a drumbeat of dominance. A perfect back. A perfect form.

  And yet, something behind his eyes remained… off.

  He bolted forward without another word.

  The rest of the group followed—hesitant, but moving.

  Ziraiah caught up, glancing at him sideways.

  “Don’t do that again,” she said. “We’re a team.”

  Valtos didn’t reply.

  But his pace slowed just slightly. As if… he’d heard.

  ---

  Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Arrival Zone…

  Valerius, Kaelan, and Elsa pressed forward, weaving through broken terrain and collapsed ruins. The competition had barely begun, and the air was already thick with tension. They entered thick mist.

  Then—Valerius came to a dead stop.

  His heart skipped.

  Everything froze.

  Before him stood a figure draped in white. The battlefield dimmed around her, as if reality itself bent to make room.

  Her black hair fell in waves past her shoulders. Her eyes like emeralds.

  She looked just like—

  “...Mom?” Valerius whispered.

  Lyriana stood there, smiling faintly.

  But something in her gaze was… off.

  His breath caught in his throat.

  Was it real?

  An illusion?

  A trick?

  He stepped forward slowly, heart thudding louder than the chaos behind him.

  "NO, It can't be."

  Valerius stepped forward, voice trembling.

  “How… are you here?”

  Lyriana said nothing at first. She simply walked toward him, her steps graceful and soundless, like a dream wearing flesh.

  Then—she embraced him.

  Warmth.

  Familiar. Absolute.

  Her arms wrapped around him with the gentleness only a mother could offer, and her voice—soft, yet sorrowful—whispered:

  “You’ve been through so much, my sweet boy. I’m sorry… I wasn’t there for you.”

  The moment shattered him.

  Tears burst from Valerius’s eyes. His legs gave out beneath him, and he fell to his knees—arms clinging tightly to his mother’s legs like a child trying to hold the past.

  “I missed you…so much” he choked, sobbing. “Every day—I wondered if I’d ever see you again.”

  Lyriana knelt before him, her touch brushing the tears from his face.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here now. We can be a family again. You, your brother, your sister.”

  She smiled—a sad, haunting thing.

  “You don’t have to keep suffering. You can leave all of this behind… all the fighting, all the pain. Come home. Let’s go back to how we used to be.”

  Valerius blinked, breath trembling. His voice cracked.

  “How… how did you get here?”

  Lyriana lifted her hand and caressed his cheek.

  “You should know by now,” she said gently, “there’s nothing I can’t create. It took time… but I finally found you.”

  She stood and turned.

  With a wave of her hand, a portal bloomed behind her like a painting come alive—spilling golden light.

  On the other side: a sunlit estate, their old home. Untouched. Peaceful. The wind carried the sound of birdsong and rustling leaves.

  “Come,” she said. “Let’s go back.”

  "What about Eryndor and Ziraiah?" Valerius said. Lyriana smiled" I'll come back for them."

  But just as Valerius looked toward the portal—

  BOOM!

  A fist tore through the air like a cannonball—Eliana’s.

  It screamed toward Lyriana’s head like judgment itself.

  CRACK!

  Valerius' arm moved in a blur.

  He caught her fist just inches from impact.

  A violent shockwave tore through the ground around them, flinging dust and dirt into the air.

  For a moment, no one moved. Time held its breath.

  Valerius turned slowly, still gripping Eliana’s arm. His voice low, confused, eyes wide.

  “What… are you doing?”

  Eliana’s gaze wasn’t soft—it was fierce. Calculating. Cold.

  And behind her eyes burned a fear Valerius didn’t understand.

  ---

  To Be Continued...