Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

That evening, the War Academy community was already buzzing with headlines.

“Shocking! First year competing and they’ve reached the semifinals!”

“Hollow Fortress in the semis—are they already on par with the Four Great Academies?”

“Fairness of the Four Great Academies questioned: Principal Neville’s remarks spark debate.”

The stories spread like wildfire, and Hollow Fortress students flooded the feeds with support for their school.

......

“Yeah, I understand.”

In Shiverstone City, Tristan set down his phone in his temporary office, his expression calm as stone.

The assistant hovering nearby had been waiting. The moment Tristan hung up, she leaned forward. “Was that the Deputy Minister?”

Tristan nodded, unhurried. “The boss says if we’re not confident about tomorrow’s fight, we should release a statement tonight to cool things down.”

“So… what’s your move?” She was already reaching for her notepad, ready to draft.

“Nothing.” Tristan lifted his teacup and drank slowly.

“Nothing? Won’t the Deputy Minister be pissed?”

Tristan smiled faintly. “Maybe. But what difference would an explanation make? Do you think a press release would help?”

She hesitated, then lowered her pen. Tristan checked his watch. “It’s late. Get some rest. We’ll let the results speak tomorrow.”

Axel and the others had no idea how much noise the match had already stirred.

After a night of rest, at exactly nine o’clock the next morning, Bradley’s voice thundered across the sixteen peaks:

“Semifinals begin in five minutes. Competitors, prepare yourselves.”

Umar, Richard, and Yakov emerged, sharp and focused. Their demeanor was nothing like the day before.

They were clearly outmatched in raw strength compared to Hollow Fortress’s lineup—five nobles, four ranked in the top fifty—but not one of them looked afraid.

“Where’s Yara?” Yakov muttered, glancing around.

Right then, Yara appeared. Dressed in a white training suit, her steps were quiet but her eyes were steady as she stopped in front of Axel. Her voice was calm, but her intent burned through every word.

“Axel, today—I want you to fight with everything you’ve got.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. Axel could feel the intensity rolling off her. He leaned closer, a faint smile tugging at his lips, and whispered in her ear:

“I came here for the championship.”

Yara blinked, surprised, then gave a sudden smile. “That arrogance—I like it.”

Before she could say more, white light swallowed them whole. The arena shifted, dropping them into darkness. Beneath their feet was a ten-square-meter platform, a lone pillar rising out of a bottomless abyss.

“What the hell is this place?” Richard muttered.

Beyond the platform stretched a cliff. The only way forward was a path two meters wide, leading off into the black.

Bradley’s voice boomed again.

“The mode is Capture the Flag. The path leads to the central peak. First team to seize the flag wins.”

“All other rules remain the same. Anyone who falls into the abyss is eliminated.”

The words hadn’t even finished echoing before Yara bolted down the path, her white figure a blur.

“Yara, wait—” Richard started, but Axel was already sprinting after her without hesitation.

“Tch. Didn’t expect a setup like this. It’s a damn race,” Umar spat, and dashed forward as well.

Yakov and Richard followed, though neither were built for speed. Within moments, they’d completely lost sight of the front-runners.

Richard finally slowed, panting. “What’s the point? We’re never catching up. Let’s just—wait and see.”

“Are you fucking stupid?” Yakov barked. “You think this is just about running? We don’t even know how big the central peak is! By the time we show up, Hollow Fortress will already be there. Then it’s a straight-up bayonet fight!.”

Richard blinked, realization hitting him. “Shit. You’re right.” He took off again. “Then I would leave you behind.”

Yakov’s face twisted. Now he was the slowest of the bunch. Psychic Awakened weren’t built for sprinting, and he knew it.

Grinding his teeth, he muttered, “But Axel’s a healer… how the hell is he that fast?”

Yakov wasn’t the only one puzzled. Umar had started just ten seconds behind Axel—nothing he couldn’t close if he pushed harder. Ranked in the top twenty on the Intelligence Bureau’s charts, he was no slouch. Ten minutes of full-out sprinting later, however, Axel had completely vanished.

“How the hell is a healer faster than me?” Umar muttered. “Don’t tell me the bastard tripped and broke his ankle…”

“Getting there first means avoiding a fight. These rules work in our favor.”

Yara was a blur in the darkness, laser-focused, eating up the ground without wasting a drop of energy. She couldn’t tell how far she’d run anymore. The path wasn’t straight; sharp bends came out of nowhere, and at less than two meters wide, one reckless sprint could send her tumbling into the abyss. Besides, she couldn’t be sure Hollow Fortress wasn’t closing in from another route. If they arrived together, bloodshed was inevitable.

Then it hit her—a surge of Force power behind her, sharp and heavy, like a wave slamming into her back. A figure flickered into view, half a meter behind.

Her eyes widened. “Ax… Axel?!”

If Umar had gone all-out, she’d expect him to close the gap. But Axel? She hadn’t sensed him until now.

“You’re a healer! How are you this fast?” Yara demanded. But then she steadied, catching the fluctuation in his aura. Her sharp eyes narrowed. “Wait… that kind of compression—are you a Level Four Top Grade?”

Force compression defined mastery: lower, middle, upper. Over 80% meant Top Grade. Axel wasn’t quite there, hovering at just over 60%, but his raw Force reserves were so vast it gave the *impression* of Top Grade.

“Almost,” Axel said with a crooked grin. Then he tapped his boot, where a faint glow shimmered. “Mostly thanks to this.”

“The hell—another Original Instrument?” Yara’s shock turned quickly into relief. Axel had been hiding cards all along. “That’s damn good news.”

She exhaled, then shot him a wary look. “Still… don’t blow everything on running. You’ll need your Force intact.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Axel nodded. Without the boots, he couldn’t hope to match her. Yara’s awakened gift—Fighting God—gave her reflexes and agility that outclassed him in every way. The Cloud Chasing Boots were the equalizer, and for a while, they let him pull ahead.

But after twenty minutes of burning through Force, the summit was still nowhere in sight. Burning out before they even reached the fight would be humiliating. The Life Crystal crossed his mind, but he pushed it away. The organizers had said anything but elixirs was fair game—but an Original Instrument’s sudden energy spike would be hard to miss. Not worth the risk.

So he let the boots’ glow fade and settled into his natural pace.

That was when he noticed something Yara hadn’t.

“…Hold on. What’s that?”

Axel’s gaze flicked right. Through the thinning fog, another path stretched out, parallel to theirs, only a couple kilometers away. It looked just as narrow, just as precarious.

“Could that be Hollow Fortress’s route?”

The distance was too far, the light too dim. No time to investigate. He kept running, though the thought nagged at him.

Yara had been right—pacing himself had saved him. After forty minutes, the suffocating black haze thinned, and at the end of the path, a jagged peak finally came into view. Still a ways off, but close enough to taste. If he’d gone all-out with the boots earlier, he would’ve burned out halfway and been fucked.

And now, that parallel track to the right was in full view—barely two kilometers away, rising like another cliff-edge highway. Empty for now. But for how long?

Yara kept her pace steady, sweat dampening her forehead though her face remained calm, almost expressionless.

Then suddenly, the darkness ahead thinned. A flash of light tore through the murk, and in an instant her vision cleared. Dim glimmers lit the path several kilometers ahead, and for the first time, she could see the end.

But she wasn’t alone.