The battle was so one-sided that it was almost laughable to call it the team battle, the so-called highlight of the grand Unity Games. The hunters, flustered by the cold, found their feet frozen, their movements momentarily restricted, and Sa-yoon did not miss the opening. He drew upon his frost energy, and his eyes, now turned a chilling blue, scanned the space with killing intent.

Crack, crackle!

The water vapor generated by the Pale Day skill cooled and condensed, forming dozens of ice shards that floated in the air.

With a flick of his finger, the shards shot forward, mercilessly piercing the bodies of the Japanese hunters. Arms, abdomens, backs, thighs—the locations of the injuries were varied. The hunters, who had no time to block the incoming shards, stifled their groans and broke free from their restraints, forming a semicircle.

“They’re coming,” Mi-jeong warned. The Japanese hunters, now in their respective positions, gripped the hilts of their swords and drew them in unison.

Kzzzzzzzt!

Sparks flew as blades scraped against scabbards. They hadn’t brought a mere rabble, it seemed. As the Japanese hunters unleashed their sword strikes simultaneously, a green electrical energy erupted, engulfing the stadium.

K-K-K-KRAK!

The green light dominated the entire Colosseum, exerting an immense force. Flash! Lightning struck, and a sandstorm kicked up.

“Whoa…”

“…Aren’t they dead?”

“No way, surely not…”

“By the way, what technique is this? I don’t think I saw it at the last Unity Games.”

“Looks like Japan brought a new card to the table.”

The spectators, who had unconsciously pressed themselves back in their seats to get away from the sword energy, belatedly began to murmur, looking down at the stadium. When the thick dust settled, the sight of the stadium was so wrecked that one couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Association President who had arranged it. From the floor to the walls, deep, straight gashes were carved like scars in the direction of the sword strikes, as if a giant beast had attacked. Small concrete particles crumbled and fell from the inner walls. If the building had been even slightly less sturdy, the force would have been enough to split the stadium in two. But that was all it did.

“…How!”

The Japanese hunters’ eyes widened as they stared at the battlefield, now cleared of the green energy, their faces hardened. Ssssh. The black energy and shadow that had enveloped the Noah members receded, revealing them standing perfectly unharmed, without a single hair singed.

“We haven’t been just playing around either.”

It was a skill they had acquired during the special training that brought back memories of their hellish camp. Though it required Yi-han’s support, Mi-jeong, who had created a rather sturdy protective barrier, opened her fan and covered her mouth. The stadium buzzed with excitement, and a deep smile graced Sa-yoon’s lips.

“You should return what you receive.”

With a snap of his fingers, a shower of ice shards rained down again. The Japanese hunters bit their lips at the sight of Sa-yoon fighting with only flicks of his hand, not moving a single step from his spot.

“Everyone, scatter and attack! Distract him as much as possible!”

They roared, clearly having no intention of going down without a fight. As the leader’s command was given, they moved in perfect unison. Sa-yoon glanced at them and sneered. He could track them if he wanted to, but why bother? There were far easier ways.

“Dong-ju.”

“Looks like you’ve decided to toss respect out the window.”

“What’s new?”

He shot him a look, and Bae Dong-ju, despite his expression of utter disgust, waved his hand. As if painting with a brush, his fluid movements caused blue water to suddenly spring forth in the middle of the stadium. Hup! With a sharp exhale, Bae Dong-ju exerted his power, and the water instantly became a tidal wave that swept up the scattering Japanese hunters.

“Move fiercely.”

The water, responding to the whisper, churned and pulled the hunters toward the center. The Japanese Awakeners swung their swords and screamed, trying to escape, but it was not something they could easily break free from.

It was the aquatic hell that even Sa-yoon, who had given him the idea for the application skill and personally trained him, had struggled against.

Sa-yoon, inwardly praising the man who was now deploying the skill much more proficiently than when they were in the gate, turned his gaze to the swirling vortex of the tidal wave. Crack, crackle, crack. The blue water froze, and the Japanese hunters were left completely immobilized. Literally pinned within a sculpture of ice. Sa-yoon savored the sight of their trembling, trapped eyes and clenched his fist.

BOOOOOOOOOM!

The ice statue exploded with a deafening roar. Shards flew in all directions, and the Japanese hunters were sent flying north, south, east, and west, slamming into the walls. Sa-yoon aimed the ice shards at the heads of the seemingly unconscious figures and looked at the referee. The referee, who had been silent at Korea’s unexpected performance, stammered for a moment before frantically blowing his whistle.

“The Japanese team is unable to battle! The Korean team, Noah, is the winner!”

As the result was announced, the section where the Korean spectators were seated began to buzz. Soon, cheers filled the stadium, and the interview with the winning team began. While the restoration mages repaired the stadium, Sa-yoon and the Noah members came forward for the interview, their faces showing no signs of fatigue. Since Sa-yoon was the only one who had exerted any real power in this battle, it was only natural that everyone’s face was still fresh.

An interviewer approached, smiling, and held up a microphone. She offered her congratulations, an unusual gesture, and announced the VIP of the match. The chosen one was, as everyone had expected, Sa-yoon. The interviewer, with a bright smile, inwardly tilted her head in confusion as she saw the team members, who should have been congratulating him, were all either sweating, staring into the distance, or sighing.

‘What’s wrong with them?’

Despite her question, the reporter, showing her professionalism, readjusted her grip on the microphone.

“Congratulations, Mr. Sa-yoon! The highlight of the match is now being shown on the big screen, and the skill you used at the beginning was particularly impressive. We understand this is your debut stage at the Unity Games. How are you feeling right now?”

The reporter recited her prepared script with clear, precise pronunciation and handed the microphone to Sa-yoon. Haaa. A sigh, whose owner was unclear, brushed past the reporter’s ear as Sa-yoon’s lips parted.

“The duration of the skill I used at the beginning is five minutes. The fact that they crumbled without even lasting those five minutes, I have nothing to say other than that I’m disappointed in the skill level of these so-called top Awakeners. I hope the following teams will show a different level of performance. Just as Team Noah has changed.”

“…”

The stadium fell silent at the post-match comment, delivered in a gentle voice that sounded more suited for a love confession, with his eyes curved into crescents and a face that looked so kind and harmless. Even the interviewer was at a loss for words, frozen by the unexpected turn of events.

This is the stuff.

Sa-yoon, who reveled in flustering people, concluded by saying he hoped it would be an enjoyable Unity Games. He then handed back the microphone and walked away. The gazes of everyone present, as if by prior agreement, were fixed on him, following his every step.

“Aren’t you coming, Geon-joo?”

Even in the midst of it all, he didn’t forget to look after Geon-joo. As Sa-yoon headed for the ready room, the other Noah members shook their heads and patted the reporter’s shoulder one by one. The reporter, who had just been consoled by five people in a row, held her microphone and broke out in a cold sweat as she looked at the audience section, which had gone from cold to radiating killing intent in an instant.

“Th-that concludes our interview with Mr. Sa-yoon.”

The reporter, though she was cursing Sa-yoon’s outrageous remarks internally, maintained a professional smile on the outside and managed to wrap up the situation before making her exit. The next match began immediately to prevent the situation from becoming awkward, but the crowd still looked as if they hadn’t moved on from the previous interview.

Some cursed, some scoffed, and some chugged their beers, praising his spirit. Somewhere, a fight had broken out, and the voice of a staff member trying to break it up could be heard. Geon-joo glanced at the commotion behind him, then leaned toward Sa-yoon.

“The five-minute duration for the skill you used at the beginning, was that for real?”

He asked so innocently.

Sa-yoon chuckled at the expression that seemed to ask why he would expose information that could be a weakness, that seemed to tell him to be more careful.

“You think it’s real?”

“…”

“What?”

“I thought it might not be, but you really have a nasty personality, hyung.”

To Sa-yoon, that was a compliment. Was it his fault? Was it not the fault of the foolish enemies who would believe what he said in a public interview and stubbornly base their strategy on it? Unless they were exceptionally honest, no hunter would believe his previous interview at face value. Humming a tune and saying he was looking forward to the next match, Sa-yoon headed back to the stage after about three more matches for the second round of the team battle, and burst into laughter.

“Wow… I thought anyone but the honest ones would be fine, but of all the people, it had to be them.”

He had more or less expected it from looking at the tournament bracket, but as expected, their next opponent was China’s Crimson Flame Guild. A group that had all of China’s top hunters in one team, to the point that the government didn’t even need to form a separate team; they themselves had become the representatives of China at the Unity Games.

Sa-yoon greeted the head of China’s largest guild, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, and stood before Jin Fen. During the time before the match when they faced each other and bowed, Jin Fen spoke first.

“You’ve acquired an interesting skill.”

“Ah, that one’s similar to yours, isn’t it?”

“…”

Jin Fen’s brow twitched at his words. Sa-yoon, who had said it just to provoke him, let out a small laugh and enjoyed the sight of his hardened expression before returning to his position at the sound of the announcement. The referee raised his hand, signaling them to get ready.

Pweeeeeeet!

The moment the whistle blew, Jin Fen slammed his fists together and then pulled them apart.

K-K-KRAK! The ground vibrated, and five pillars shot up from the stadium, emitting a brilliant light. The magnificent light captured everyone’s attention, shining so brightly it threatened to steal their sight. When it faded, the place where Noah and Crimson Flame were standing was no longer a stadium.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The sound of stomping feet echoed loudly as the attire of the Crimson Flame Guild’s hunters changed.

‘Murim Reconstruction’! The area transforms into a Murim.>