Huang Qi stood in the center, surrounded—but not trapped.
It wasn't that they had cornered him… No. He had chosen to stand in their midst.
Lucian. Lucas. Josè. Ethan. The Japanese swordswoman.
His arms were behind his back, his posture relaxed. Then, slowly, he moved. His right hand came forward, open, calm. His left stayed near his waist, poised. His right foot shifted ahead, left sliding behind in a subtle stance.
He was ready to strike.
Josè and Ethan didn't wait. They knew hesitation would mean defeat.
With roars of defiance, both charged from opposite sides, right fists pulled back—each punch glowing faintly with the resonance of their Will. This wasn't just brute strength. This was their very spirit in motion.
But just as Josè's fist was about to land, the sharp shimmer of a blade intercepted it.
Clang!
The Japanese swordswoman had appeared like a ghost, parrying his blow with her crimson katana.
Huang Qi didn't even flinch. He raised his left palm with minimal effort and caught Ethan's punch mid-air—his small hand absorbing the entire momentum with chilling ease.
Even surrounded, he remained the strongest.
And he knew it.
Meanwhile, Lucian and Lucas took the chance. While the others were locked in confrontation, they turned their attention to the remaining participants scattered across the battlefield—most weakened, some unconscious.
Blue lightning sparked from Lucian's hands. Purple energy cracked from Lucas's limbs. The two moved like twin storms, darting between enemies, eliminating one target after another with terrifying efficiency.
Each takedown earned them points.
And their stamina? Still nearly full.
Huang Qi noticed.
Without turning, he spoke with quiet command to the swordswoman beside him. "Go. Stop those two. I'll handle these."
She nodded once. Then vanished from her place.
Lucas felt her presence first—a sudden gust of air—and twisted back just in time to catch her katana with a surge of purple current.
Lucian spun as well, his eyes narrowing as he recognized her. Without a word, he joined Lucas.
Now it was two-on-one.
The battlefield trembled with sparks and steel.
But even as the two unleashed their fury, the swordswoman matched them, strike for strike, movement for movement—blocking their combined flurry with inhuman speed and unwavering grace.
Ethan gritted his teeth and charged once again, his right fist glowing with Will-infused energy as it surged toward Huang Qi's face. But Huang, as calm as ever, raised his palm and caught the punch mid-air like it was nothing. His gaze didn't even shift. He'd already sensed the next move.
Josè came low, aiming a sweeping kick toward Huang's legs. But Huang anticipated it. With a subtle jump, he dodged the attack and, still mid-air, twisted his body and landed a sharp kick to Ethan's face. Ethan staggered backward, collapsing onto the ground, his vision swimming.
Josè didn't back down. He lunged forward with a punch, but Huang intercepted it with his left palm again, not even flinching. Then, with swift precision, Huang's fingers tapped along Josè's pressure points — three strikes in rapid succession. Josè gasped and crumpled to the ground, paralyzed by the pain.
Huang hadn't even broken a sweat.
Meanwhile, chaos reigned nearby.
The Japanese swordswoman stood her ground against both Lucian and Lucas, her blade dancing between offense and defense. Her movements were fluid, honed through years of discipline. She blocked every strike with pinpoint accuracy, deflecting attacks that would've overwhelmed most solo fighters. Had it been just Lucian or just Lucas, she would've dismantled them easily — but the two boys together, backed by surging stamina and unrelenting aggression, forced her into a defensive stance.
Still, the tide wasn't one-sided.
In the heat of combat, she launched a deadly strike aimed at Lucian. He dodged — barely — but a lock of his hair was sliced clean off. The near-death moment triggered something in him. With a shout, he charged, his palm sparking with blue lightning. He thrust it forward, landing a direct hit to her chest.
But instead of a devastating blast, the strike dissipated… absorbed harmlessly into the soft curve of her chest.
Both froze.
Lucian's face turned crimson.
So did hers.
"HENTAAAIII!!!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the clearing.
Lucian recoiled, yanking his hand back as if burned, stumbling a few steps in panic. Her chest bounced slightly from the impact, and his heart nearly jumped out of his ribcage.
"I-I didn't mean to—" he stammered.
Too late.
With a furious growl, she swung her katana at him. He ducked the blade, but the handle caught him clean on the head.
"Ouch! I said I'm sorry!"
Before she could strike again, Lucas dashed in from the side, his leg crackling with purple electric energy. He spun, landing a kick to her cheek. The shockwave hit her, making her grunt — but it wasn't enough to down her. Lucas's mastery over his Wrath was still developing.
But the battle was far from over.
Lucian's lightning palm strike had burned a part of her outfit, especially near her chest. The cloth had scorched away, revealing bandages tightly wrapped around her chest. She wasn't wearing a bra—just layers of worn bandage that still clung firmly to her curves, outlining them more than concealing.
Lucas, whose mind was far more mature than his eight-year-old body suggested, was barely managing to keep his eyes off her exposed figure. Lucian and the swordswoman, both with flushed faces, stood frozen in mutual embarrassment, while the girl covered her face where Lucas's electrified kick had landed.
She growled, "Omae-tachi futari… kore no tsumi wo harau koto ni naru."
Neither Lucian nor Lucas understood a word, but the tone made it clear—You two will pay for this.
Lucian's eyes were still on her chest when she suddenly lunged forward, slashing vertically with her katana. The shimmer of steel snapped Lucian out of it, and he lightning-dashed to the side just in time. Lucas tried to follow up with another electric strike, but she blocked each hit gracefully with her blade.
Lucian rejoined the fight from behind, but she sidestepped with precision, keeping both boys in her sight. Then, with a swift breath and blazing intent, she charged them.
And just like that, the three of them plunged into a fierce, fast-paced clash—blade versus lightning and electricity.
Each clash echoed with raw impact—lightning met steel in rapid succession. But for Lucian, there was a bigger distraction. With every strike the swordswoman blocked or launched, her boobs would subtly bounce from the force. The tight bandages emphasized the motion, and Lucian's eyes, against his will, kept drifting. Damn it… focus! he cursed internally, shaking his head and trying to realign his attention.
But the rhythm of battle made it worse—strike, bounce, block, bounce.
The swordswoman didn't seem to notice, her expression sharpened and focused, her blade moving like a storm-dancer in full form. Lucian gritted his teeth, struggling between discipline and instinct.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, Ethan's body began to radiate a pressure unlike before. Will energy surrounded him as he activated the highest state he could currently handle. His presence alone shifted the air—and for the first time, he was matching Huang Qi blow for blow.
Ethan's body blurred, muscles taut, fists clenched—his Will surged through every vein, reinforcing his frame like tempered steel. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he launched himself at Huang Qi with a speed few could follow. His punch roared forward, a hammer backed by unyielding willpower.
Huang Qi met it—not with fear, not with hesitation, but with precision.
Their fists collided. A shockwave burst outward, blowing dust and debris into the air. The sheer force sent cracks spiderwebbing through the earth. Ethan followed up instantly, not giving Huang Qi room to breathe—kicks, elbows, palms, every movement optimized and sharp, backed by relentless fury.
Huang Qi moved like water, flowing through Ethan's attacks, blocking, redirecting, and countering. His movements were smaller, tighter, conserving energy, yet each one radiated devastating efficiency. His palm struck Ethan's ribs—brutal. But Ethan didn't falter. Blood in his mouth, fire in his eyes, he retaliated with a spinning knee aimed for Huang's temple.
Huang ducked, grabbed Ethan mid-motion, and hurled him upward with a jolt. Ethan twisted midair, forced his momentum into a downward punch that whistled like thunder. Huang caught it.
Another burst—wind exploded from between their hands. They gritted without words, muscles shaking under pressure, neither yielding.
Ethan broke the clash with a sudden headbutt, stunning Huang briefly. In that instant, he spun, his heel slicing through the air toward Huang's neck. Huang leaned back just enough—hair strands sliced clean off. He responded with a rising palm strike to Ethan's sternum, lifting him off the ground again.
Ethan flipped midair, landed, and pushed forward like a bullet.
The ground beneath their feet was wrecked—dirt flying, stones shattering, tree roots exposed. They exchanged dozens of blows in seconds, fists and legs a blur. Blood splattered. Bodies bruised. Yet neither stopped.
Ethan's Will crackled at its limit—his body screaming, his lungs burning—but he kept pushing.
Huang Qi, calm and composed, had taken hits, but never lost his footing. He was still faster. Still stronger.
But Ethan was catching up.
With every strike, he was clawing closer—one step at a time.
The battle was no longer just physical. It was a war of dominance.
Ten minutes into the fierce battles, the sky darkened further—black clouds thickened, and then once again, the crimson screen flared across the heavens. The glow painted every shadow, every face, with an ominous red hue. The chilling robotic voice returned, cutting through the air like a knife.
"Attention, all participants. Only five minutes remaining."
A wave of disbelief swept through the battlefield.
Most had assumed there was more time. Perhaps ten, fifteen minutes. But now, they were down to their final five. And for the average participants, it wasn't about scoring anymore—it was about surviving.
The top contenders—Huang Qi, Ethan, the Japanese swordswoman, Lucian, and Lucas—all paused. Their breathing was heavy, bodies bruised, but their minds sharpened instantly. This wasn't a time to waste energy in ego clashes. This was the final stretch.
Josè still lay unconscious on the ground, motionless.
Without a word, the elite five split in different directions, vanishing like phantoms. The remaining contestants scattered in panic as they sensed what was coming.
No mercy. No hesitation.
Now, the hunt had begun.
The battlefield erupted into chaos. Explosions, flashes of lightning, streaks of energy tore across the land. Participants who were once fighting each other turned tail, attempting to flee. The air was filled with screams, shockwaves, and the thundering sound of pursuit. All of them were killing those weak participants for points, for their future.
Each moved like a force of nature.
Lucas tore through teams with his electrified kicks and electro balls, surging through enemies like a tempest.
Lucian's lightning palms and calculated strikes made him a ghost, appearing and disappearing before anyone could counter.
The Japanese swordswoman moved with lethal grace, her blade dancing through defenses before they could react.
Ethan rampaged with raw strength, his Will peaking as he crushed anyone in his path.
And Huang Qi—he moved silently, swiftly, and mercilessly. Like death itself.
Meanwhile, all across the world, millions watched the crimson screens from their homes, their eyes wide, breath caught in their throats. Goosebumps prickled their skin. The end had come. And now, they would finally see who would rule the leaderboard.
Back on the ground, Josè's eyes snapped open. His vision was blurred, his body sore—but the moment he understood the situation, he forced himself up. The air was heavy, the tension overwhelming.
But his instincts roared.
He launched himself into the fray, no longer a bystander.
The predators were loose.
And the preys were running out.
And just like that… the final five minutes passed.
Screams echoed across the battlefield, a chorus of desperation and chaos. The ground was soaked in blood, marked by shattered terrain and fading footprints. Yet, not a single corpse remained. Every eliminated participant had vanished the moment they were defeated, reappearing in the real world—alive and physically unscathed, though mentally shaken.
Lucian, Lucas, Ethan, Josè, the mysterious swordswoman, and the one who reigned above them all—Huang Qi—had carved their names into the final moments. Like reapers, they moved with terrifying speed, striking down participants one after another in a blur of overwhelming power.
Then, suddenly… the sky went still.
The crimson screen lit up again—brighter than ever before, dominating the dark heavens like a divine decree. But this time, something was different.
A swirling portal opened beside it. From its core, emerged that same peculiar housefly that had appeared in the real world when the quest had begun. A strange, almost comical creature—but now, no one dared to laugh.
Time itself seemed to freeze.
Those mid-air floated down gently to the ground. Those mid-strike paused mid-motion. All eyes were on the insect, whose body emitted a faint red glow. And then, it spoke—its voice was the same cold, metallic tone that had echoed from the crimson screen since the beginning.
"The Quest has officially ended. All those who are still alive have successfully passed this round. However—those who have not accumulated the minimum requirement of 50 points shall be disqualified, reverted to ordinary status… and will lose one-fourth of their remaining life."
Silence gripped the land.
"I offer congratulations to those who endured till the end. Now, it's time to reveal the final leaderboard."
As the words echoed, the crimson screen shimmered, and then expanded. Dozens of smaller screens unfolded from its sides—each showing rankings.
But it was the center screen that captured every heart and every eye.
The top 3…