IDKjust
patreon
Chapter 824
🕑 Added 2025-10-01 22:56:41 +0000 UTCChapter 824
“Chris came by just now.”
“Chris? Which Chris?”
Alex responded without thinking, then paused, realizing what was meant. “That Chris?”
Ron nodded. “That’s right.”
“What did he come for?”
“To work with me. And with you.”
“What do you mean?”
Confusion flashed in Alex’s eyes.
“Chris told me the Grand Trail is actually a conspiracy—Rosgell’s conspiracy. All of you are just sacrifices, meant to bring about Rosgell’s resurrection. Once the Grand Trail ends, every participant will die.”
“The only way to survive is to seize the one chance during the final battle.”
Alex froze.
“Is that true?”
“I don’t know,” Ron said, shaking his head. “That’s just what Chris said. Whether it’s true or not, whether you believe him or not, Alex, only you can decide.”
Alex scratched his head, then looked at Ron seriously. “Do you believe it?”
Ron raised an eyebrow. “Do you trust my judgment?”
“I do. I think you’re a good person. And you’re strong,” Alex said, nodding.
Ron smiled faintly. “Then no, I don’t believe it.”
“Then I won’t either.”
“Good. Focus on the upcoming battles. There aren’t many left before the final round of the Grand Tournament.”
.....................
.........
.
The second bracket matches began—A-rank Nen users clashing.
Alex and his teammates had learned a great deal from Ron’s manga. Their fighting style was increasingly reminiscent of One Piece.
Their opponents were led by a man named Raiki, whose abilities bore some similarity to Machi’s—Nen threads used in combat.
While Alex’s side fought fiercely, battles were raging elsewhere as well.
Ron watched through a crystal sphere. Around him, countless specks of starlight converged toward the sphere.
“Progress: sixty percent. After this round, it should pass seventy. Almost there.”
His attention returned to the battlefield.
“Gum-Gum Gatling!”
Alex’s arms whipped through the air at breakneck speed. Though the movements seemed chaotic, the sheer velocity left afterimages in the air—making it appear as if dozens of fists were striking at once. The spectacle was overwhelming.
Even Raiki struggled to block them all.
His expression darkened. “Birdcage!”
A flurry of Nen threads shot from Raiki’s hands, forming a massive cage around Alex and trapping him inside.
Alex’s fists struck the threads repeatedly, but the cage held firm. Worse, the impact damaged his fists.
Raiki’s expression relaxed slightly.
But at that moment—
“Gum-Gum Elephant Gun!”
Alex’s aura shifted. Even the color of his fists changed.
Boom!
A thunderous impact shattered the birdcage. Alex’s punch exploded through, and his assault resumed.
“Gum-Gum Giant Bazooka!”
“Shield: White Thread!”
“Gum-Gum King Kong Gun!”
“Wild Surge: White Thread!”
…
Elsewhere—
“Three Thousand Worlds!”
“Devil’s Leg!”
“Special Attack: Green Star!”
…
Once the matches of the second bracket concluded, all participating teams had successfully advanced into the first bracket. Eight squads now stood at the top, and according to the structure of the Grand Trial, the final stage would take place at the sacred grounds of Minpo, where the final confrontation would be held.
By the time Alex’s match against Raiki had ended, Ron had already disappeared from the arena.
He had left without speaking to anyone, entering a sealed section deep beneath the central platform of the Trial grounds. The area was cut off from all known access points, shielded in such a way that no aura could pass through and no external observation could penetrate it.
Before him stood a wall reinforced with thick alloy and stone. Its surface bore no visible markings, and no conventional means could open it.
“Wither,” Ron said.
She appeared beside him. Her body fully exited Sumas, Pink hair framed her face, and her vertical pupils gave off a faint glow as she raised one hand toward the wall.
“First Bomb.”
There was no sound. The impact left no cracks, no scattered debris. A circular section of the wall simply vanished, the material erased from within by the silent detonation. A perfectly formed passage was left behind.
Wither stepped back.
Ron entered without pause. The corridor beyond was narrow, carved from stone, and faintly infused with lingering traces of aura from deep within the arena’s foundation. Only the sound of his footsteps echoed in the passage as he moved forward, Wither following quietly behind.
A sharp slicing sound tore through the air as something fast and metallic shot toward Ron from the darkness.
Cell meterilized and stepped forward to intercept it. The spinning blade struck his torso directly, but failed to pierce through. Instead, the impact was absorbed by his hardened body, and the weapon rebounded, clattering against the stone wall before falling silent.
Moments later, two red lights emerged from the far end of the corridor.
A hostile creature was approaching, flying low and fast toward Ron’s position. Its aura was unstable and violent, suggesting a corrupted or unstable form.
As it drew closer, Cell’s tail shot outward in a single, fluid motion.
Squelch!
The strike pierced clean through the creature’s chest. The momentum died instantly, and its body went limp.
Without pause, Cell opened his jaws and swallowed it whole.
At the end of the corridor stood a thick iron gate, tall and heavy, with no visible handle or mechanism.
Cell walked toward it, lifted both arms, and pressed his hands flat against the metal surface.
Clang.
His fingers sank into the iron. With a single motion, he tore the door apart, ripping the reinforced metal down the center. The halves groaned as they bent and gave way.
Beyond the broken gate lay a wide chamber.
A stone altar stood at its center, constructed from ancient slabs covered in aged carvings. Strange, spiraling patterns were etched deep into the surface, and from somewhere unseen, a low, humming sound echoed softly. The noise was steady, like a pulse—too regular to be natural, yet too organic to be mechanical.
Ron stepped inside and examined the surroundings.
“Divine markings. Divine characters. Divine sound,” he said quietly, scanning the edges of the altar with focused eyes. “Death-type Nen. This space holds everything—every known spiritual residue left behind by Nen manipulation.”
“Gyo.”
Activating the ability, he focused his aura into his eyes and surveyed the walls more carefully. After a few minutes, he located eight small mechanisms embedded into the surrounding stone. Each one was hidden beneath a layer of aged carvings and required precise aura application to reveal.
With Chii's help, he triggered all eight in sequence.
When the final mechanism was pressed, a figure began to form atop the altar.
Its body was humanoid, but the aura it radiated was not. Oppressive waves of Nen spilled from its frame as its form solidified.
Ron stepped back slightly.
“S-rank. Much stronger than Chris.”
He raised his hand.
“Observation Platform.”
The moment the ability activated, the surrounding aura shifted. Cell and Wither appeared beside him—both physically present, and both prepared for combat.
The figure on the altar began to move.
Ron gave no command for analysis. The situation was already clear.
“Go.”
Wither and Cell charged forward at once.
The battle began without hesitation.
Under normal conditions, the opponent’s sheer presence would have been overwhelming, but Ron’s advantage was absolute. Cell and Wither, both materialized and fully autonomous, could not be killed as long as he had Aura, and no ability could bypass the Observation Platform’s current configuration.
Ron didn’t move. He didn’t need to.
The opponent launched a barrage of techniques, each one precise and packed with lethal force, but none of them reached Ron.
Wither adjusted her position and released a silent explosion, disabling one of the figure’s limbs. Cell followed with a crushing blow that shattered its defense. Even when the entity adapted, it couldn’t shift momentum.
Time passed—measured only by aura fluctuations and the crumbling of stone beneath their feet.
Eventually, the result became inevitable.
The figure staggered, then froze completely.
Its limbs collapsed inward, and cracks began spreading across its body. The aura surrounding it faded. A second later, the form disintegrated entirely, turning to pale dust that scattered across the altar and disappeared.
Ron stood in silence as the last remnants vanished.
At that moment, a new door appeared at the altar’s center.
A staircase led downward.
Ron descended.
…One step. Two. Three.
Not hundreds. Not thousands.
Tens of thousands.
Only after descending more than ten thousand steps did the stairs finally end.
A subterranean lake spread out before Ron.
The lake water radiated dense Nen energy—as if aura itself had condensed into liquid form. But the energy was chaotic and impure.
A faint apparition noticed Ron’s arrival and slowly appeared.
“Who are you?”
“Ron. A visitor. It’s a pleasure to meet you… Rosgell.”
Comments
hector lyng
TFTC
