Pretending to be a noob in a world scaled by power level

[121] Semi finals

With the wind rushing against my face, I maneuvered the sword effortlessly above the sprawling expanse of the arena. From up here, the crowd was a sea of colors, undulating like waves as they roared in anticipation of the upcoming match. The sandy pit, my destination, lay in the heart of this vibrant expanse.

As I approached, I straightened my stance on the sword, taking one final glance at the view from the skies. Then, I propelled myself upwards in a graceful arc, my body silhouetted against the brilliant sky. The sword, having served its purpose, ceased its hovering motion and dropped towards the ground, obediently following my will.

The crowd gasped as I hung in the air for a moment, like a bird frozen in mid-flight. Then, with gravity reclaiming its hold, I plummeted towards the arena, a streamlined form descending like a meteor.

The air whooshed past me, whipping my hair and clothes. The anticipation and excitement from the crowd became a deafening roar, a testament to the spectacle unfolding. Just as I was about to impact the ground, I twisted my body and executed a perfect roll, dispersing the force of the fall. Sand flew up around me, creating a small cloud, but when it cleared, I stood upright, at the center of the arena, my sword in hand.

The crowd's roaring reached a fever pitch at the daring entrance, turning the arena into a cacophony of cheers and applause. I had arrived, not as an unknown adventurer this time, but as Wang-Yi-Fei, the legendary sword master.

As the crowd's deafening cheers gradually subsided, the host stepped forward, a microphone clasped in his hands. His excited eyes surveyed the crowd before he let out a booming voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the host boomed, his voice carrying through the massive coliseum, "before us today stands the strongest human in our world, an adventurer of L-tier, a man who requires no introduction... Wang-Yi-Fei!"

The cheers that erupted from the crowd were deafening, a cascade of admiration that rolled through the coliseum as my name echoed from every corner.

Once the noise had receded to a dull roar, the host's attention turned to my opponent. "And facing him, standing tall from the regal bloodline of the Kazadu kingdom, the Eldest Prince, the Lion Beastkin... Kadar!"

Kadar was an impressive sight to behold. Towering at an intimidating height of 10 feet, he seemed to fill the arena with his massive presence. His body, covered in a golden-brown fur, rippled with muscle, each movement showcasing his immense strength. His mane, a dark and wild tempest of hair, cascaded around his head and broad shoulders, giving him an even more majestic and imposing appearance.

He was clad in gladiatorial-style armor, a dazzling spectacle of golden plates and intricate designs that denoted his royal status. His eyes, a brilliant shade of yellow-gold, sparkled with a formidable determination. Clutched in his large, powerful hand was a colossal double-edged battle axe, its edges shimmering with a lethal shine.

Despite the deafening roars of the crowd, Kadar's demeanor was calm and focused, his gaze unyielding. This was a warrior who had been shaped and honed by countless battles, a formidable adversary who commanded the respect of all who looked upon him.

Kadar's deep, rumbling voice echoed in the tense silence that followed the horn. "When I was but a cub," he began, his yellow eyes gleaming with a certain nostalgia, "my mother would tell me tales of the great human warrior, Wang-Yi-Fei. The undefeated champion, the paragon of human strength and valor."

His large hand gripping his colossal axe tightened, the muscles in his massive arm tensing. "And now," he continued, his voice a roar that filled the arena, "I stand before that very legend. A privilege, indeed."

He grinned, revealing a row of sharp, gleaming teeth. His golden eyes locked onto mine with a formidable determination. "I hope, for both our sakes, that you live up to those tales, Wang-Yi-Fei."

The crowd erupted once more, a deafening roar of anticipation and excitement. I stood, my grip on my own weapon tightening, ready to face the challenge before me.

With a sharp glint in my eyes, I responded, the tip of my sword indicating him. "In that case," I said, my voice steady and sure as it rang out across the arena, "why don't you see for yourself, Prince Kadar?"

A murmur ran through the crowd, anticipation in the air so palpable I could nearly touch it. Kadar's grin broadened at my words, his respect for me evident in his gleaming eyes.

"My pleasure," he rumbled, his large hand reaching out to grasp the claw-like brass knuckles that were his chosen weapon. He fitted them onto his hands, the metal glinting ominously in the afternoon sun. His gaze never strayed from mine as he flexed his fingers, the steel claws catching the light.

The crowd fell silent in the face of our impending battle, all eyes on us. I held my sword steady, ready for the clash that was sure to come.

Q: Would you always take your opponent seriously?