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

[124] The finals

The next week...

The morning light spilled through the window as I prepared to leave for the final match. The streets were already teeming with a sea of spectators, reporters, and fans all eager to witness the much-anticipated event. Attempting to maneuver through this crowd seemed a futile endeavor.

I approached the window and pulled out my sword. Holding it horizontally in front of me, I closed my eyes and focused, channeling my inner energy into the blade. The air around the room seemed to hum with an unseen force as the sword began to levitate, its metallic surface shimmering with an ethereal light.

With a swift motion, I stepped onto the blade, balancing myself with an ease born from years of practice. Taking one last look at the girls, I flashed them a grin. "I'll see you at the arena," I said, the lightness of my tone belying the gravity of the forthcoming match.

And with that, I propelled myself through the open window, soaring over the cityscape. The wind rushed past me as I guided my makeshift vehicle through the air, the crowd below turning into a colorful blur. I navigated above the clustered rooftops, heading straight towards the looming structure of the arena, ready to meet my destiny head-on.

As I neared the grand structure of the arena, my heart pounded with a fierce rhythm. With a fluid motion, I leaned down and gripped the hilt of my airborne sword. Sensing my intent, the sword halted its forward momentum, hovering momentarily as I prepared myself.

Suddenly, I pushed off the sword, the strength of my leap causing the blade to drop back to my hand. Like a falcon diving towards its prey, I plunged towards the center of the arena. Wind roared past me, as the faces in the crowd blurred into a myriad of colors.

I twisted my body mid-air, realigning myself with the ground. An instant later, I landed lightly in the center of the sandpit, my knees bending slightly to absorb the impact. A small cloud of dust puffed up around my boots, before quickly settling.

The arena fell into an awestruck silence as I straightened up, sliding my sword back into its sheath with a soft, metallic whisper. Despite the countless pairs of eyes fixated on me, I maintained an outward calm, my face set in a stoic mask. The final duel was about to begin.

Just as the dust from my landing settled, a soft glow began to form at the edge of the arena. It grew brighter, coalescing into a solid, square platform of radiant energy. The crowd murmured as a figure appeared atop the glowing dais.

The figure descended steadily, standing with an air of unruffled grace atop the luminous platform. As he touched down lightly onto the sandy ground of the arena, the platform vanished as if it had never been, leaving behind only the man.

He was young, seemingly no more than in his mid-twenties, with an almost ethereal quality to his appearance. His hair was a startling white, its long, silken strands cascading down to his shoulders like a waterfall of moonlight. It contrasted starkly with the deep sapphire of his eyes, eyes that held an ageless wisdom and tranquility within their depths.

Clad in a white tuxedo of impeccable tailoring, he carried himself with an aristocratic elegance. The tuxedo, made from fabric that gleamed with an opalescent sheen under the arena lights, hugged his lean and muscled form perfectly. It was luxurious, yet devoid of unnecessary adornments, a perfect representation of the man himself.

He wore a slight, enigmatic smile on his handsome face, his sculpted features and sharp jawline chiseled to perfection. His clear, pale skin seemed almost luminous, glowing softly under the bright lights of the arena.

The sight of him sent a ripple of excited whispers through the audience. This man, so young yet so formidable, was not just my opponent, but an enigma that had everyone's rapt attention.

As the host introduced Asus, there was a curious blend of reactions from the crowd. Most of the female audience, and a few men, erupted in ecstatic applause, screams, and cheers. Their adoration for Asus was palpable in the air, enamored by his captivating beauty and ethereal allure.

However, there were many in the crowd whose reaction was not as welcoming. Whispers of uncertainty and wariness coursed through the audience, some expressing silent prayers, their faces etched with concern and unease. Asus was, after all, a demon. Even with his stunning appearance, the knowledge of his demonic origin cast a controversial shadow over his presence.

The host took a step back, taking in the mixed reactions. He raised his hand, a signal of commencement. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he announced, his voice a ripple over the sea of noises, "despite the controversy, we stand on neutral ground. Here in the arena, strength is all that matters. Let the finals...begin!"

Q: Do you get nervous in tournament matches?