MTLNOVEL Chapter 27: Bonus Trial
Oliver sat back in the waiting room, his mind replaying Lina's fight in vivid detail.
The way she manipulated the mist, the precision of her attacks, the absolute control over the battlefield—it was nothing short of brilliant.
She had grown so much since their days at the orphanage. Back then, she was the soft-spoken girl with a stubborn streak.
Now, she was a warrior, dismantling enemies with both her mind and her blades.
He couldn't help but smile, pride swelling in his chest—though there was a flicker of competitiveness as well.
The door creaked open, and the familiar female worker stepped in. "Oliver Dante, your match is up next," she announced.
Tariq grinned, slapping Oliver's shoulder. "Go show them who's boss."
Dante leaned back in his seat, flashing his trademark cocky smile. "And remember, if you ever get stuck, just ask yourself—what would Dante do? Then, do it with twice the flair and half the brain cells!"
Oliver shook his head, suppressing a laugh. "Thanks for the... advice."
Aiko said nothing but gave him a small nod—subtle, yet full of quiet confidence. Oliver returned the gesture before following the worker out.
The hallway was dimly lit, the distant roar of the crowd growing louder with every step.
Oliver's thoughts drifted back to his teammates. Each had showcased something extraordinary—Dante's confidence, Aiko's decisiveness, Tariq's overwhelming force and Lina's surgical precision. They were all exceptional in their own right.
But if it were him in their shoes, would it have even taken that long?
He had an edge none of them did—a way to gather Meta Essence both from Trials and hunting monsters directly.
In this entire competition, perhaps even beyond, no one could match his growth. It wasn't arrogance. It was fact. And yet, that very thought made him pause.
Overconfidence was the fastest path to defeat. Even Dante, for all his bravado, never stepped into a fight unprepared.
That was the lesson hidden beneath his clownish act—confidence was a weapon, but only when sharpened with preparation.
The hallway ended. Before him stood the heavy arena doors. Taking a deep breath, Oliver pressed his hand against the cool metal and pushed them open.
Blinding light. Deafening cheers. The scent of sand and steel.
It was his turn.
The moment Oliver stepped into the arena, the Crucible erupted like a storm.
The stands were packed, spectators on their feet, chanting, roaring.
In just two days, Dante's Divine Vanguard had become the heart and soul of the tournament—not just for their overwhelming power, but for the spectacle they brought with every fight.
They weren't just warriors. They were entertainers, fueling the bloodlust and excitement of the masses.
Oliver's gaze locked onto his opponent. The man stood perfectly still, clad in a flowing black kimono adorned with faint crimson patterns—almost like dried blood.
At his side rested a single katana, the sheath plain, but the aura around it anything but.
Even at this distance, Oliver felt the pressure radiating from him—a presence sharpened by countless battles.
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena, laced with theatrical flair.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you our next contender, Oliver Lancaster of Dante's divine vanguard!!"
"The Crucible has been blessed these past two days by none other than Dante's Divine Vanguard! They've given you blood, skill, and drama—and I have no doubt that the next warrior stepping into the ring will deliver the same!"
The crowd roared in anticipation.
"But standing in his path," the announcer continued, voice darkening, "is a man whose name is feared far beyond these walls. If Valcran was the mind behind the Iron Chain Marauders, then this man was their sword—sharp, merciless, and drenched in blood! And now, with his comrades fallen, he stands alone—the last blade left to avenge them!"
Boos echoed through the arena at the mention of the Marauders, but tension thickened the air.
"Introducing Shigen the Crimson Fang, once a sworn bodyguard to the noble House Arvendale! Entrusted to protect their lives with his very soul. But for the right price, loyalty turned to betrayal! In a single night, he slaughtered the noble, his wife, their children, even the servants who begged for mercy—all for gold! When justice caught up with him, he was dragged to this Crucible, where death is the only escape."
The crowd hissed and cursed, but Shigen remained unmoved, his gaze locked onto Oliver.
His eyes were cold, devoid of remorse—the eyes of a man who had long since made peace with his sins.
The announcer raised his hand.
"Let the match... BEGIN!"
The words barely left his lips before Oliver felt it—an oppressive wave of killing intent washing over the arena like a dark tide. Yet, in the face of it, Oliver only smiled.
But at that moment Shigen's calm voice cut through the noise.
"To make this less painful, it would be better if you ended your own life now. If I do it for you, it will feel like dying a thousand deaths."
Oliver stopped in his tracks, staring at the swordsman like he'd just grown a second head.
Was this guy serious? How weak did he think He was to say something so ridiculous?
He shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.
At least my control over my aura's gotten better, he mused.
If this idiot thinks I'm some helpless lamb, then I must be suppressing my power perfectly.
Then, a faint chime echoed in his mind—a system notification, cutting through the roar of the arena.
Without breaking eye contact with Shigen, Oliver mentally opened the interface.
[System Notification]
Bonus Trial Found
Trial Name: Crimson Blade Execution
Location: The Crimson Crucible
Rank: 2
Monsters: None
Trial Parameters:
Duration: 15 seconds
Objective: Defeat Shigen within the time limit.
Failure Conditions: Death / Inability to defeat Shigen within 15 seconds.
Penalty: Release of monsters into the Main World.
Reward: Meta Essence.
Oliver's eyes flickered with excitement. No hesitation. 15 seconds was more than enough.
The grin on his face stretched wider—though to Shigen, it must have looked like the foolish smile of a man stepping into his own grave.
Without a word, Oliver shot forward, blurring into motion.
The clock was ticking.