Tier 2 Late Stage!
A collective gasp swept through the virtual arena.
For a brief moment, it felt as though time itself had frozen.
Every spectator stared at the figure standing proudly in the center of the arena, their minds struggling to process what they had just witnessed. Some widened their eyes in disbelief, while others instinctively sucked in a sharp breath.
It wasn't as though reaching Tier 2 Late Stage was some earth-shattering achievement by itself.
In a world filled with powerful human and warriors, there were many individuals who had reached that level and beyond.
But the issue was never the realm itself.
The issue was the person who had reached it.
Gameliel was only eighteen years old.
Eighteen.
Yet he had already stepped into Tier 2 Late Stage.
The significance of that fact alone sent shockwaves through everyone present.
At his current pace, it was entirely possible for him to reach Tier 3 within six months.
One year at the absolute latest.
A Tier 3 warrior at the age of nineteen.
Just thinking about it made people feel suffocated.
Even with unlimited resources, such a feat was beyond the reach of most individuals.
Talent was important.
Resources were important.
Effort was important.
But even when all three were present, there was no guarantee of success.
Apart from extraordinary monsters like Princess Layla, the average age for entering Tier 3 was around twenty-four years old.
Most warriors only reached that milestone at twenty-seven.
Some even struggled until thirty.
Yet standing before them was a young man who might achieve it before he even turned twenty.
If such a person wasn't considered a genius, then what were they?
The answer was obvious.
Everyone else would simply be mediocre.
The realization struck many spectators harder than the outcome of the duel itself.
Their achievements suddenly felt insignificant.
Their pride suddenly felt laughable.
Their confidence suddenly seemed fragile.
Among the crowd, Lily and the members of her group were trembling.
Not from fear.
From shock.
Their expressions had completely stiffened.
Throughout the entire duel, they had firmly believed Zarrell would emerge victorious.
They had been certain.
Confident.
Unwavering.
Yet reality had mercilessly slapped them across the face.
Gameliel had not been struggling.
He had not been pushed into a corner.
He had not been desperately fighting for survival.
He had simply been playing with Zarrell.
From beginning to end.
The realization made their faces burn with humiliation.
Meanwhile, Gameliel stood calmly with his sword in hand.
His expression remained indifferent as his gaze settled on Zarrell.
"What?" he asked calmly.
"Do you think that just because you've advanced to Tier 2, you can start living like a king?"
His voice wasn't loud.
Yet every word echoed clearly throughout the arena.
"You indulge yourself in all sorts of activities and act as though the world revolves around you."
He shook his head.
There was disappointment in his eyes.
Disappointment mixed with pity.
"Someone like you and me cannot even be compared to Princess Layla."
His words struck like invisible hammers.
"Yet you turned yourself into a local tyrant."
The spectators remained silent.
No one interrupted.
No one dared.
"You believe you can do whatever you want because people call you one of the promising talents of the younger generation."
Gameliel's gaze sharpened.
"But if you continue down this path, you'll only doom yourself."
His voice grew colder.
"And in the end, you'll become nothing more than a bottom feeder."
The words pierced deeper than any sword.
For a brief moment, Zarrell's body stiffened.
His face twitched.
His fists clenched.
Yet he couldn't find a single word to refute him.
Because deep down...
He knew there was truth in those words.
The arena fell into silence.
As Gameliel looked at Zarrell, memories surfaced within his mind.
They had once been brothers.
Not by blood.
But by bond.
He, Zarrell, and Nicos had grown up together.
They had eaten together.
Trained together.
Played together.
Dreamed together.
The three of them had been inseparable.
Back then, they genuinely believed their friendship would last forever.
Then fate intervened.
The tragedy that befell Nicos changed everything.
The brotherhood that had once seemed unbreakable began to fracture.
Gameliel had tried to hold things together.
He remained friends with both Nicos and Zarrell.
He became the bridge connecting the two sides.
For a while, things appeared manageable.
Then came the discovery.
Both he and Zarrell awakened rare Spirit Roots.
Their status skyrocketed overnight.
People praised them.
Admired them.
Envied them.
Yet while Gameliel viewed it as a chance to improve himself...
Zarrell changed.
Slowly at first.
Then rapidly.
Arrogance took root.
Pride consumed him.
He began looking down on others.
Treating people as though they existed beneath him.
The final breaking point came when he took the girl Nicos loved.
A girl who had every reason to be with Nicos.
A girl who should have become Nicos' girlfriend.
Yet Zarrell stole her away simply because he could.
That incident shattered whatever remained of their brotherhood.
From that day onward, things were never the same.
Being able to reach Tier 2 at eighteen was indeed an incredible achievement.
But somewhere along the way, Zarrell had mistaken talent for superiority.
He had begun believing he stood above everyone else.
That was his greatest mistake.
Gameliel looked at him quietly.
His eyes reflected neither hatred nor anger.
Only disappointment.
"You keep comparing yourself to people beneath you."
His voice remained calm.
"But have you ever looked upward?"
Zarrell's body trembled slightly.
"There are countless people above you."
Gameliel raised his sword.
The blade gleamed beneath the artificial lights of the virtual arena.
"Consider this the final favor I'll ever do for you."
His voice softened.
"And the final lesson I'll teach you as a former brother."
The words struck harder than any attack.
For the first time since the duel began, Zarrell's confidence completely collapsed.
His mind became blank.
The arena disappeared.
The spectators vanished.
Only Gameliel's words remained.
They echoed endlessly inside his head.
Like the tolling of a chapel bell.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The sound refused to leave him.
By the time he realized what was happening, Gameliel's sword was already descending.
Yet he didn't move.
Didn't dodge.
Didn't block.
Didn't resist.
He simply stood there.
Frozen.
Defeated long before the blade reached him.
A faint smile suddenly appeared on Gameliel's face.
"Oh."
He paused.
"I've also been working on my trash-talking skills."
The smile widened slightly.
"Looks like I've improved quite a bit in that area too."
The spectators blinked.
For a moment, they didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
The next second—
The duel ended.
A flash of light enveloped the arena.
The system declared the victor.
Gameliel.
The outcome everyone had just witnessed became official.
Yet strangely enough, nobody moved.
Normally, once a duel concluded, spectators would immediately log out.
This time, however, everyone remained rooted in place.
The shock was simply too great.
Their minds struggled to catch up.
The battle had ended.
But the emotions it created continued to ripple through them.
Eventually, one person logged out.
Then another.
Then another.
Soon, the arena gradually emptied.
The expressions on their faces were unusually solemn.
The duel had taught them something.
A painful lesson.
Many of them had been satisfied with their current accomplishments.
They had become comfortable.
Complacent.
Proud of achievements that seemed significant within their small circles.
Yet today's battle revealed a harsh reality.
While they celebrated minor victories...
Others were pushing forward relentlessly.
While they admired their own progress...
Others were already preparing for the next realm.
Compared to true geniuses, their accomplishments meant very little.
It was a humbling realization.
One that many would not forget.
Back in reality, the virtual capsules opened one after another.
Zarrell slowly emerged from his capsule.
The moment he stepped out, everyone noticed the change.
The confidence that usually filled his eyes was gone.
The pride.
The arrogance.
The fire.
All of it had vanished.
He looked half-dead.
Like someone who had suffered a devastating blow.
For a person with a massive ego, there was perhaps nothing more painful than being defeated by someone they considered beneath them.
Especially when that defeat was absolute.
Lily immediately rushed over.
"Zarrell..."
Her voice carried concern.
Others from the group followed.
Trying to comfort him.
Trying to encourage him.
Trying to tell him that it wasn't the end.
Yet their words seemed unable to reach him.
He stared blankly ahead.
As though his soul had remained inside the virtual arena.
As though part of him had been shattered.
Meanwhile, another capsule opened.
Gameliel stepped out.
The restaurant instantly became quieter.
Numerous gazes landed on him.
Some filled with admiration.
Others with awe.
A few with envy.
Yet Gameliel ignored them all.
His eyes shifted toward Zarrell.
For a brief moment, the two looked at each other.
Gameliel's expression remained calm.
Unchanging.
A perfect poker face.
Anyone glancing at him would assume he felt nothing.
But those who paid close attention could see it.
The faint sadness hidden deep within his eyes.
The lingering pity.
The pain.
Despite everything that had happened, a part of him still remembered the friendship they once shared.
The memories.
The laughter.
The dreams.
Those things couldn't disappear overnight.
No matter how much time passed.
No matter how badly things ended.
Lily noticed his gaze.
Immediately, her eyes turned cold.
Kant's expression darkened as well.
The two glared at him fiercely.
If looks could burn, Gameliel would have been reduced to ashes on the spot.
Yet he simply shrugged.
Their hostility meant nothing to him.
There was no point arguing.
No point explaining.
Some lessons could only be learned through experience.
And Zarrell had just learned one of the harshest lessons possible.
Without saying another word, Gameliel turned around and headed toward the restaurant exit.
His footsteps were steady.
Calm.
Unhurried.
Yet beneath that calm exterior, his thoughts were anything but peaceful.
He knew what awaited him.
News of the duel had undoubtedly spread already.
The consequences would soon follow.
Whether it was his family, acquaintances, or others connected to the situation, reactions were inevitable.
Still, he did not stop walking.
Whatever came next, he would face it.
Just as he always had.
The restaurant doors opened.
A cool breeze drifted in from outside.
Gameliel stepped forward and disappeared into the night, leaving behind a restaurant filled with complicated emotions, shattered pride, and people who would remember this day for a very long time.
Because from this moment onward, no one would ever look at Gameliel the same way again.