Conceited Brien

The entire forest was peaceful, a clear sign that the battles between the young Adventurers had yet to begin.

Finn strolled calmly through the vast forest, glancing idly from tree to tree as he felt out the subtle ripples of soulforce all around him. He walked with an almost carefree ease, whistling a low tune, a smile flickering at his lips every few steps.

Though he could sense the presence of several others scattered about, he had no intention of approaching them. There was no hurry.

He would set the pace of this competition himself.

For now, he simply needed to find a few of his companions. Once they reunited, he planned to help them as much as he could—a small gesture of repayment for the Cloud Soaring Sect's faith in him.

He owed them that much.

Somewhere in the distance, faint explosions finally began to echo through the trees.

Finn paid them no mind. He could tell none of his comrades were among those fighting.

--

Meanwhile…

In the sprawling city of the Floating Island, a boy clad in a green uniform raced down the stone streets, a sharp, eager grin plastered across his face.

He darted left and right, scanning alleys and rooftops as though searching for something—or someone.

Even when he encountered other participants, whether allies or enemies, he paid them no heed, brushing past them as if they were nothing more than ghosts.

None dared pursue him.

They knew better.

No one wanted to tangle with this arrogant young man if they valued their place in the competition.

"Finn Doria…" he muttered, voice low with anticipation. "I'm getting closer. The moment I find you, it'll be the end of your precious reputation."

Brien's eyes gleamed with a mixture of cold hunger and delight.

He had already scoured almost the entire city without finding so much as a footprint.

If Finn wasn't hiding here, then the forest would be the only place left to search.

He didn't care about the others.

He didn't care about their golden bracelets or the chance to earn more points for the Alchemist Association.

He cared about only one thing: revenge.

Revenge for the humiliation Finn had dealt him in the Auction House.

He was just about to cross the last street and enter the treeline when, without warning, a blazing, fist-shaped mass of fire erupted to his right and shot toward him.

The attack was fast—unnaturally so—and saturated with vicious energy.

Brien's smirk widened.

He sprang backward lightly, dodging the flaming blow by a hair's breadth.

The fire fist smashed into the ground he'd just vacated, detonating with a thunderous blast that left a smoking crater.

He hadn't even landed yet when another fiery strike hurtled toward his chest.

In a fluid motion, Brien crossed his arms, summoning a radiant glow that coated his limbs.

The impact rang out like a hammer against steel, but when the fire dissipated, his arms were utterly unscathed.

Across the street, the attacker pulled back, eyes narrowing warily.

Brien touched down with an amused snort and swept his gaze over the boy in the orange uniform.

He looked him over from head to toe and sneered.

"Still haven't learned your lesson, have you?" he drawled. "Even striking from behind…you'll never defeat me."

Elyas' lip curled with hatred.

"Don't be so smug!" he snapped, voice hoarse. "You only beat me before because I was unprepared. But this time, I'll make sure you regret every moment you've spent looking down on me!"

His whole body trembled.

"You disgraced me in front of my entire Burning Heaven Sect," he spat, fury boiling in every word. "No one has ever humiliated me the way you did! I'm the strongest core member of the Burning Heaven Sect—everyone looked up to me—"

Brien burst into laughter, loud and scornful.

He laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, then straightened and fixed Elyas with a look of pure contempt.

"You think you're some prodigy?" he sneered. "You're nothing but trash. An ordinary Adventurer in a kingdom overflowing with mediocrity."

His grin turned cold.

"But…I'm feeling generous."

He lifted a hand and gestured dismissively.

"Leave. Disappear from my sight, and I'll pretend you never existed."

Elyas' face went crimson.

"What right do you have to belittle me?!" he roared.

In an instant, searing flames burst from his skin, swirling into an inferno.

With a guttural shout, he hurled a barrage of blazing fists toward Brien.

One after another, they streaked across the street, detonating against the cobblestones.

The air thickened with smoke and heat.

But Brien only danced lightly aside, evading every attack as if it were child's play.

Elyas could barely see through the haze, but he kept firing, each strike louder and more desperate than the last.

He was beyond reason, swallowed by rage.

Even if he wasn't the strongest young Adventurer in the kingdom, no one—no one—had ever dared to mock him like this.

Which was why he didn't realize Brien was already closing the distance.

He only saw the smirk and the glint of an incoming fist a split second before it connected.

CRACK.

The sound of splintering bone was unmistakable.

Elyas' arms buckled under the blow.

A strangled cry tore from his throat as agony lanced up to his shoulders.

But Brien wasn't done.

He seized Elyas by the wrist, pivoted, and hurled him bodily into the massive tree behind them.

The impact shook the trunk.

Elyas slid to the ground, gasping raggedly.

His arms hung limp at his sides, numb and useless. He could barely lift a finger, much less draw a weapon.

Footsteps approached, slow and mocking.

Brien loomed over him, studying him like a specimen pinned to glass.

He reached out, fingers curling toward Elyas' throat—

—but before he could touch him, two heavy blows smashed into his ribs, flinging him several yards away.

A new voice cut through the smoke:

"You're not fighting just one enemy, Brien."

A boy in a brown uniform stepped into view, his scarred face twisted in a sneer.

At his side, a skeletal puppet swayed on thin legs, exuding a stench of rot.

Odin, from the Soul Puppet Sect.

Though also a 6th Level Scarlet Gold Rank, Odin was somewhat stronger than Elyas.

Brien's smirk slipped as he slowly straightened, crimson light flickering in his eyes.

"Odin…" he hissed, rage seething under every syllable.

"You fools. You think you can stop me? You'll regret ever daring to stand in my way."

Odin's expression didn't waver.

Without hesitation, he reached for his interspatial ring.

A silver crossbow, a handful of bolts, and a small vial materialized in his grasp.

He popped the vial open and lobbed it toward Elyas.

"Swallow that," he barked. "If you want to take your revenge, you'll fight with me."

Elyas caught the recovery pill in his mouth and forced it down.

Warmth pulsed through his veins, dulling the pain.

Slowly, he flexed his fingers, feeling strength seep back into the shattered bones.

Just enough.

He groped for his ring, and a red sword flickered into existence in his grip.

Flames erupted along its edge.

With a roar, he charged.

Odin's puppet lurched forward alongside him, and a volley of crossbow bolts followed.

Even two-on-one, they couldn't touch Brien.

He moved like smoke, too fast to pin down.

When he struck back, they were left with no choice but to block—evading was impossible.

--

High above, where Helbram and the faction masters observed the battlefield, every gaze had locked onto the skirmish.

They watched in grim silence.

After a time, Helbram finally spoke.

"Association Master Morris…your student is truly arrogant. But no one can deny it—he's far from an ordinary 6th Level Scarlet Gold Rank. To stand alone against two of the strongest young Adventurers…and remain unscathed…"

Morris smiled faintly, stroking his beard.

"You honor me, Lord Helbram," he said. "I taught him myself. He's always been…special."

Helbram didn't reply, his eyes narrowing.

BOOM.

A final explosion ripped through the city.

Three figures were thrown bodily to the ground.

Two were bleeding from dozens of cuts, groaning as they struggled to breathe.

The third—Elyas—barely moved at all, bones visibly shattered.

Brien dusted off his uniform and looked down at them with cold disdain.

"Hmph," he spat. "Even if there were ten of you…you'd still be worthless."

He stepped forward and stomped viciously on Elyas' arm, drawing another strangled cry.

Then he stooped and tore away their golden bracelets, adding them to his own.

A ripple of energy pulsed across the clearing as the bracelets fused.

Brien looked down at the two defeated boys—still scowling, still unsatisfied.

But then he stilled.

A familiar presence had emerged from the forest.

Slowly, a grin stretched across his face.

"At last…" he whispered. "You've finally come, Finn Doria."

From the treeline, Finn stepped into the open, his expression calm.

He laughed softly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

He came to a halt, raising his gaze to meet Brien's.

"It seems you really are confident," he said quietly.

"To think you'd come all this way…just to challenge me, Brien Latter."