Floating Island - Triple S Talent

"Damn… it's just wood armor, but it's this strong?" he thought, still shocked by his opponent's power. He had underestimated the elf—a mistake that was now costing him.

Carter lifted his head, his eyes burning with renewed determination. A smirk formed on his lips.

"If that's how it is," he muttered, "I'll just have to blow your head off first."

The elf stared at him sharply, then raised his right hand, still gripping the wooden sword.

"I'll give you one more chance. Surrender." His voice was flat, cold, almost devoid of life. It was as if he was no longer speaking but rather a malevolent spirit within him.

Carter merely let out a soft chuckle. Usually, those who gave too many chances were just seeking validation.

"Alright…"

He slowly lowered both hands, slipping his pistols back into their holsters. His movements were sluggish, almost lazy, as if he was genuinely accepting the offer.

"Fine… I…"

The elf remained on guard, his eyes never leaving Carter.

"Will… blow you up!" Carter suddenly shouted, his voice laced with mockery.

Immediately, the elf sensed something was off. His instincts screamed, warning him that danger was imminent. But it was already too late.

A wave of heat erupted beneath his feet.

Then—

BOOM!

A massive explosion rocked the arena. Flames surged into the air, engulfing the elf's tree armor. Cracks began forming across its surface, spreading rapidly. The searing heat licked at his skin, biting relentlessly. His body froze. Cold. Terror gripped him.

I surrender! he screamed internally, desperate.

But he knew.

It was useless.

It was already too late.

___

"Eh...?"

Suddenly, he awoke from the terror. His breathing was still ragged, his body covered in cold sweat.

I'm not dead?

He stood on the main stage, the place where previous participants had waited for their turn. The environment had changed; the scorching heat from before had disappeared, replaced by a much colder atmosphere.

Crack…

A faint cracking sound came from inside his pocket. The participant plaque he had carried was now shattered into pieces.

Eliminated.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his opponent. The human man stood beside him, smiling casually.

"Yo..." Carter greeted him lightly.

The elf did not respond. He merely took a deep breath, staring bitterly at the fragments of his plaque.

"Eheheh... sorry," Carter continued, scratching the back of his head, as if feeling a little guilty.

The elf remained silent. Without a word, he turned around and stepped down from the stage with heavy footsteps. His eyes locked onto the stands, where his sect elder awaited him with an expression devoid of emotion. Meanwhile, his peers watched him with unreadable expressions—somewhere between disappointment and anger.

On the stage, Carter watched as the elf walked away.

"Well... he had it coming," he muttered quietly.

Then, he crossed his arms over his chest, lost in thought.

Was I too harsh?

His palm rubbed his chin as he reflected on the course of the battle. In the end, it was his high-tier bomb trap that secured his victory. At first, he had doubts about whether the strategy would work. The elf was a long-range fighter, and Carter wasn't sure his trap would be effective.

But once his opponent switched to close combat, everything changed. Carter only had to lower his guard a little—just enough to make the elf drop his own.

Before the elf's kick could land on him, Carter had already planted the trap right where he stood. With careful calculations and a bit of acting, he deliberately made a gesture of surrender, giving his opponent false hope. The elf's desire to see him submit had become his own downfall.

One explosion, and the fight was over.

"Mom... wait for me," Carter murmured softly. He looked up, his gaze fixing on one of the spectator stands. There, his father and younger sister waved at him.

His sister was bursting with excitement, her twin braids bouncing with her movements. In her hands, a Batman balloon floated, dancing with the wind. She looked like a small tree, its branches swaying happily. The sight warmed Carter's heart, as if all the exhaustion and tension from the battle had vanished in an instant.

With a light step, he made his way to the waiting area.

"I can watch another match," he muttered, curiosity stirring within him. His eyes flicked toward the towering duel platforms scattered around the arena. "But how do I do that? The battles are all up there."

Then, he suddenly remembered a new feature embedded in the participant plaque—a function that allowed him to watch matches just by entering a name, participant number, or duel platform number. A technology that was not only practical but also revolutionary.

Several names crossed his mind, but one stood out the most—Viola, the girl who had approached him before his match began. Read exclusive adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

Without hesitation, he typed in her name. In an instant, his body felt as though it was being pulled by an invisible force. The space around him shifted, and in the blink of an eye, he arrived on a platform filled with several people. More than ten spectators had already gathered, their eyes fixed on the center of the arena.

"Not surprising..." Carter thought to himself. Viola had a certain charm. He wasn't surprised that so many wanted to watch her fight.

In the arena, she stood tall, radiating confidence. Her battle gown fluttered slightly in the breeze, creating an elegant aura that contrasted with her opponent. A towering, muscular man stood before her, gripping a massive mace that made him look even more intimidating.

Yet, despite facing such a fearsome opponent, Viola remained unwavering. Her gaze did not falter in the slightest.

Carter smirked. "This is going to be interesting."

The muscular man did not attack immediately. Instead of charging in aggressively as expected, he moved to the side, his steps heavy yet measured. His eyes never once left Viola. Though his build resembled that of a brawler who relied solely on brute strength, his actions suggested something different—caution.