Celia blinked in surprise. "You reversed his time… but not the world's?"

"Exactly," Nolan said. "That's the difference."

Linda grinned, impressed. "Wow, Master. You really are incredible."

Nolan chuckled softly. "And you're smart, Linda. You noticed the difference quickly.

"But Master, since when were you capable of that?" Linda asked, her brows furrowed. "You told us you could stop time — but not reverse it or rewind it. You even said that even if someone died, you'd still be able to heal them. Is that really true?"

"How dare you question our Master?" Celia snapped. "Do you think he's just talking nonsense?"

"No, it's not like that at all!" Linda said quickly. "I believe him — I just want to hear it from him directly."

Nolan smiled softly. "Don't worry about it," he said. "It's true."

Meanwhile, Kyrion had returned to the crowd, completely unaware that Nolan had saved Israel — or that the boy was still alive. He walked confidently, a faint smirk on his face. But as he sat down, that smirk slowly faded.

What's going on? he thought. I'm out of the arena. Even if he dies now, it shouldn't matter — they can't blame me. My Life Consume curse should've taken his soul already. So why… hasn't it?

He frowned, his thoughts racing. He should be dead. The healers couldn't have saved him. The curse guarantees death. So why hasn't it activated?

Kyrion leaned forward, staring at the arena. The sand was clean — no blood, no body. His eyes narrowed.

Then Sela appeared beside him. "Master… he didn't die."

"What?" Kyrion turned sharply. "What do you mean, he didn't die? That boy was cursed! No one — not even the healers — could've undone that."

Sela's voice was calm but cold. "It was Nolan. He did something… something beyond Life Consume. It wasn't a curse or a healing spell. It was as if he turned back the boy's time. Every wound, every torn organ — restored completely. I could feel it."

Kyrion's jaw tightened. In a burst of fury, he slammed his hand against the chair beside him. BOOM! The wood splintered into pieces.

"How dare he…" Kyrion muttered through clenched teeth. "He's more dangerous than I thought. Someone who can undo a curse that defies life itself… There's more to him than meets the eye."

His gaze shifted toward Nolan's direction. His eyes glowed faintly red with rage — and a hint of fear.

Meanwhile, Nolan could feel Kyrion's gaze burning into him, but he didn't care. What truly bothered him wasn't the stare — it was the thought of someone trying to kill a fourteen-year-old kid. The memory of it made his jaw tighten. He hid his irritation behind a faint smile, chatting casually with Celia and Linda as he waited for the next match to begin.

"Wow, everyone! Are you all ready?" the emissary shouted to the audience.

"Yes!" the crowd roared back.

"Are you sure you're ready for the next match?" the emissary called again, his voice echoing across the arena.

"YES!" the audience screamed in excitement.

"This is going to be a crazy combo — the kind of match no one expected! Next up, Asta versus Linda, the elf!" the emissary announced.

The entire arena exploded in cheers. The crowd was on their feet, shouting Linda's name and chanting for Asta.

"I'm going to face Asta," Linda said, tightening her fist with determination.

Nolan gently placed his hand over hers. "Please, don't risk too much. He's not someone who'll go easy on you. Even if you lose, he might injure you — badly."

Linda looked up at him, eyes steady. "No, Master. I'm not going there to lose. I'm going to win. I know I've improved. I will beat him."

Nolan smiled slightly. "I believe in your strength, but don't get ahead of yourself. There's always someone stronger. Still, your potential is remarkable — you've grown a lot. But remember, Asta is one of the top five strongest fighters here. So be careful… and be smart."

"Yes, Master. I will," Linda said, bowing her head slightly.

She then turned and walked toward the arena tunnel, her steps firm and confident.

At the same time, Asta stood up from his seat, expression calm but sharp. Without saying a word, he made his way to the back of the arena as well, ready for the fight that was about to shake the crowd.

Both Linda and Asta stood in the dimly lit tunnel behind the arena, waiting for their names to be called. The air was tense, filled with the faint echoes of the roaring crowd outside.

Then—

"Linda! Step into the arena!" the emissary announced.

Linda inhaled deeply and walked forward, the sunlight hitting her face as she entered the vast arena. She raised her hand, and a glowing spirit sigil flared to life on her palm. A brilliant bull made of light materialized beside her — its presence surrounded by faint, floating petals of energy. The spirit lowered its head and stood beside her, ready for battle.

Next—

"Asta! Step into the arena!" the emissary called.

Asta walked in calmly, his expression unreadable, every movement precise and confident. The moment he stepped onto the sand, the crowd erupted in cheers and chants of his name.

Now, Linda and Asta stood facing each other at the center of the arena, the wind swirling lightly between them.

"Master… do you think she can win?" Celia asked quietly, watching from the stands.

Nolan exhaled slowly. "No… not at her current strength. Don't let my last fight with Asta fool you — he's far from weak. Did you see his match with zevric? That alone showed his true power."

Celia nodded grimly. "Yes, Master. I know. Even I might not stand a chance against him."

Nolan's gaze stayed fixed on the two fighters below. "I just hope Linda doesn't push herself too far…"

The emissary raised his hand. "Now—let the next battle begin!"

The crowd exploded with excitement, their cheers shaking the entire coliseum as Linda and Asta drew their weapons, eyes locked, tension sharp enough to cut through the air.

Then, in an instant, an ice sword formed in Asta's hand — frost spilling off the blade like mist.

Linda raised her bow, blocking the first strike. She exhaled sharply and heightened her senses; mana surged through her veins, sharpening her hearing, sight, and reflexes until every movement around her slowed. Her perception expanded—she could feel even the faint hum of Asta's mana in the air.

Asta charged, fast and steady. Linda's eyes traced his movement—she aimed, releasing a wind-infused arrow. The shot tore through the air at incredible speed, but Asta merely raised his left hand and swatted it aside.

Wait—that's impossible, Linda thought, her pulse quickening. That arrow could pierce stone. His arm should've shattered from the force… how?

Asta kept advancing, the frost on his sword thickening as he moved. Linda knelt, lowering her aim, and fired again—this time at his legs. Asta twisted aside, avoiding it by inches. She predicted his next step and loosed another arrow, but his speed spiked again, almost vanishing from sight.

I can't track him! So this is what it's like… watching from the stands never showed the real speed, Linda realized, her breath unsteady.

Asta closed the gap in an instant. His sword came down, gleaming blue with frozen mana. Linda used her bow as a shield, its divine wood clashing against the ice blade with a thunderous crack. Sparks of frost and wind scattered between them.

She shoved forward, driving a kick toward his stomach—but Asta didn't even flinch. His body barely shifted. Then, behind him, shards of ice began forming mid-air—thin, sharp spears designed for precision rather than power.

They launched.

Linda dove, rolling across the sand—dodging seven in a blur of motion. But two spears pierced her arm, and another drove into her side. Blood spilled across her robes. She staggered back, gasping.

Asta lowered his sword slightly, watching her with calm, glacial eyes. He could see her mana faltering.

Linda clenched her jaw, breathing heavily. "What's going on…?

"Please, restrain yourself," Asta said quietly, his tone firm but calm. "You're a lady… that's the only reason I'm holding back. I've watched your fights. I've seen how good you are. But I'll tell you this—" his eyes narrowed, frost mist curling around his blade, "—even you can't win this match."

Linda wiped the blood from her lips, her breathing ragged. "Like hell I can't," she snapped. "I'm not finished yet!"

She straightened herself, her hands trembling as mana surged through her body. The bleeding from her wounds slowed, then stopped—though she could feel the pain still burning deep inside. She forced her body to move anyway.

With a sharp inhale, she drew another arrow, mana wrapping around it like wind and light combined. The world slowed in her perception—every sound, every breath, every flicker of movement around her.

She released.

The arrow streaked through the air, but before it could reach him, Asta moved—his speed snapping the world back to full motion.

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