The referee's hand dropped, and the roar of the crowd intensified. Lee Jae-hyun didn't waste a second. A torrent of crimson flames erupted from his palm, streaking across the arena like a hungry serpent.
Min-jun didn't panic. He had seen this attack a thousand times in his dreams. He shifted his weight, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, and then lunged forward, not backward, veering sharply to the side. The flame passed harmlessly behind him, leaving a scorched trail on the arena floor.
Jae-hyun's smirk faltered. "Fast, but predictable," he scoffed, already winding up for another attack. "Let's see you dodge this!"
He unleashed a barrage of smaller, faster fireballs, scattering across the arena. Min-jun moved like a shadow, weaving through the fiery projectiles, his F-rank agility pushed to its absolute peak. Each dodge was precise, economical, consuming the least amount of energy possible. He was a ghost dancing through a field of fire.
The crowd began to buzz. This wasn't the clumsy F-rank they expected. This was something else.
"What's he doing?" Park Sun-mi muttered from the stands, her brow furrowed. "He's not just dodging, he's... anticipating."
Jae-hyun grew frustrated. His C-rank Flame Manipulation might have raw power, but Min-jun's relentless evasion denied him any solid hit. He started incorporating feints, throwing a fireball to the left only to immediately follow with a burst of flame to the right. But Min-jun was ready. His dream training had prepared him for Jae-hyun's every trick, every pattern.
He saw the flicker in Jae-hyun's eyes, the slight shift in his left foot before he launched a sweeping arc of fire. Min-jun dropped to one knee, letting the flame wash over where his head had been just a moment before, then sprang back up, closing the distance.
Jae-hyun, surprised by Min-jun's aggressive counter, tried to fend him off with a quick burst of flame from his palm. But Min-jun's hand shot out, not to block, but to deflect the mana directly at its source. It wasn't a powerful hit, but it momentarily disrupted Jae-hyun's focus, causing the flame to sputter.
"What was that?" Jae-hyun snarled, pulling back. He rubbed his wrist, a look of confusion on his face. Min-jun had aimed for a precise pressure point, a technique he'd meticulously practiced against phantom mages in his dreams. It didn't deal damage, but it temporarily threw off their mana flow.
Min-jun didn't reply. He moved, his movements fluid and efficient, circling Jae-hyun, forcing him to keep turning. He wasn't trying to overpower him; he was looking for an opening, for a moment of imbalance.
Jae-hyun, fed up with the evasive F-rank, decided to end it. He channeled a significant amount of mana, his body glowing brighter with crimson energy. "Time to finish this, Blank Slate!" he roared, preparing his ultimate technique – a concentrated, blasting torrent of flame.
Min-jun's eyes narrowed. He recognized the tell-tale signs. He'd drilled against this exact scenario countless times. As Jae-hyun prepared his attack, Min-jun didn't wait. He launched himself forward, a daring, almost suicidal charge directly into the build-up of the attack.
The crowd gasped, some people covering their eyes. It looked like Min-jun was about to be incinerated.
But at the last possible second, just as Jae-hyun unleashed the devastating blast, Min-jun executed a perfectly timed pivot and roll. He narrowly slipped under the scorching torrent of flame, his body incredibly low to the ground. The heat still seared above him, singeing his hair, but he was through, already behind Jae-hyun who was left momentarily unbalanced from the force of his own unleashed attack.
"Gotcha!" Min-jun's voice was a sharp whisper.
Before Jae-hyun could even react, Min-jun was on him. He landed a rapid series of strikes to Jae-hyun's back, focusing on critical pressure points, then spun Jae-hyun around, using his opponent's own momentum against him. Jae-hyun stumbled, his mana flickering, momentarily unable to conjure another flame.
Min-jun seized the opportunity. He executed a lightning-fast leg sweep, hitting Jae-hyun just above the ankle. Jae-hyun cried out, losing his footing. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his head hitting the mat with a dull thud.
The referee rushed forward, checking on Jae-hyun, who lay momentarily stunned. He then turned, looked at Min-jun, and raised his hand.
"Winner: Kim Min-jun!"
Silence. Absolute, stunned silence.
Then, the arena erupted. It wasn't a roar of excitement; it was a cacophony of disbelief, gasps, and then, a tidal wave of thunderous applause that shook the very foundations of the building. An F-rank, the "Blank Slate," had just decisively defeated a C-rank Awakener from one of the most prestigious academies.
Jae-hyun scrambled to his feet, a furious flush on his face, his eyes blazing with rage. "You... you cheated! How did you do that?!"
Min-jun simply looked at him, his expression calm but resolute. "I just worked harder."
The words, simple as they were, carried the weight of hundreds of hours of unseen effort, of silent battles fought in the realm of dreams. As Min-jun walked towards the edge of the ring, a small smile finally touched his lips. So-yeon was jumping up and down, cheering, while Chul-soo gave him a rare, genuine grin and a thumbs-up.
He had won. He had won not with flashy powers, but with relentless training, unyielding discipline, and the quiet, boundless potential of his unique skill. The "Blank Slate" was no more. The Dream Weaver had arrived.