The group entered the arena. The roar of the crowd instantly became ten times louder! The circular stands were packed with people—commoners, merchants, adventurers, and even rich nobles in private seats. In the center of the grounds, a fierce fight was happening. About twelve gladiators, mostly humans and a few demi-humans, were locked in combat. They fought in pairs or small groups using swords, axes, or their bare hands. Screams of anger, groans of pain, and the sound of clashing steel filled the air. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of sweat, blood, and wild excitement.
Ilya frowned slightly. She didn't like the dirt or the messy violence, but a spark of excitement showed in her blue eyes. She watched the "amateur fighting" for a moment before shaking her head.
"Boring." Her cold voice wasn't loud, but it strangely cut through the noise, reaching the ears of everyone near her.
Then, before Hekkeran and the others could react, Ilya took a light step forward.
She vanished instantly, like a reflection in water shattered by a stone!
In the next heartbeat, everyone was shocked. The brilliant silver figure appeared out of thin air in the center of the arena! She was floating about ten meters above the ground. She stayed there quietly, defying all common sense. Her silver armor reflected the sunlight, her cloak fluttered gently, and her silver hair flowed like a river of stars.
"Fl-Flight magic?!" "Who is she?!" "How is that possible? Look at her—how old is she?!"
The stands exploded with noise! Gasps and shouts broke out everywhere. In this world, using the [Fly] spell required a high level and special talent. Seeing someone as young as Ilya floating so easily was extremely rare. It was usually the sign of a genius mage or someone with legendary blood.
"Stop! Who dares to disrupt the arena?!" "Guards! Get her down from there!"
The arena staff and guards finally reacted. Shocked and angry, they shouted at Ilya. Several guards began preparing spells or aiming their bows.
Ilya completely ignored the shouting and the hostility. Her blue eyes looked down at the gladiators. They had stopped fighting to stare up at her in confusion. A faint, playful smile touched her lips.
"Hey, you lot." Her voice carried clearly throughout the entire arena. Even though she wasn't shouting, her voice covered all other noise. "Come at me all at once. I'll... help you stretch your limbs."
The crowd went wild again!
A beautiful girl in silver armor, floating in the air, was telling a group of bloodthirsty gladiators to "come at her all at once"? This wasn't just a challenge; it was a total insult!
The gladiators were stunned at first, then they became furious! They lived and died by the blade. They could not endure such an insult. Whether she was a beautiful woman or not, she was being arrogant in their arena. They wanted to beat her into the dirt!
"You're asking for death!" "Little girl, you're going to regret this!"
With a roar, the nearest gladiators attacked! A large man threw a heavy axe at Ilya. An agile assassin leaped up to attack her from the side. Several others charged with swords and spears, using "Martial Arts" to strike from different directions!
The spectators held their breath. Some looked away, thinking the girl was about to be killed. Others watched with excitement, eager for a bloody show. Those who were more experienced watched Ilya closely, wondering how she would react.
Where Foresight was sitting, Hekkeran and the others clenched their fists. Although they believed in Ilya's strength, they still felt nervous seeing so many attacks at once. Ivy was so scared she covered her eyes, peeking only through the gaps in her fingers.
Facing an attack that would have defeated a high-rank adventurer, Ilya didn't even blink.
She didn't use any skills. She didn't even use magic. She relied only on her perfect physical control and her natural strength.
Just as the axe was about to hit her, she spun elegantly in the air.
Clang!
Her silver boot moved faster than the eye could see. She casually kicked the side of the axe. The heavy weapon, which had been thrown with great force, flew back ten times faster. With a loud thud, it slammed deep into the stone wall below the stands. The handle was still vibrating violently.
Immediately after, the assassin jumping from the side saw a flash of silver. A powerful force slammed into his chest.
"Pfft—!"
The assassin flew backward even faster than he had jumped. He crashed outside the arena bounds and hit the railing. He was knocked out before he could even groan.
Then, the other gladiators reached her. Ilya moved like a butterfly through a garden of thorns. She wove through the blades and fists. Her movements looked like a beautiful dance. She dodged every attack perfectly and every strike she made was effective.
Sometimes, her leg would snap out like a whip, hitting a gladiator in the stomach. The man would fold in half and fly backward, knocking over several people behind him.
Other times, her palm would deflect a blade, sending the weapon flying and leaving the attacker stumbling.
It looked like a simple practice match. She used her fingers like swords or her palms to trade blows. The sound of rapid hits filled the air. Usually, the opponent would try to hit her four times, she would hit back once, and the opponent would fall down, unable to move.
She didn't kill anyone. Her control over her strength was perfect. Every hit was just enough to stop her opponent. She stayed floating in the air the whole time, treating the ambush like it was nothing. Everyone watching was deeply shocked.
Too fast! Too strong! It was unbelievable!
This wasn't a fight; it was a one-sided lesson.
In less than two minutes, not one gladiator was left standing. They lay on the ground, moaning in pain and terror. Meanwhile, Ilya remained floating in her original spot. Her silver armor was clean, her hair was neat, and her eyes were calm. It looked like she had just brushed dust off her sleeve.
The entire arena fell into a deadly silence.
Thousands of spectators—including nobles and guards—stood with their mouths open. They stared at the silver-haired girl in the air. Everything that happened had broken their understanding of reality.
Flight? Moving like she was teleporting? Defeating a dozen fierce gladiators so easily?
Who was this girl? How strong was she?
After the silence came a massive roar of shouting and debate!
"My God! What did I just see?!" "How did she do that?!" "Was that magic? I couldn't understand it at all!" "Is she a legendary Adamantite-rank adventurer? No, even they might not be able to do that!" "She's a monster!"
The arena managers turned pale with fear. They didn't know how to handle this. Should they stop her? How?
In the stands, Hekkeran and his team felt their hearts pounding. They were moved beyond words. This was the powerful person they had just joined! She was invincible!
Arche's eyes sparkled with light. (As I thought... this is nothing to her...) She felt grateful again that she had received the black crystal from Ilya.
Ivy was dazed, her mouth forming an "O" shape. She only had one thought: Big Sister is so cool!
In the arena, Ilya didn't care about the noise. She drifted down to the ground. Her silver boots made a crisp sound on the floor. She clapped her hands as if she had just finished a small task. She looked at the defeated gladiators and then at the exit.
"Warm-up over," she whispered to herself. She looked bored. "It seems no one here can make me get serious."
Her voice was soft, but it created even more shock in the hearts of the crowd.
"What did she say? That was just a warm-up?!" "She is so arrogant! She looks like a goddess, but she treats everyone like they are nothing!" "The Empire's leaders won't be happy about this. She just embarrassed the arena."
In the luxury seats, many nobles frowned. The Empire valued strength, and the arena was a place of national pride. An unknown girl winning so easily was a challenge to the Empire's reputation.
In the shadows, several cold eyes watched her. They were members of "Eight Fingers," the largest criminal group in the Empire. They controlled the gladiator trade and betting. Ilya was a dangerous new variable. They needed to know who she was.
"Go, find out where she came from," a man whispered to his servant. "Tell the heads of the Slave Trade and Arena divisions. Watch her every move."
Meanwhile, Hekkeran rubbed his face to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He whispered to Roberdyck, "Did you see that? That speed and control... it's mind-boggling!"
Roberdyck stammered, "C-Captain... she didn't even look like she was trying! Do you think she is stronger than Lord Fluder Paradyne?" He was talking about the Empire's strongest mage.
Arche shook her head and whispered, "No... it's different. Lord Fluder Paradyne is the best human, but Miss Ilya is on another level entirely. She probably didn't even use a tiny bit of her true strength."
In the arena, Ilya was thinking about leaving to find the snacks Hekkeran had mentioned. Just then, an angry voice shouted:
"You, silver-haired woman! The arena forbids using flight magic to interfere with matches! You have broken the rules! Come down for questioning immediately!"
It was a high-ranking manager, surrounded by strong guards and mages. Ilya's actions had insulted their authority.
Ilya tilted her head, looking at them with bored eyes. She didn't even bother to answer. This made the manager even angrier.
"How dare you! Guards, take her—"
Before he could finish, a group of young people in uniforms stood up. They looked arrogant. Leading them was a middle-aged man with a monocle. They were from the Imperial Magic Academy.
"Teacher Zell, look at her..." one student said, feeling offended.
The man called Teacher Zell pushed up his glasses and looked at Ilya. He was surprised, but also annoyed. He used magic to make his voice loud and clear:
"Young lady, your strength is impressive. However, this is the Imperial Grand Arena. By acting like this, are you trying to say the Empire has no strong warriors? Are you here to humiliate us?"
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