Chapter 108: The Global Stage
Chapter 108: Chapter 108: The Global Stage
Chapter 108: The Global Stage
Draven stood alone in the quiet training courtyard of the Apex Villa. The autumn wind rustled his coat as he stared at the glowing blue screen floating in his vision.
[Would you like to open the Monthly Vault?]
"Open it," Draven commanded softly.
The blue screen shattered into a shower of golden sparks. A pristine, glowing golden card materialized in the air and slowly floated down into his palm.
[Monthly Vault Opened.]
[Reward Granted: Mythical Skill Evolution Card.]
[Description: A single-use item capable of forcing any skill to break its natural limits and evolve to the next tier.]
Draven did not even need to think about his choice. He crushed the golden card in his grip.
"System," Draven said. "Evolve my S-Rank Vector Manipulation."
The golden dust from the card surged into his veins. Draven felt a sudden, terrifying pressure build behind his eyes. The entire world around him seemed to slow down. His vision zoomed in past the stone walls, past the dust in the air, piercing straight down into the microscopic fabric of reality.
[Evolution Successful.]
[New Skill Acquired: SS-Rank Vector Authority.]
[New Passive Unlocked: Microscopic Perception. Host can now perceive and manipulate kinetic direction at the cellular level.]
[New Active Unlocked: Cellular Suture. Host can forcibly direct organic cells to reconnect, granting instantaneous microscopic healing and tissue regeneration.]
Draven let out a heavy breath. The pressure faded. He flexed his fingers, feeling the raw, terrifying control he now possessed. He was no longer just throwing massive objects around.
He could manipulate the directional force of his own torn tissues, forcing them back together in a fraction of a second. It was a god-tier survival ability.
He was ready.
---
The next morning, the Vanguard Academy was buzzing with nervous energy.
Strike Team Zero walked together into the massive, dome-shaped Examination Hall. The center of the hall was lined with thousands of sleek, silver Neural Dive capsules.
Students were shivering and whispering as they climbed into their assigned pods. Draven found his pod labeled with his identification number. He lay back against the padded synthetic leather.
The transparent glass hatch sealed shut overhead. A cool gel activated around his temples, linking his consciousness directly to the Vanguard global server.
"Dive sequence initiated," a robotic voice echoed in his pod.
Draven closed his eyes.
"Alright! Time to break some heads!"
---
Millions of miles away, on the colossal holographic screens hovering over the bustling city squares of Bastion One, the broadcast went live.
"Welcome, citizens of humanity!" a booming, charismatic voice echoed through the global speakers.
The camera focused on Marcus Sterling. The retired, high-ranking Hunter wore a flashy suit and a brilliant smile. He stood in a massive, floating broadcaster booth high above the Capital’s arena.
"Today, we witness the birth of our future!" Marcus cheered, gesturing to the holographic leaderboards appearing behind him.
"Every first-year Vanguard student across all thirteen Bastions has just entered the Neural Dive. But make no mistake, my friends. This is not a simple simulation. The pain receptors are tuned to one hundred percent! If they bleed in the dungeon, their minds will feel every single ounce of that agony!"
The massive crowds in Bastion One roared with excitement.
"They will face the dreaded Five-Floor Gauntlet!" Marcus explained rapidly.
"A time-attack speedrun designed to test crowd control, precision, penetration, perception, and finally, the Boss Room! Only the fastest will survive! Let us see which of the students of the Bastion will come up on the top! Will there be a dark horse among us or will it be the Prodigies of the Bastion, who will take the top spot? Let’s see for ourselves!"
Marcus turned to the camera, his smile widening.
"But let us be honest," Marcus chuckled smoothly.
"We all know who the real stars are today. Let us take a look at the prodigies favored to take the top ranks!"
A series of holographic portraits flashed across the sky.
"From Bastion Five, the frost sovereign himself, Kaelor Astralrend! From Bastion Four, the shadow walker, Azrakar Voidborn! And of course, the pride of our very own Capital... the lightning monarch, Vaelith Starbane!"
The crowd in the Capital chanted Vaelith’s name in a deafening uproar. Marcus gave a dismissive wave as a few more names flashed on the screen.
"We also have a few hopefuls from the outer defensive rings," Marcus added with a slight, mocking tone.
"Bastion Seven has sent a noble named Aegon. Let us hope the outer ring does not embarrass itself too badly today!"
---
High above the roaring crowds of the Capital, inside a luxurious, floating VIP lounge, the Elders of the Vanguard High Council sat comfortably in plush velvet chairs.
They clinked crystal glasses filled with glowing crimson wine, watching the broadcast with amused, arrogant smiles.
"Did you see Kaelor’s form during the qualifiers?" a gray-haired Elder scoffed, taking a sip of his wine.
"Sloppy. Bastion Five is truly losing its edge."
"None of them matter," a noblewoman draped in jewels laughed softly.
"Vaelith Starbane will clear the Gauntlet in twenty minutes. The rest of the world is just competing for scraps."
A heavily scarred Elder sitting at the end of the table scoffed. He stared at the screen showing the roster for Bastion Seven.
"I cannot wait to see Bastion Seven fail," the scarred Elder sneered with sheer jealousy.
"Helion Goldmane thinks he owns the Vanguard just because he holds the defensive line. He sits out there in the dirt, acting like a king among peasants. Oh you have no idea how I loathe him."
"Let Goldmane have his little kingdom of mud," the noblewoman smiled wickedly.
"Once Vaelith shatters the global records today, the High Council will have the perfect excuse to slash Bastion Seven’s funding. We will put Goldmane right back in his place."
They all laughed, completely blind to the monster waiting in the simulation.
Back in the broadcast booth, Marcus Sterling raised his hand. The global countdown timer appeared on every screen across the world.
Three.
Two.
One.
"The game begins!!" Marcus roared.