SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts - Chapter 379: Elias Vs Kellen
Chapter 379: Elias Vs Kellen
“Semifinal Match Two: Elias Verdan versus Kellen Drein.”
The crowd didn’t scream.
They stood.
Thousands.
As one.
The arena trembled with silence.
Not tension.
Not panic.
Anticipation.
Kellen stepped forward first.
No emotion on his face.
His robe fluttered once.
That was all.
He reached the center of the platform and waited.
No stance.
No weapon.
Just calm.
Elias followed.
One footstep after the other.
No flourish.
No pause.
He stepped onto the platform.
And finally — Elias — looked at his opponent directly.
Their eyes met.
Not like rivals.
Not like enemies.
Like two reflections that had never known they came from the same mirror.
From the stands, Reiz sat forward.
Cael crossed his arms.
Renna, despite everything, found her fingers clenching again.
Miss Leana muttered, “Now we see if stillness… or momentum wins.”
Damon chuckled darkly. “What if they both lose?”
The announcer raised a trembling hand toward the center.
The barrier locked into place — triple thick.
The arena went still.
“Combatants ready…”
Elias lowered his center of gravity.
Kellen narrowed his eyes.
“Begin.”
The moment “Begin” echoed, neither of them moved.
Not right away.
No flash.
No charge.
Just two twenty year old students standing on a platform made for gods.
The pressure came first.
Kellen’s aura expanded — vast, rippling outward in a slow wave, drawing in magic essence from the air like a tide pulling against shorestone.
Elias?
He sank.
No aura. No flaring spells or magic circles. No chant.
But the ground beneath his feet vibrated.
The air around him hummed.
Not loud.
Not sharp.
Just… inevitable.
Then, Elias moved.
And the battle began.
The first spell snapped into existence like a glass shard between worlds — a hook of condensed force laced with wind-thread, launched from the left without Elias lifting a hand.
Vwoooosh!!
Kellen dodged sideways—barely.
He flicked his fingers, prepared to replicate the spell, eyes tracking its arc but it had already vanished.
No spell. No lingering residue. No formula to analyze.
Just an aftershock.
Before Kellen could recalibrate, another spell came — a ripple in the air, folding space behind his knees.
He stumbled.
A displacer trap?
He tried to record the distortion.
There was nothing.
Another spell followed.
This one a beam of raw flame curved like a scythe, spinning toward his side.
Kellen ducked.
It singed his robe.
By the time he turned to analyze it, it was already gone.
“Something’s wrong,” murmured a Crowgarth instructor in the viewing tier. “He’s not giving Kellen any time to learn.”
Miss Leana narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think he’s using a spell sequence.”
Damon leaned closer. “He’s not repeating spells so Kellen can’t even observe the spells a second time.”
On the platform, Kellen began to sweat.
Not from pain.
From frustration.
He couldn’t track Elias’s casting.
There were no magic circles forming before the attacks. Nothing to signal what was coming.
No chants.
No calls.
No time.
Each spell was like a breath — exhaled, done, discarded.
In the upper pavilion, Dean Godsthorn finally spoke.
“He’s finally using his gift.”
The other Deans glanced at him.
Oryll’s brow creased. “You knew?”
Godsthorn didn’t look away. “I was there the first time he used it.”
Elias’s talent wasn’t what everyone thought.
Not field manipulation.
Not essence suppression.
But the absence of chant.
Spellless Casting.
Every attack was instant.
Direct.
No projection. No delay. No preparation window.
Kellen pivoted, breathing heavier now.
Every movement of Elias’s brought a different attack — a flame burst, a crystal lance, a sonic whip that curved and snapped.
Each one unique.
None repeated.
Nothing to learn.
Nothing to copy.
The crowd was silent.
Not bored.
Just lost.
Because for the first time, it didn’t look like a fight.
It looked like a demonstration.
Kellen finally made a decision.
If he couldn’t learn from Elias in real time—
He’d fall back on his stored arsenal.
He stomped once.
And triggered five runes across his limbs.
One across his chest.
One in each arm.
One in each leg.
Each one glowing.
Stored.
Ready.
Five combat abilities.
Copied from five high-ranked spellcasters in Wyrmere’s internal dueling circuit.
He hadn’t planned to use them here.
But Elias left him no choice.
He fed the first rune—his left leg—with magic essence.
Burst Step — a teleportation-grade acceleration spell that seemed to bend and shrink space.
He vanished.
Reappeared behind Elias.
Strike one: Flame Blade from his right arm — copied from a fire specialist who trained in precision slashes.
Boooom!
Blocked.
Elias raised a field of compressed air without looking.
Strike two: Pulse Shield Breaker — stored in Kellen’s shoulder.
Elias twisted at the hip. The strike missed his ribs.
Strike three: Magic Lance — a construct laced with thunder and shockforce.
Elias didn’t dodge this one.
He let it hit.
It shattered against his midsection.
The crowd gasped.
But Elias didn’t move.
He stared straight at Kellen.
Eyes darker now.
Slower.
Not worried.
Not smug.
Tired.
Kellen took that moment to push with everything.
He raised his hands, feeding two more stored abilities.
Compression Blast and Phase Hammer — both focused force spells designed to overwhelm casters with stronger essence control.
He slammed them into Elias’s position.
Boooooom!!
The ground cracked.
The barrier warped.
Smoke flared.
And when it cleared—
Elias was still standing.
A cut across his cheek.
A single drop of blood tracing his jaw.
But his eyes?
They weren’t tired anymore.
They were angry.
Not wild.
Not cruel.
Just done.
“You use strength,” Elias said, voice level.
Kellen blinked. “And?”
“You think it’s enough.”
Kellen narrowed his eyes. “It usually is.”
Elias’s palm rose.
Not toward Kellen.
But toward the sky.
And the platform beneath his feet lit up.
Not a magic circle.
Not a formation.
Just a silent message.
I’m done giving you chances.
The next sequence happened in three seconds.
Boooooom!!
A pulse wave erupted from Elias’s body, pushing Kellen backward twenty feet.
A binding chain formed from water-thread, lashed around Kellen’s ankle.
A freezing blast detonated along the chain, numbing Kellen’s entire left side.
“Ahhh!!” He screamed.
Tried to cut it loose.
Elias followed.
No mercy.
No repetition.
Then came the unforgivable move.
Elias stepped into Kellen’s guard and grabbed his wrist — the one holding Flame Blade.
He didn’t break it.
He overwhelmed it.
He pumped it full of magic essence that it became useless.
The stored spell flickered—
And died.
Kellen’s eyes widened.
“You—!”
