Ascension Gates: Rise of the Beast Monarch-Chapter 70: The Third Round — Breaking Force

By the time the third round of the tournament began, the arena had undergone a transformation so profound that it was no longer recognizable as the same place where the competition had started.

At first glance, everything appeared unchanged.

The platforms were still arranged in perfect symmetry.

The instructors still stood in their designated positions.

The crowd still filled the surrounding stands.

And yet—

Something was different.

The atmosphere had shifted.

What once felt like an energetic, chaotic gathering of students eager to prove themselves had now turned into something far more serious.

Far more oppressive.

From the original two hundred and fifty-six participants who had entered the second round, only one hundred and twenty-eight remained.

That number alone carried weight.

But the meaning behind it was even heavier.

It meant that half of those who had already proven themselves in the first round—

Had been eliminated without hesitation.

And those who remained...

Were no longer ordinary competitors.

They were survivors.

Individuals who had adapted quickly enough, fought intelligently enough, or possessed enough raw strength to push through the earlier stages.

The careless had already been removed.

The overconfident had already fallen.

And what remained now—

Was a field of fighters who understood that every mistake carried consequences.

Real consequences.

The crowd reflected this change.

Gone were the loud cheers and unrestrained excitement that had filled the arena during the earlier rounds.

In their place was something quieter.

Heavier.

More deliberate.

Students leaned forward in their seats, their eyes fixed on the platforms below.

They were no longer watching for entertainment.

They were observing.

Analyzing.

Learning.

Because at this stage, every match revealed something valuable.

Every strategy exposed a weakness.

Every decision carried insight.

And every outcome—

Could serve as a lesson.

Aether stood once again at the edge of the participant’s platform.

His posture was calm, his breathing steady, his gaze unwavering.

But beneath that calm exterior—

There was focus.

A sharpened awareness that had not been present before.

He was no longer simply reacting to what he saw.

He was anticipating what would come next.

Beside him, the Flame Sovereign Pup sat quietly.

Its flames flickered in slow, controlled rhythms, rising and falling like a living pulse.

There was no chaos in its movements.

No unnecessary energy wasted.

But there was something else now.

A faint intensity.

A readiness that had not been present before.

It was subtle.

But unmistakable.

It, too, had understood.

This round would be different.

"You’ve noticed it, haven’t you?"

The voice in Aether’s mind surfaced once more, calm and perceptive.

Aether did not turn his head.

He did not shift his posture.

But his response came without delay.

"Yes," he said quietly. "The difference is obvious now."

There was a brief silence, as if she were observing him just as closely as he observed the battlefield.

"These opponents are not going to test just your strategy anymore," she continued. "They are going to test your limits."

Aether exhaled slowly, his gaze remaining fixed ahead.

"I expected that," he replied. "If it stayed the same, there would be no point in advancing."

A faint trace of approval colored her voice.

"That’s true," she said. "But understanding it and facing it are two very different things."

Aether’s expression did not change.

"I’ll deal with it when it comes," he said.

Another brief pause followed.

Then her tone shifted slightly, becoming more deliberate.

"You won’t have the luxury of observing your next opponent," she said. "Not like before."

Aether’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"So they’ll force immediate engagement," he replied. "Close-range pressure?"

"No," she answered.

There was something in her tone this time.

Something heavier.

"...Something worse."

Aether did not ask for clarification.

He didn’t need to.

The meaning was already clear.

Before the conversation could continue further, the instructor’s voice echoed across the arena.

"Aether. Platform Two."

The moment his name was called, the subtle murmurs within the crowd faded almost instantly.

This time, there were no casual whispers.

No dismissive comments.

Only silence.

A heavy, expectant silence.

Because now—

People were watching him on purpose.

Aether stepped forward without hesitation.

The Flame Sovereign Pup rose and followed closely beside him, its movements smooth and synchronized with his own.

As he walked toward Platform Two, he could feel the difference.

Dozens of eyes locked onto him.

Not out of curiosity.

But evaluation.

They were measuring him now.

Comparing him.

Trying to understand what made him different.

He stepped onto the platform.

His opponent was already waiting.

At the center stood a broad-shouldered student, his frame solid and grounded. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, but there was a distinct heaviness to his presence.

He wasn’t tense.

He wasn’t uncertain.

If anything—

He looked confident.

Beside him stood his beast.

A towering figure composed of dark metallic stone.

Its entire body was layered with thick, interlocking plates that resembled armor more than natural structure.

Each segment fit perfectly with the next, leaving almost no visible gaps.

Its arms were massive, its stance completely unmoving.

It stood like a fortress.

A Titan Iron Golem.

Aether slowed his steps slightly, stopping a short distance away.

His eyes moved across the golem’s body, analyzing every detail.

The density of the armor.

The structure of the joints.

The distribution of weight.

"High defense," Aether said calmly. "High durability. Likely resistant to direct elemental damage."

The opponent smirked, clearly amused.

"Looks like you’ve got sharp eyes," he replied. "That’s exactly right."

He rolled his shoulders slightly, as if loosening up.

"But knowing that won’t help you much," he continued. "You’re not getting through that with tricks."

Aether remained silent.

There was nothing to respond to.

The instructor raised his hand.

"Begin."

The moment the signal was given, the Titan Iron Golem moved.

Its movement was slow.

Heavy.

But overwhelming.

Each step it took caused the platform to tremble beneath its weight.

The ground cracked slightly under the pressure.

Then, without warning, it raised its massive arm high into the air.

The shadow it cast stretched across the battlefield.

And then—

It came down.

The impact was devastating.

The ground where Aether had been standing shattered completely, fragments of stone erupting outward as dust filled the air.

But Aether was no longer there.

He had already moved.

The Flame Sovereign Pup dashed to the side, flames trailing behind it in controlled streaks.

Aether observed carefully, his eyes never leaving the golem.

"You’re not breaking that with normal attacks," the voice in his mind said.

"I know," Aether replied.

The Flame Sovereign Pup moved forward.

It attacked.

Flames surged outward as its claws struck the golem’s arm.

But the result—

Was nothing.

Not even a scratch.

The opponent let out a short laugh.

"I told you," he said. "You can’t break it."

The golem retaliated immediately.

Its arm swung sideways with immense force.

Even though Aether moved back in time, the sheer force of the swing generated a shockwave that pushed the air violently outward.

The pressure alone was enough to disrupt balance.

Aether narrowed his eyes slightly.

"It’s too durable," he said quietly.

"And too simple," the voice added.

Aether paused briefly.

"...What do you mean?"

"Look at how it moves," she said.

Aether focused.

The golem stepped forward again.

Its movements were heavy.

Predictable.

Linear.

It did not adjust mid-motion.

It did not react dynamically.

"It doesn’t adapt," she continued. "It doesn’t think. It just follows commands."

Aether understood immediately.

A faint shift passed through his expression.

"Then we don’t break it," he said calmly.

The Flame Sovereign Pup turned slightly, as if responding to his intent.

"We outplay it."

A quiet laugh echoed in his mind.

"Now you’re thinking properly."

The Flame Sovereign Pup changed its approach.

It stopped attacking directly.

Instead, it began moving around the golem.

Fast.

Precise.

Controlled.

Each step was deliberate.

Each movement purposeful.

As it moved, faint traces of flame were left behind on the ground.

Thin lines.

Curving patterns.

At first, they seemed random.

But slowly—

A pattern began to form.

The opponent frowned.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his tone laced with confusion.

Aether did not respond.

The golem charged again.

The Flame Pup dodged effortlessly.

Again.

And again.

Each movement left behind more trails of flame.

Gradually, the battlefield began to change.

"You’re not even attacking," the opponent said, irritation creeping into his voice.

Aether finally spoke.

"Not yet," he replied calmly.

The golem raised both arms and slammed them down with tremendous force.

The platform cracked violently, sending shockwaves through the ground.

The flame trails were disrupted.

Scattered.

Broken.

The opponent smirked.

"Whatever you were trying to do—"

"Now," Aether said.

The Flame Sovereign Pup’s eyes ignited.

Every scattered flame trail reignited at once.

The battlefield lit up.

A wave of heat spread outward, engulfing the entire area.

The golem stood at the center—

Surrounded.

The flames did not break its armor.

But they didn’t need to.

The joints—

The connecting points—

Began to glow.

Aether’s eyes sharpened.

"There," he said.

The Flame Pup moved instantly.

This time, it targeted the weak points.

Precise strikes.

Repeated attacks.

The golem tried to react.

But it was too slow.

Too rigid.

CRACK.

One joint broke.

Then another.

Its movements slowed.

Its balance faltered.

Then—

It collapsed.

The impact shook the entire platform.

The Flame Sovereign Pup stood before it, flames steady.

The golem—

Did not rise.

The opponent stared in silence.

Then slowly exhaled.

"...I surrender."

"Winner: Aether."

The crowd did not erupt.

Instead—

They reacted with quiet respect.

"He dismantled it..."

"He didn’t overpower it..."

"He controlled everything..."

Aether turned away calmly.

The Flame Sovereign Pup followed.

"You’re adapting faster," she said.

Aether replied quietly,

"I’m learning what works."

Three matches.

Three victories.

Each one different.

Each one requiring a new approach.

"You’re beginning to understand the real game," she said.

Aether looked toward the arena.

"I’m just getting started."

As he returned, the way people looked at him had changed.

There was recognition.

And beneath it—

Concern.

Only sixty-four participants remained.

The tournament continued.

And Aether—

Moved forward with it.

Calm.

Controlled.

Unstoppable.

Because every battle—

Was not just a victory.

It was progress.

And the further he climbed—

The more dangerous everything would become.

But for Aether—

That was exactly what he wanted.