My Joker System: From Low Mana Trash to the Mightiest Wizard!-Chapter 130: Twisted Bastard

"...Competitor Fernan suffers a direct blow! Will this be the end?!"

The last quarterfinal match was reaching its conclusion.

Unexpectedly, the dark horse Fernan Fidomar was doing quite well.

The brown-haired young man had already revealed his true attitude, shedding his silent and humble persona after realizing he had a real chance to defeat the renowned Felix Dargon. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Fernan wasn’t as likable as he had made himself out to be, now spouting tough words.

A slight arrogant smirk had even formed on his face just moments earlier, before Felix sat him down with a ferocious Void Blast.

Nevertheless, both fighters were already battered and bruised, and Fernan didn’t seem ready to give up, struggling to get back on his feet once more.

Felix didn’t appear so invincible now, making Donner appear to be the true final boss of the tournament after his shocking one-hit kill in the first match.

Hal couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong, though.

He could only continue to watch the match with slightly narrowed eyes.

Fernan barely managed to dodge a Void Spear with Blink after getting back on his feet, then fired his Soulfire Fireball to counterattack shortly after.

Felix, on the other hand, defended himself by swallowing the bluish flaming projectile with a Void Pocket.

At this point, even the higher-ups in the Gaora VIP Hall were growing concerned—except for the representatives of the aristocracy, particularly those who prioritized their clan’s interests over the empire’s.

It had become clear to them that Fernan’s special fire was drawn directly from his soul.

While such power was rare, it was well known that overusing one’s soul could lead to irreversible mental damage.

They did not want Fernan to suffer such a severe setback in a mere competitive tournament that had no direct impact on the grand scheme of things.

Unfortunately, the young man seemed to have a real chance of winning and had the resolve to see things through.

How could they just barge in and ruin the tournament for everyone?

Both competitors were starting to run low on mana, and it seemed they had reached an unspoken agreement to end things.

Locking eyes, Felix and Fernan began casting their strongest spells.

Mana fluctuated violently around the stage as the two young wizards harnessed its power along with that of the elements.

Moments later, a massive Soulfire Meteor descended upon Felix.

Surprisingly, instead of counterattacking, the perceived top contender cast a Void Dimension spell above his head.

It was a questionable decision, as the spell not only consumed a sizable amount of mana but also served no real purpose beyond trapping someone or something within.

This time, it certainly didn’t seem to be used wisely.

Why had Felix opted to defend instead of attacking? Was he succumbing to nerves due to the close battle?

In any case, this move felt uncharacteristic for the usually composed young man.

A few of the higher-ups were disappointed, and some began reassessing him, especially when he fell to his knees moments later, panting from exhaustion.

Felix’s series of small, incorrect decisions frustrated the VIPs and slowly gave away the advantage to the more confident Fernan.

Watching his opponent stand up only to fall to his knees once more before finally managing to rise, Fernan laughed as he caught his breath:

"Hahahaha! So the so-called top contender is only at this level."

That said, the dark horse also knew he was reaching his limits, his mind beginning to fade.

’Let’s finish this,’ he thought.

The next moment, Fernan cast another Soulfire Fireball, aiming to finish off the struggling and weakened Felix.

But to his surprise, Felix was still able to manage another Void Pocket, absorbing his attack.

This slightly frustrated the dark horse.

’No matter...I have a bit more in the tank, unlike him...’

Yet, no matter what spell he used, Felix somehow managed to defend or dodge, even though the so-called top contender was clearly hanging by a thread and was in significantly worse condition than him.

Fernan was so close to winning, and he wasn’t about to give up now.

He pressed forward aggressively, firing spells and using what remained of his mana and mental strength, desperately trying to secure his much-deserved spot in the semifinals.

He was so focused on victory that he failed to assess his own condition.

Just as he prepared to fire what seemed to be his final spell at a spent Felix Dargon...

"AAAAHHHH!"

A chilling scream tore from his throat as a sudden wave of soul-rending pain struck his head.

Fernan’s eyes then rolled back, and he collapsed forward with a thud, twitching.

The arena fell silent for a moment before erupting into thunderous cheers and applause, with most of the crowd waving their hands in utter excitement.

They had thought Felix was finished.

However, to their bewilderment, it was the aggressor, Fernan, who collapsed first.

Even Hal was dumbfounded by the unexpected outcome.

Somehow, Felix Dargon had survived and advanced to the semifinals.

Hal couldn’t help but fix his gaze on the resilient young man, admiring his will and unwavering resolve to win, despite his mistakes and the increasingly overwhelming odds.

At least until he caught a glimpse of a subtle grin on the supposed top contender’s face...

’This bastard...’ Hal clenched his fists.

He had only been able to catch the bastard’s hidden glee because of the position of his resting chair.

Based on what he saw, Hal realized that Felix had been trying to ruin Fernan from the very beginning, even going so far as to put on a performance for it.

It didn’t seem like the two had any history.

So Hal could only conclude that Felix was a twisted, cruel, and conniving bastard.

He wasn’t anywhere near his limits at all.

Hal didn’t know much about traditional wizardry, but the fact that Fernan didn’t wake up on his own after the battle and had to be carried out on a stretcher told him everything.

What that bastard did was probably quite ruthless, something along the lines of giving someone false hope just to draw them in and make them self-destruct.

"C-C-COMPETITOR FELIX PULLS THROUGH AFTER A QUARTERFINAL SCARE!! THE TOP SEED ADVANCES TO THE SEMIFINALS THROUGH SHEER WILLPOWER AND RESILIENCE!"

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