I am Just an Average Tamer-Chapter 151: nooo

The room was small—barely larger than a stable cell. A narrow cot in the corner, a basin of cold water, and a single lantern floating in midair, its light flickering like a dying star.

Kai lay on his back, arms behind his head, staring at the stone ceiling. His daggers rested beside him, cleaned but unsheathed. Old habits died hard.

A low hum pulsed beside the bed.The Obsidian Fang.

It hadn’t stopped vibrating since the battle. Not loud. Just... there. Like a heartbeat. A second pulse, darker, deeper—not his, but now undeniably tied to him.

You’re not a weapon.You’re a cage.

That’s what the spear had whispered. A voice that wasn’t a voice. Felt like something brushing against his soul.

"Still awake?"

Kai turned his head.

he arena pulsed, recognizing the surrender. The match ended.

Corrin stepped back, expression calm, but Kai—watching from the sideline—noticed the subtle rise in his chest. The slight tremor in his fingers.

He pushed himself. Harder than he let on.

❖ Scene: Backstage Waiting Chamber ❖

Back behind the ring, a dozen healers moved through the resting zone, casting light magic and checking vitals.

Kai sat in the corner, watching the matches play out through a hovering illusion screen. Vael perched on the backrest of the bench behind him, ruffling its feathers, while Vex slept in the shadows nearby—always one paw in the material world.

Corrin strode in moments later, wiped blood off his chin, and flopped down beside Kai.

"She hits like a storm dragon," he muttered.

"You fought well."

Corrin grinned. "Compliment? From you? I must be dying."

Kai smirked faintly. "You will be. If you keep letting them push you into showing off."

"Gotta make the sponsors happy. Nobles eat that shit up."

Kai’s smile faded.

"They’re not looking at us like people. They’re looking for weapons."

Corrin didn’t argue.

❖ Scene: Match Highlights Montage (Quick Cuts) ❖

Rashira vs Galen Korr – The mage girl stood her ground, outsmarting the brute with clever traps and layered terrain spells. Her Riverwake Serpent coiled and lashed with elemental water, countering Galen’s earth-based summons with sheer grace.

Victory by tactical suffocation—opponent forced into surrender as Rashira flooded half the ring.

Cassian vs Iro Vale – The dual-blade wielder was lightning incarnate. His style was a hurricane of steel—unrelenting, flowing, but precise. He fought like every move was preordained.

His final strike disarmed Iro in three swift steps. No wasted motion. Pure skill.

Other Matches – The masked girl, Azura, didn’t summon a beast or use a weapon. She walked through her opponent’s attacks like a shadow—untouchable, eerie, and ended it with a single palm strike that cracked bone through reinforced armor.

The professors whispered her name afterward."Is she from the Obsidian Temple?""No. Worse. She’s unregistered."

Corrin stepped through the shimmering barrier curtain, shoulders tense. The crescent blade strapped to his back hummed lightly as he moved—like it had absorbed some of the fight’s ferocity.

"Couldn’t sleep," Kai muttered.

Corrin dropped into a squat beside him, tossing him a flask of cold water. "You keep looking at that spear like it’s gonna stab you on its own."

"It might."

Corrin gave a short laugh. "True."

They drank in silence for a moment. The air was heavier now—not from fatigue, but anticipation. Pressure. Like the forest trial had been just the prologue to something far more dangerous.

"They announced something," Corrin said finally.

Kai turned his eyes toward him, still silent.

Corrin continued, "There’s going to be a final Elite Round—not part of the original three trials. Just for the top-ranked token holders. Invitation only. Twelve of us."

Kai’s eyes narrowed. "Twelve."

"Yeah. And guess what?"

Corrin pulled out a crystal seal and flicked it. A glowing symbol spun into the air: a wolf with wings, etched in golden fire. The symbol of the Academy Council.

"They want a ’public showcase’ tomorrow. Full audience. Nobles. Sponsors. Alumni."

Kai scowled. "We’re not performers."

Corrin’s voice lowered. "We are now. Whether we like it or not. You moved the rankings. That fight with the gorilla? People saw you. Heard what that spear did."

Kai looked at the spear again.

"I didn’t do it for show."

"I know," Corrin said. "But they don’t care. This is politics now. You got noticed."

A silence stretched between them. Then Corrin added quietly, "I think they want to see who’ll break first. You or the other token holders."

The crowd murmured as the Headmaster himself walked out.

Thalor Veylan raised his hand.

The arena fell into complete silence.

"Today," he said, voice echoing unnaturally, "you stand not as students—but as potential pillars of the next generation."

"Each of you holds a token. Each of you survived the third trial with strength, wit, or sheer will."

"But talent alone is not enough."

His eyes scanned the twelve.

"You will now fight. One-on-one. Tournament style. Until only three remain."

Gasps rippled across the audience.

"Not to the death," Thalor added, "but close enough."

A ring of protective runes flared around the center stage. And from above, a floating wheel of names spun in slow, magical rotation.

Kai watched it without flinching.

The names began to flash and blur. Faster. Faster—

Then stopped.

Two names pulsed.

Kai ValkrosvsTalia Yurne

Kai’s gaze snapped toward the hooded girl at the far end.

She smiled beneath her veil, her eyes glowing faintly with twin rings—one violet, one red.

"Begin," Thalor whispered.

The arena flared.

❖ Scene: Arena Floor – Kai vs Talia Begins ❖

Kai moved first—Ghost Steps.

He vanished into a ripple of shadows, feet barely brushing the marble.

But Talia didn’t even blink. Her hands moved in a strange sequence—half-signs, half-dance—and the air twisted.

Illusions.

She vanished too. A pulse of violet smoke erupted, and suddenly six Talias stood around him, each smirking, each holding twin crescent knives that shimmered with distorted energy.

Kai didn’t hesitate.

He closed his eyes.

Falcon’s Sight.

His perception shifted. Not vision. Not hearing. Something more... instinctual. The beat of footsteps. The flutter of fabric. The sound of air being sliced.

He spun and threw a senbon laced with paralysis at the third Talia—

Poof!

Illusion.

The fourth Talia behind him swung her blade low—Kai ducked, rolled, and slashed with one dagger, his shadow snapping outward like a whip.

Phantom Slash!

The fifth illusion vanished.

Still fake.

"You’re good," a voice whispered by his ear.

Kai whipped around—Talia stood inches away, upside down, hanging midair from nothing.

What—?!

She smiled, touching his chest lightly—

Boom.

A blast of mental force erupted outward.

Illusion Shock.

Kai staggered, mind flickering, vision doubling.

But that was her mistake.

She got close.

And when Kai was close—

He struck.

One senbon in her shoulder.

One dagger against her thigh.

Then—

Vex!Stealth – Shadow Ball!

The Phantom Lynx exploded into the arena in a blur of black and violet, a massive orb of dark energy crashing toward Talia before she could recover.

Boom!

Talia went flying across the arena, slamming into the barrier. Her illusions shattered. Her veil torn.

Silence.

She coughed, tried to rise—then the mark on her arm flared and she was teleported out.

Kai stood alone.

Breathing hard.

But victorious.

The wheel spun again, fast as a stormwind, until two names glowed bright in the sky:

Corrin DuskrazevsLysa Virell

The crowd murmured again. Whispers raced across noble balconies and sponsor boxes.

"Corrin... that’s the Crescent Fang wielder, right?""And Lysa... the Virell heiress? She’s a high-elementalist."

Tension swirled.

Lysa stepped forward—a tall, pale girl with hair like frost-touched silver. Her eyes burned with cold fire. In her hand, a crystalline staff pulsed with unstable elemental energy. A badge on her robe bore the twin insignias of wind and lightning mastery.

Corrin just rolled his neck.

Then grinned.

"Ladies first?" he said, spinning his crescent blade once in a smooth arc.

Lysa didn’t answer.

Instead, she raised her staff—and the wind howled.

❖ Scene: Duel Begins ❖

A tornado of sharp air blades screamed down from above, but Corrin didn’t dodge.

Ching!His crescent blade sang as it carved through the wind with a dancer’s grace.

He twirled, slid across the marble, each movement fluid and precise. Wind slashed past his skin, slicing thin trails of blood—but none deep enough to stop him.

"You sure love the flashy stuff," he called out.

Lysa’s eyes narrowed. She thrust her staff downward—

Boom!

A lightning arc split the floor, racing toward Corrin like a serpent of pure light.

Corrin leapt, flipped midair, and hurled his blade.

It spun with deadly grace—a boomerang made for killing.

Lysa waved her staff, conjuring a barrier of spinning wind to deflect the blade.

It passed straight through.

Slash!

A thin cut opened across her cheek.

Lysa stumbled, caught off guard. "You... disrupted the arcane wind seal?"

Corrin landed behind her, catching his blade as it returned.

"I told you," he whispered near her ear. "I dance better than storms."

Then he vanished.

Ghost Steps. A flicker of motion. And suddenly he was behind her again, blade raised to her neck.

"I yield," Lysa whispered, pale and trembling.