Endless Evolution: Last Star Chapter 1736 1736: The First Desire to Win (Part 2)

Perhaps Zin's motivations for engaging in combat differed from those around him. Unconcerned with the opinions of others or their approval of his deeds, he stood apart.

For Zin, such matters held no significance, as he was consistently driven by his own distinct objectives, and this current confrontation within the Grim Court was no deviation from that pattern.

However, a crucial element eluded Zin's foresight: the undeniable reality that the actions, thoughts, and intentions of others could, at times, directly intersect with and influence one's own life and aspirations.

No one present in the arena could reasonably question Zin's imminent victory. Yet, for him personally, such a triumph would have carried little weight. It served, however, as an unsettling harbinger, revealing the vast distance that still separated him from his ultimate goal.

In a rather peculiar turn of events, it was only now, with a significant portion of the spectators shifting their allegiance and a black blade piercing his shoulder, that the true import of this battle dawned upon Zin.

Winning was an absolute necessity; failure meant forfeiting his goal entirely. There was simply no alternative path forward.

A fundamental truth, evident to everyone since their very first combat engagement, had only just become crystal clear to Zin.

Victory first, and all else would follow.

Ripple. Ripple. Ripple.

Over Zin's wounded shoulder, concentric waves of sound vibrated, effectively halting the deeper penetration of Adam's needle-like blade.

Although he had already sustained two grievous wounds, Zin recognized that without this timely intervention, the obsidian weapon would have cleaved him in twain.

"Shit…"

Zin spat the curse, causing Adam's irises to contract. He hadn't anticipated such a reaction by any measure.

"Do you have any idea how much I detest this? How much I despise shattering the quiet? But…" His gaze drifted downward to the crimson pool forming at his feet.

A distinct chill coursed through Adam's very being.

'Something is amiss? What is he preparing to unleash?'

Remarkably, Zin did not resort to snapping his fingers, nor did he employ any claps or flicks of his wrist. No such conventional gestures were made.

These were his preferred methods of attack previously – efficient, straightforward, and, crucially, silent.

However, in adhering strictly to silence now, he risked succumbing to it, his ultimate objective remaining tragically unfulfilled.

"Ah…"

With a profound exhalation, Zin parted his lips to their widest possible extent, rendering Adam utterly ashen-faced.

"RGHHHHHOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

An earth-shattering roar descended upon Adam, its sonic fury engulfing the entirety of the arena. Wave after wave of sound battered him, inaugurating a cascade of lacerations across his chest and shoulders.

Blood erupted from his ears in torrents, and his vision swam as his eyes, engorged with blood, threatened to burst.

WHOOOOOOOOSH!

The concussive force of the sound wave propelled Adam backward, towards the arena's center. Yet, the devastating sonic assault did not cease its impact.

The assembled spectators, be they Fangs or those of lesser standing, found themselves compelled to shield their ears. Though not directly targeted, Zin's bellow made their heads feel on the verge of exploding.

'Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!' Sarka inwardly shrieked, pressing her hands against her ears with all her might. 'When will this torment end?!'

Loargh, Vyora, Valleyn, and a host of others found themselves in an identical predicament. Had they been in Adam's position, they would have undoubtedly suffered injuries of comparable severity.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The northern boundary of the arena began to fracture, its rocky facade crumbling to the ground. The sheer vibrational intensity originating from Zin's vocalization, from his primal roar, possessed the power to rival that of a colossal earthquake.

With considerable exertion, Adam managed to heave himself up from the ground, observing the crimson droplets staining the arena floor. His auditory senses had sustained catastrophic damage; he could barely discern any sound.

'Curse it!' The Silver Weaver ejaculated mentally as the obsidian threadlike construct disintegrated into streams of energy, forming two radiant arcs that enveloped Adam's ears, extending towards the nape of his neck.

"That's better…" Adam breathed out, his hand making contact with the ground.

His formidable weapon was lost, but at least he could regain his footing and confront his adversary.

Slowly, the deafening resonance of Zin's roar began to recede, signaling the arrival of the ultimate confrontation.

Cough! Cough! Cough!

A hacking cough, laced with blood, erupted. Zin clutched at his chest, a searing agony burning in his throat.

This was not an offensive maneuver he could employ frequently, unlike the less taxing clicks, claps, and finger flicks.

"Argh!!!" A final expulsion of blood spurted from Zin's maw as he finally felt a measure of relief, enabling him to draw a breath.

Adam's gaze flickered towards the emerald-hued chronometer. Merely twenty seconds remained before the cessation of all wagers.

"Wow… Did you witness that?" a man queried, lowering his hands from his ears.

"Yes," the woman adjacent to him responded, swallowing nervously. "That roar, it was utterly terrifying."

"He possessed such formidable power all along? And what's more… he hasn't even unleashed his Hollow Mark yet."

Gradually, a renewed sense of belief in Zin began to percolue through the assembled spectators.

However, no such assurance was reflected on Zin's own countenance. Despite the apparent success of his devastating attack, Adam remained standing, his aura exuding an even more menacing presence than before.

'Indeed,' one individual mused, nodding with profound conviction. 'They all place their faith in his strength, in his inevitable triumph. Yet, he himself harbors doubt. It is my duty to reignite that conviction within him!'

With these thoughts, Es'aha stood from her seat and lifted her arm skyward, capturing everyone's undivided attention.

Indeed, for a multitude of the monstrous beings present, her gesture held greater significance than the trivial displays of Garzo and Kaerno. Their actions stemmed from personal desires, whereas Es'aha acted upon righteousness, guided by her convictions.

Tremble.

A swirl of white energy coalesced above her, taking the form of thirteen cubes – mirroring the exact number Kaerno had wagered on Adam's triumph.

"I place a wager of thirteen land cubes on Zin's victory!"

The attendant simply inclined their head, inscribing Es'aha's name onto the roster.

"Merely fifteen seconds remain!"

"Blast it! Make haste! Accept my bet!"

Es'aha's gaze was fixed not on the attendant, nor on Leerna, the discerning judge, but solely upon Zin. Her stare was resolute and filled with unwavering confidence, her sole desire being Zin's win, and nothing else.

Kaerno, observing this scene unfold from a distance, could only muster a wry smirk.

"Hmph, she couldn't resist after all. Excellent, this shall surely heighten the intrigue. She might very well be the sole individual who truly wishes for Zin to prevail, and he needs to grasp that sentiment."

The subsequent fifteen seconds were a tumultuous torrent of betting requests, yet the attendants, well-prepared for such a surge, efficiently discharged their duties.

Click.

The emerald clock chimed five, coinciding with the resonant declaration from Leerna:

"Betting is now officially closed!"

Silence.

A moment of profound silence enveloped the arena as Zin, a faint smile gracing his lips, exhaled a heavy sigh.

"Thank you..." he murmured into the stillness, his words directed towards Es'aha.

Then, with a deliberate movement, his hand delved into his coat, retrieving a solitary, unadorned red apple, appearing remarkably fresh and vibrant.

"Let us continue, Adam Vinter."