The moment Daniel and Vladimir stepped down from the battlefield, the atmosphere of the arena reached its peak.
This was the final battle of the fourth round.
A clash between two candidates who had already proven themselves among the greatest monsters of their generation.
On one side stood Mark.
The candidate of the Celestial Light Body.
The fastest existence among all the remaining candidates.
A warrior whose body had transcended ordinary movement and entered the realm of pure light itself. His speed was so great that even many of the strongest spectators could not fully follow his actions.
On the other side stood KASHMIR
The candidate of the Shadow Body.
The sovereign of a dark world filled with countless shadow warriors under his command. His shadows were not merely weapons. They were extensions of his perception, his army, and his domain. Within darkness, Kashmir was almost impossible to predict.
Unlike many previous battles, neither possessed an obvious advantage.
Light was naturally the enemy of darkness.
But shadows were also created because light existed.
Their powers were connected in a profound way.
The judge looked at both warriors.
"Begin."
The moment the command was given—
Mark vanished.
No movement.
No preparation.
No warning.
A blade of condensed light appeared directly in front of Kashmir's neck.
However, before it could strike, a black shadow emerged from beneath Kashmir's feet.
A shadow warrior raised its sword and intercepted the attack.
The collision created a shockwave that shattered the battlefield beneath them.
The spectators' eyes widened.
The shadow warrior had blocked an attack that most candidates would not even have perceived.
But Mark showed no surprise.
He already knew this would not be enough.
He became a stream of golden light.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Tens of thousands of afterimages filled the battlefield.
Every one of them attacked.
Every one of them seemed real.
The sky itself became a storm of light.
Kashmir remained motionless at the center of his dark domain.
The shadows beneath him expanded like an endless ocean.
From it emerged countless warriors.
Swordsmen.
Archers.
Spearmen.
Beasts made entirely of darkness.
They launched themselves toward the incoming lights.
An unimaginable war erupted.
Golden flashes collided with black silhouettes.
Each time Mark destroyed a shadow, another one emerged.
Each time a shadow warrior was born, Mark destroyed dozens more.
For ordinary observers, the battle was impossible to understand.
They could only see an ocean of darkness being repeatedly pierced by countless rays of light.
Kashmir narrowed his eyes.
This was the exact problem he expected.
His shadows could delay Mark.
They could observe him.
They could force him to spend energy.
But they could never truly catch him.
His speed was simply too overwhelming.
Then, he made his decision.
The entire shadow world collapsed.
Every soldier.
Every weapon.
Every piece of darkness.
Everything returned to a single point.
The spectators immediately became serious.
They had seen this before.
The same technique that had barely survived Javier's ultimate sword.
The complete manifestation of Kashmir's Shadow World.
A black sword appeared in his hand.
Not a weapon created from ordinary darkness.
It was his entire domain compressed into a single object.
A blade containing the power of countless shadows.
At that moment, Mark appeared behind him.
The sword of light descended.
Kashmir turned.
The two blades collided.
The entire arena became silent.
No explosion occurred.
No wave of destruction spread.
Only a single moment of absolute confrontation between two concepts.
Light.
Darkness.
Speed.
Endurance.
The two warriors looked into each other's eyes.
Then—
Mark disappeared.
And appeared again.
And again.
And again.
Thousands of attacks struck Kashmir from every direction.
For the first time in the battle, Kashmir moved backward.
His shadow sword blocked every attack, but the pressure was increasing.
His arms trembled.
His breathing became heavier.
"Impressive," Kashmir admitted.
"But I have not lost yet."
His shadow expanded beneath Mark.
Unlike his previous attempts, this shadow did not attack.
It did not capture.
It simply followed.
No matter where Mark moved, it appeared beneath him.
The audience understood the danger immediately.
Kashmir was learning.
He was using his domain as a reference point to predict the movement of light itself.
For the first time—
Mark was forced to slow down.
A shadow chain shot upward.
Then another.
Then thousands more.
The chains covered every possible direction.
Mark escaped the first.
The second.
The hundredth.
But the number increased endlessly.
Kashmir smiled.
"You cannot outrun a world that follows you."
For a brief moment, the chains touched Mark's leg.
The entire arena held its breath.
Then light exploded.
Not a technique.
Not an attack.
Mark simply abandoned all limitations.
His body transformed completely into a being of pure celestial light.
For a brief instant, the concept of movement itself seemed meaningless.
The chains broke.
The shadows dispersed.
Kashmir's eyes widened.
He could not track him anymore.
Not even his shadows could.
A moment later, Mark appeared in front of him.
A single strike.
Simple.
Perfect.
A sword made of the purest light stopped directly against Kashmir's forehead.
Kashmir's sword was still raised.
His defense was intact.
But he knew the truth.
He had reacted too late.
If this had been a battle to the death, his head would have been severed before his shadow could respond.
Silence filled the arena.
Then Kashmir slowly lowered his blade.
"I concede."
The judge nodded.
"The winner: Mark."
The audience erupted into applause.
The final battle of the fourth round had ended.
Kashmir had demonstrated a terrifying level of adaptability, nearly creating a method to trap the fastest candidate in the tournament.
But Mark had proven why he was feared by all.
There were strategies that could predict speed.
There were techniques that could counter movement.
But when speed reached the point where even perception failed—
there was no defense left.
The ten greatest candidates stood once more in the arena.
Their battles had revealed their strengths.
Their weaknesses.
Their paths.
The rankings of the fourth round had been decided, and the final stage of preparation before obtaining the recognition of their physiques was approaching.
The next phase would not be about defeating an enemy.
It would be about facing the very origin of their own existence.
And among all those candidates—
only those who could truly understand their physiques would reach the final truth.