Chapter 787  Migahty Entrance


    While Aron was still processing the abrupt announcement, Nova seized the opportunity to provide a potential explanation.


    {My theory is this: mental attacks function like inserting a conduit or a pipe between the caster and the target. If the target’s mental defenses are stronger than the attack can penetrate, the attack rebounds. The returning force matches the strength of the target''s mental defenses. Given the system’s unknown yet undoubtedly superior level, it’s likely that the Zelvora fighter’s brain was effectively turned into mush from the backlash.}


    Aron listened attentively as Nova continued her analysis.


    {This situation would have been even more dangerous for the Zelvora because the attack initially succeeded before the system activated its defense. The connection was at its strongest when the system canceled the attack, meaning the Zelvora’s mental defenses were completely unprepared for the rebound’s intensity. And due to the connection, he was at his weakest when the backlash hit.}


    To emphasize her point, Nova displayed slowed footage from the Zelvora fighter’s perspective.


    The clip showed the Zelvora mid-smile, triumph radiating from his expression. But before the grin fully formed, blood began streaming from his facial orifices. In an instant, his body collapsed, lifeless, while his face remained frozen in an eerie semblance of joy.


    "He died while he was at his happiest," Aron muttered, exhaling a sigh of relief. The fight had ended far sooner than he anticipated, sparing him from the need to face the Zelvora fighter''s full arsenal of mental abilities.


    As soon as the rest period ended, the AI referee promptly called for the next contender to enter the arena. Before the protective shield could even open, the space a few kilometers from where Aron stood began to fracture visibly. The cracks spread like a web, accompanied by a sharp, resonating sound akin to glass shattering.


    At the center of the fractures, a hand emerged, prying the cracks apart as if they were a physical barrier. Slowly and deliberately, the figure stepped through what appeared to be a spatial doorway, the shimmering edges of the rift radiating an otherworldly glow. The Trinarian fighter entered the Colosseum with an air of dominance, the manner of his arrival exuding both power and control.


    The cracks behind the fighter vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving no trace of their existence. The shattered remnants of space sealed themselves seamlessly, restoring the area to its original state as though the phenomenon had never occurred.


    The only evidence that something extraordinary had transpired was the presence of a new figure, now standing a short distance away from the spot where the spatial disturbance had unfolded. The Trinarian fighter remained still, his imposing form radiating an air of calm confidence, as if his dramatic arrival had been an everyday occurrence.


    Throughout this entire ordeal, the Trinarian fighter''s eyes remained fixed on Aron, unwavering and unyielding. From the moment he stepped through the spatial rift, his gaze locked onto Aron and never strayed—not for a second.


    It was as though Aron had become the sole point of focus in his world, a target of absolute attention. The intensity of his stare carried an unsettling weight, as if he were silently conveying both challenge and certainty.


    Aron, in turn, met the Trinarian fighter''s gaze with calm resolve, unshaken by the pressure but fully aware of what was at stake. The technology in the hands of the Trinarian civilization was crucial to his plans moving forward, making this one of, if not the most important fight he had yet to face. He knew that securing a victory here would provide him with the means to advance his ambitions but the fight was also shaping up to be one of the most difficult battles in the entire war.