Chapter 100
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
You can buy coins here to unlock advanced chapters: https://gravitytales.com/coins-purchase-page/
Chapter 100: Formation vs. Squad
“Victory’s impossible.” Midi shook his head, stating this with absolute certainty.
True to his words, Fina recovered from her brief surprise and struck back with her own magic, instantly shattering Odel and Alyn’s final efforts.
The widely circulated Eagle’s Nest rumor about “Fina going berserk after three minutes” stemmed simply from her switching magic sources. Initially, she drew ambient magic from the arena for attacks. Once depleted, she’d resort to her own refined reserves—two vastly different qualities of magic producing entirely different effects.
This time, however, Odel’s team had abandoned defense for pure offense, draining the arena’s magic faster than usual and forcing Fina to use her personal reserves earlier. The battle ended swiftly as a result.
“One minute… nineteen seconds?” Odel gasped, kneeling on the arena floor as she checked the result. The Queen of Magic had promised victory if they lasted three minutes, yet they’d fallen short by half.
The Morning Star Mercenary Corps—and she herself—still had far to go. Her expression darkened. With such a public failure, even joining the Hawk Brigade felt pointless. Maybe she should leave quietly to train and grow stronger.
But as the half-Elf wallowed in defeat, the red-haired girl approached and offered a hand.
“Well fought,” Fina said warmly.
Well fought?
Odel almost mistook it for mockery—until scattered but steady applause echoed across the arena.
Fina’s smile, the crowd’s clapping, and the unshakable bond between Midi and the red-haired girl overwhelmed Odel with emotion.
“You forced me to exhaust the arena’s magic. That’s proof enough,” Fina explained. “No one here doubts your strength now. Just focus on earning contribution points.”
“We’ll work harder,” Odel replied, breath steadying as fiery resolve reignited in her eyes.
The road ahead stretched long, but meeting Midi and reaching Eagle’s Nest had already transformed her from a frog gazing at a tiny sky to a fledgling bird spreading its wings. She’d soar higher yet—until she caught up to Midi’s shadow.
With Morning Star’s trial concluded, Kelvin’s Mountain Wolf Mercenary Group took the stage. Their preparations dwarfed the first test, lasting over thirty minutes.
What followed was a clash of two hundred-man teams.
Mountain Wolf assembled ten elite squads—high-leveled, well-equipped, and battle-tested—under their level 40 magic scholar leader, Kelvin. Opposite them stood the Hawk Brigade’s true military force: a veteran elite guard of level 25 soldiers. These were Chief Knight Bartran’s seasoned warriors from the noble wars, rarely deployed. Yet here they stood, commanded not by Bartran but by Midi himself.
One side: the adventurer world’s finest formation fighters. The other: the genius commander Midi Asreks leading hardened elites.
Even prosperous Eagle’s Nest, rivaling Hertonmar, had never witnessed such a spectacle. Adventurers in the stands buzzed with anticipation, their battle-hungry spirits aflame before the first strike.
Only the betting pools remained uneasy—this unprecedented match defied all predictions.
"Midi will definitely win! That kid’s a real genius leading elite troops! I’m betting 100 contribution points!" An adventurer howled, slamming his wager down.
"Midi’s not even fighting—just commanding. And elite troops? Their average level’s 25. Mountain Wolf’s got high-level adventurers all above 30. It’s still anyone’s game," countered a calm voice amid the chaos.
"Numbers don’t mean squat! Look at that army’s aura—pure killing intent! I trust my gut," another argued wildly.
"Oh? How much’s that gut telling you to bet?" The bookie snapped.
"Uh… 10 contribution points," the voice shriveled.
The stands buzzed with frenzy, but Midi stood unfazed.
The black-haired boy climbed the command tower, radiating authority. Strong winds swept across the ground, kicking up sand and tousling his hair and clothes. For an instant, he seemed like a war god descending, crushing all beneath him.
"Don’t overthink. Just act like we’re taking down minotaurs or bandits," Midi said flatly.
"Yes, sir!" boomed the captain of the two hundred-man team—a towering paladin in heavy armor, eyes blazing.
Their casual exchange carried clearly to the stands… and to Mountain Wolf’s ears.
The mercenary corps erupted.
They’d fought beside Midi before, respecting his strength and talent. But comparing Mountain Wolf—a top-tier mercenary corps—to brainless minotaurs or spineless bandits? That lit a fuse.
Rage exploded through their ranks.
Yet on the opposing command tower, Kelvin hid a grateful smile.
Mountain Wolf had been tense—losing badly in this arena meant not just failing to join the Hawk Brigade, but becoming laughingstocks. Fear had shackled them.
Midi’s taunt burned those chains away. Now their fighting spirit roared hotter than any fear.
"All teams—charge!" Kelvin barked at the morale’s peak.
Midi swung his command flag. The black military formation spread like an iron wall, advancing relentlessly.
For the test, soldiers wore black robes over armor, wielding black batons. Mountain Wolf wore white.
Black and white tides crashed across the arena. Where they met, sparks flew.
The black army moved as one—flawless, unbreakable. The white mercenaries flowed like living waves, squads striking independently yet in sync, showcasing elite tactics.
Black and white clashed, neither yielding.
Midi watched coldly from above, analyzing not Mountain Wolf—he knew their battle strength from the Elven Kingdom campaigns. No, he studied the potential of an "adventurer army."
That’s why he’d borrowed Bartran’s elites.
Why he commanded personally.
Why he’d provoked them.
The Hawk Brigade’s final form must be a Legion of adventurers—scattering for ruins exploration and reconnaissance, then uniting as a single blade on the battlefield.
In his past life, the famously powerful Hawk Brigade rarely fought alone. Midi’s commander skills had grown fighting under other nations against the Delos Empire.
After Fina’s death brought the Brigade’s demise, they’d absorbed soldiers but lost their adventurer soul.
Even with reincarnation’s experience, building Fina’s vision meant trial and error.
This test mattered. Every lesson learned would strengthen the Hawk Brigade—to anchor the Belmar Duchy’s storms, and someday face the Delos Empire’s army.
True power grew drip by drip.
The warm-up ended. Time to crush them.
After ten minutes, Midi raised his flag.
One order: All-out assault.
The black formation’s aura detonated. Soldiers abandoned defense, charging with black batons falling as one—an unstoppable hammer.
The white tide shattered.
