L slowly released his grip, and his sword began to float freely in the air.

The weapon was entirely coated in brilliant silver light. It pointed horizontally toward Alen, hovering ominously.

[Luminous Ascension Art: StarFall - Thousand Sword Strike!]

A piercing glow emitted from the blade as thousands of ethereal swords, made of pure silver light, manifested alongside the original floating weapon.

Slowly, the main sword flew back into L’s hand. He looked at Alen with an entirely emotionless face, and then swung the blade down in a swift vertical slice!

All thousands of the manifested swords launched toward Alen with incredible speed. It was so fast that it didn’t even look like they were moving; it looked like they were teleporting directly to their target.

Alen looked at the incoming barrage with wide eyes. Realizing he couldn’t dodge, he quickly coated his entire body in the densest layer of defensive mana he could muster.

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*

A deafening explosion struck the battlefield. Debris flew everywhere, slamming violently into the magical barrier protecting the audience. The impact was so severe that spiderweb cracks actually began to form along the shield.

The entire arena shook violently like an earthquake as blinding silver light engulfed the field.

The audience gasped in terror. The sheer air pressure whipping around the arena blew their hair back, and some of the spectators standing too close to the front railings were actually knocked off their feet.

The whole stadium was in absolute chaos. As time slowly passed, the shaking finally came to a stop, and the blinding light began to dim.

As the thick cloud of dust slowly cleared, a figure was revealed in the center of the ruined battlefield.

It was Alen. He was leaning heavily on his sword, using it as a crutch to keep himself from collapsing. His clothes were torn, and blood covered his body as numerous cuts and wounds became visible. But he was still standing. He refused to lose that easily.

Alen looked at L through half-open eyes, the blood flowing from his forehead distorting his vision.

Suddenly, L vanished from his position and appeared directly beside him.

This time, Alen was actually able to track his movement. But he didn’t have a single ounce of strength left to defend himself. The cold steel of L’s sword came to a gentle rest against Alen’s neck.

The entire arena fell into a pin-drop silence as the battle finally came to an end.

Alen stared down at the sword resting against his throat.

<Ah... So it seems we have finally found our winner!>

<The Champion of this year’s Tournament of the Young Generation is... L!>

"Sigh... You won," Alen muttered, dropping his guard.

L smirked.

"Of course I did. Did you really think I would lose to someone like you? Hehe..."

L playfully patted Alen on the back.

However, Alen was already at his absolute physical limit. The light tap threw off his balance, and he fell forward.

"Hey, hey! Wait—"

L quickly reached out and caught Alen by the arm before he could hit the dirt.

"Are you alright?"

L asked, his teasing tone dropping for a moment.

*Sigh...*

Alen gently pushed himself out of L’s grip and stood up on his own, looking at the cloaked boy with a confident, unwavering gaze.

"I lost this time..."

"But next time, you will be the one standing in my place."

L chuckled.

"Oh! Is that so? Let’s bet on it next time, then!"

Alen just shook his head with a faint smile. He turned around and started to leave the stadium.

As he walked away, L called out to him from behind.

"See you next time, Alen."

Alen didn’t look back. He raised a hand in acknowledgement and limped away into the dark corridor, heading straight for the official Healers the tournament organizers had provided for the participants.

...

Back on the arena grounds, after Alen left, the deafening silence erupted into a massive roar of cheers that shook the stadium walls. The chaotic enthusiasm of the audience echoed endlessly as they celebrated the new champion.

L stood calmly in the center of the ruined battlefield, waiting to receive his reward.

<Now that we finally have our winner, I request Mr. Hydro-Man... ah, I mean Mr. Kalos Seinhart, to come down to the field to present the grand prize!>

Up in the VIP section, the handsome man in the luxury suit slowly stood up. He walked out of the VIP booth and casually stepped right off the high balcony. He floated down toward the arena floor, maintaining perfect balance with his water mana to ensure his descent looked as majestic and effortless as possible.

The audience cheered wildly for the hero’s entrance. Half the people in the stadium had only bought tickets just to see him. They all looked incredibly excited, and many cast jealous glances at L.

Kalos slowly walked toward L with calm, measured steps, waving graciously to the screaming crowds.

He pulled a small, beautifully wrapped gift box from his storage ring. Inside the box was another storage ring containing millions of gold coins.

Kalos puffed out his chest, wearing a picture-perfect, charismatic smile as he looked down at the cloaked boy in front of him.

"Hey, kid. Congratulations on becoming the Champion of the tournament,"

Kalos said smoothly, making sure his voice carried a tone of great mentorship.

"I guess you’ll be the one to follow in my footsteps and become the next ’me’."

He let out a practiced, hearty laugh.

"I didn’t expect the younger generation to idolize me so much that they would fight with everything they had just to get a chance to meet me! Hahahaha!"

He extended the box generously.

"Take this, kid. You’ve earned it."

L looked at him blankly from beneath his hood.

He roughly snatched the box right out of Kalos’s hand.

"Scumbag..." L muttered coldly, his voice dripping with pure disdain.

"Who would ever want to become someone like you? I just came here for the money."

Without waiting for a response, L turned around and started walking away.

The entire stadium fell dead silent.

The crowd had expected the boy to beg for a handshake or an autograph—that was supposed to be the greatest honor of the tournament! But the boy was just walking away as if the great Hero of Vale City didn’t even matter.

Kalos stared blankly at the boy’s retreating back, his face frozen in bewilderment. Because of his Awakened senses, he had heard every single word the boy muttered.

Kalos looked out at the crowd. He could hear them whispering confusedly among themselves. He looked down at his empty hand.

’Wait... what the hell just happened?!’ Kalos thought to himself, his mind reeling.

There was no one else on the field except him. This was the very first time in his entire life that someone had so blatantly ignored and disrespected him. He was used to being the absolute center of attention and adoration. But this little brat had dared to insult him in front of the whole city!

’You will regret getting on my bad side, you little bastard,’ Kalos thought, his eyes narrowing with a dark, venomous fury.

’I am going to make you kneel in front of me and beg for mercy for offending me...’

Suppressing his boiling rage, Kalos looked back out at the crowd. He expertly slipped his ’Fake Hero’ mask back onto his face and waved his hand with a bright, charming smile.

"Everyone, it is wonderful seeing you all! I hope you enjoyed today’s tournament. Let’s meet again next time!"

Keeping his charismatic smile plastered on his face, Kalos imbued a large amount of mana into his legs. He leaped powerfully from the field, flying directly back up to the high balcony, and quickly disappeared into the dark VIP corridor before anyone could see the furious scowl returning to his face.

...

Author’s POV:

Originally, L had absolutely no interest in getting an autograph from the so-called ’Hero’ of Vale City. His only goal was to secure the massive cash prize he needed—just like Alen. Now that he had the money in his hands, his ’purpose’ was completely fulfilled.

Whatever that ’scumbag’ said or thought behind his back didn’t matter to him in the slightest. He had won the tournament fairly, and that was the only thing he cared about.

If the ’Hero’ of the city was truly willing to plot petty revenge against a young teenager over a bruised ego, then he didn’t deserve the title in the first place.

A ’true’ hero is someone who remains kind and composed, no matter the situation. They don’t let their pride get shattered by petty insults. They carry an aura of majesty and selflessness that separates them from normal people.

A person worthy of being called a hero shouldn’t just have a pure heart; they must also possess the emotional intelligence and humility to not get frustrated over a minor slight. True heroism is about protecting others, not protecting one’s own vanity.

Mr. Kalos Seinhart had acted completely opposite to the true definition of a hero.