Idle Tycoon System

Noah's aim reached beyond this clash. He wanted Kenzo broken in a way that no recovery could fix. Defeat was temporary, but humiliation planted roots. If Kenzo's fragile pride shattered here, the pieces would turn inward, gnawing at him long after the bruises faded.

Noah intended to make sure of it. He had seen the cracks already: the restless eyes, the sudden bursts of mania, the desperate need for validation. Kenzo carried an inner demon, a vicious thing that thrived on fear of inadequacy. If that demon awoke, it would devour him from within, choking any future resolve before it could rise.

So Noah held back his killing intent and instead carved away at Kenzo's confidence slowly.

When Kenzo's first strike came, a powerful high strike aimed at Noah's shoulders, Noah simply swayed with minimal movement, allowing the sword to pass harmlessly inches from his body. The dodge looked almost casual, as if he had merely shifted his weight to get comfortable rather than avoiding a potentially devastating blow.

"Did you see that?" someone in the crowd whispered with amazement. "He barely moved but completely avoided the attack of Kenzo!"

Kenzo followed up with a rapid combination of sword strikes, each technique executed with the precision and power that had carried him through the tournament. His blade work displayed the masterful swordsmanship that had made him a favorite to win, flowing from high cuts to low slashes with seamless transitions. But Noah continued his demonstration of superiority, deflecting each attack with minimal sword movements that appeared almost effortless.

When simple deflections became repetitive, Noah began allowing Kenzo's dull blade to make direct contact with his body and limbs. But instead of the expected bruising and impact damage that tournament swords typically inflicted, Noah absorbed each strike without showing any sign of injury or discomfort. His incredibly high vitality and strong constitution made him virtually immune to these weapon impacts, regardless of their technical execution or force.

It would be an embarrassment if somebody like Kenzo could hurt his body, despite being an adept rank awakener, even if his vitality wasn't at the adept rank but only at the apprentice rank.

"He's not even trying to defend himself!" Yamamoto observed with growing amazement from near the judges' section.

"But those blade strikes aren't affecting him at all," Yamamoto continued, his brow furrowed. "He is nothing like the boy I first saw at Tanaka's dojo. Was this strength hidden all along, or… has he grown this much in such a short time?"

The second possibility sent a chill along Yamamoto's spine. Improvement of this scale defied logic. To rise so high, so fast, was not just rare—it was dangerous. He had seen countless prodigies in his years of experience, but Noah's ascent eclipsed them all.

Kenzo was no mere opponent. He carried the weight of a champion, someone worthy of facing past victors. And yet, here he was, made to look powerless. The thought lodged in Yamamoto's chest like a blade of its own: if Noah could do this now, what heights would he reach tomorrow?

The crowd began to murmur with confusion and excitement as they watched Noah stand motionless while Kenzo's most powerful sword techniques failed to produce any visible effect. Strikes that should have left welts and bruises on any normal fighter seemed to bounce off Noah's body like the dull blade was made of foam rather than steel.

Kenzo grew more embarrassed as he hit Noah's body, yet it held no results. His brain switched, and his killing intent rose. He switched stances and aimed at Noah's neck. He didn't believe that Noah's neck was invulnerable.

When the attack approached his neck, Noah decided to finally move his sword as if swatting a fly to block the attack. Noah hadn't blocked the attack because it was dangerous, but he had blocked it because it was too bait. Being attacked in such a weak spot and remaining undamaged, it would raise many questions he wasn't ready to answer, nor did he want to answer.

Clang!

Seeing Noah defend for the first time in a while, a smirk formed on Kenzo's face as if he were a victor. "Not so invincible after all, huh?"

After the exchange, Kenzo had found the spot he was going to attack. The neck. He didn't care if Noah died, was paralysed or whatever. As long as he won, that's all that mattered to him.

"What kind of conditioning does he have?" someone called out from the spectator stands. "Those are championship-level sword strikes, but he's not even flinching when they connect!"

Tanaka watched with fascination and growing understanding of just how much his former student had advanced beyond conventional martial arts limitations. The enlightenment he had experienced earlier gave him deeper insight into the incredible nature of what he was witnessing.

When Noah grew tired of demonstrating his defensive capabilities, he began parrying Kenzo's sword attacks without moving his feet at all. His blade intercepted strikes with perfect timing and positioning, but his lower body remained planted as if rooted to the platform floor.

Each parry was executed with such accuracy that Kenzo's blade momentum was completely redirected without Noah having to give ground or adjust his stance. The technical mastery required for such stationary swordplay was beyond anything the spectators had ever witnessed in competitive martial arts.

"This is impossible," one of the eliminated competitors muttered from the audience. "I've never seen anyone who can parry attacks like that without adjusting their footwork. The leverage doesn't work!"

"Look at his stance—completely static," another fighter observed with awe. "He's defending against championship-level swordplay without taking a single step in any direction. He was hiding his strength all along...he is not a normal competitor, he is a master!"

The demonstration continued for several minutes as Noah completely dismantled every assumption the audience had about competitive swordsmanship. He had transformed what should have been an evenly matched finale into a one-sided exhibition that showcased blade work far beyond normal champions.

Kenzo's sword attacks became increasingly desperate as he realised nothing he attempted was producing any effect on his opponent. The psychological pressure of fighting someone who seemed completely immune to weapon damage while remaining casually relaxed was breaking down his mental composure, along with his technical skill.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as they witnessed what appeared to be a normal swordsman demonstrating abilities that defied everything they understood about human physical limitations and competitive blade combat dynamics.

"Are you done?" Noah asked as he continued parrying attacks without moving his gaze from Kenzo, nor his bodyfrom its place.

Clang!

Kenzo didn't respond, still continuing his attacks.

"Alright then...my turn now."