World Domination System Chapter 337 Mage Handball Tournament Round 1 2

During the match between Lanthanor and Arafell.

"More women! If you want to win the Mage tournament, just keep 'em coming! And thanks to you, I've realized something…the unwilling ones are so fun! Haha! More!"

"Y-Yes, I'll make the arrangements…right away."

Walking out of the room in Olympia where so much innocent blood had already been spilled that it would chill any normal person, the Minister just stood in place, looking down at the ground.

He was a d.a.m.n decorated soldier! But now, he had been degraded into a kidnapper who abducted helpless women for the amus.e.m.e.nt of this man.

Initially, it had been prost.i.tutes, but they had closed their doors to him after finding out from those who came back that this man was very, very rough. Almost insanely so.

After that, he had had no choice but to resort to kidnapping those from the villages nearby. He hated it, but he had no choice as it was either their life or his.

Still, it was as if each such act attached a burden to his heart which was now making him look down with all that weight.

His fists were closed tight, and he shook with anger.

"Sucks, doesn't it? Being at the whim of someone more powerful than you."

With a start, the minister looked to both sides before finding someone looking at him from one end of the corridor.

The minister was someone who trained in both the Mage and Fighter paths, and he had always relied on his instincts to save his life on the battlefield.

Usually, as an Exalted Human Mage and an Amateur Human Fighter, he would be able to detect anyone who tried to enter a 100 meter radius around him.

However, this man was barely 10 meters from him, but he hadn't sensed a thing.

Clearly, he wasn't ordinary.

Having no mood to deal with another member of the Big 4, the minister was just about to shake his head and turn around and leave before the man spoke again.

"I felt the same way. That's why I became more powerful than anyone my age."

The tone in which these words were said made it feel like they were being said to the man himself, making the minister turn around and reply.

"Oh? How did that work out? Are you free now?"

Leaving behind the man who could only open his mouth and stay silent because he had no answer, the minister teleported away to do his 'duty'.

...

40-10

While the crowd went wild seeing the impenetrable defense of the Lanthanorian tanks, this was the score that was displayed at the 50-minute mark in the large central display.

If Lanthanor got the ball, they would make sure to score a goal, as no magic that could be cast in a short amount of time was enough to break through the metal box, even if 15 people tried to attack together.

However, there were a few instances where Arafell was able to retain control of the ball to make a goal.

They also had a strategy, but it couldn't even be called one when compared to what their enemy was deploying.

Whoever got the ball would first try to pa.s.s it to a wind mage, who would throw it in the air upward using a mini-tornado that he quickly conjured.

After that, someone specializing in using elementary particles to propel things forward would hit the ball so that it would pick up momentum towards the goal.

The rule was that the ball had to be in the hand of a team member in order for the team to score a goal.

Hence, at the goal point, 2 mages would be stationed to siphon the ball from the air using gravity magic.

Meanwhile, there were more who specializing in gravity magic whose job it was to keep the enemy team members at bay.

Finally, a few people who could quickly make barriers were a.s.signed as bulldozers who would try to re a.s.sert control over the ball in case Lanthanor succeeded in disrupting its aerial path.

This was how they got 6 points, but the last 4 were obtained in the last 10 minutes of the game because of a counter strategy that they had managed to create in the 50 minutes that they had had.

Even though Lanthanor's strategy seemed perfect, there was, indeed, one brute force method to destroy it.

It was simple: sacrifice a point to gain another.

While Lanthanor was busy racing to the other end with a perfectly formed tank, the Arafellians put up a token defense.

Meanwhile, their most talented mages would start to conjure complex spells like condensed fire bolts or larger tornados.

In the face of these attacks, the tank had no choice but to disperse, unless they wanted to be bogged down and attacked from all sides after being breached.

After the crowd saw this happen 4 times, they started to wonder whether Lanthanor was like a one-trick pony which was now done.

Inside the tank, Ca.s.sandra, who was standing in the center and making sure that everything was all right, had a smile on her face.

It felt SO good to use everything at their disposal for once to gain a victory that could otherwise have been very tough to obtain.

"Commander, orders? The crowd is already turning."

The one who spoke was her right hand man, and his tone had a slight trace of panic.

Each and every soldier inside had felt pride swell in their hearts on seeing the admiration in the crowd that had been born due to their perfect performance.

However, that was all disappearing now.

"I can't believe these people can be this dumb that they don't realize the obvious flaw in Arafell's 'counterplan'. Just move to Plan B."

"B-but you were the one who was so impa.s.sionate about gaining their support and said that they were intelligent enough to see talent…"

"That doesn't mean they have to have a brain! Just follow your orders, soldiers!"

As Ca.s.sandra snapped at the vice-commander and made the soldiers remember that she was called 'fire-brand commander' for a reason, everyone nodded and just continued to run forward.

This happened to be one of the points which Arafell was sacrificing, so the score changed to 41-10, but they were confident that they could get the next point.

As they were nearing the end of the match, it seemed that even the Arafellian commander had realized that it would be better to get the crowd on their side more instead of trying to get something that was impossible.

Hence, he had ordered the mages to pull out their trump cards.

A snake made of thunderbolts, an eagle made of fire, a tornado in the shape of a spear, a large icicle that looked like a screw and a large boulder which had a metallic surface.

The crowd 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed as they saw this incredible spectacle of magic that was seldom seen by normal people who didn't venture out to war.

These were the kinds of things that they had been hoping to see in the first place. So, finally having the chance to bear witness to magic like it was talked about in the stories, a feeling of contentment started to grow inside many which turned into even louder encouragement for Arafell.

With grins that had come on their face due to the thought that they had at least achieved something, the 5 mages aimed exactly at the spot the Lanthanorean tank would be in in the next second.

With an unseen signal, all 5 devastating spells were released, and their proximity made it so that the overall power even seemed to increase due to the chaotic interactions between elementary particles.

Just as everyone was thinking that the Lanthanoream team was done for, something peculiar happened which resulted in the dropping of hundreds of thousands of jaws.

The tank suddenly blinked out of existence, and the soldiers inside, who seemed to have already prepared themselves, were propelled forward 3 feet in the air.

The 15 soldiers were arranged in a circle, so different soldiers shot off in different directions.

However, the ones in the direction of the goal were the fastest.

BOOOOOM

With an explosive sound that seemed to shake the entire stadium itself, a ma.s.sive crater at least 10 feet deep was formed in the ground, as if a meteor had impacted the earth with its furious might.

While the stunned mages watched on, the soldiers who were shot forward in the goal's direction accelerated and pa.s.sed through the finish line, with one even waving at them lazily while flying in the air.

"42-10…wow."

Speechless, even Sylvesto only looked on, unable to find anything to say that wouldn't make him the hated enemy of Arafell for eternity.