Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users - Chapter 41

41: The Match Begins And Ethan Lost!!??

Or Did He?

2 41: The Match Begins And Ethan Lost!!??

Or Did He?

2 But is that really what happened?

No.

Not even close.

Let’s go back to when Ethan released the mist at the start of the match.

The moment Lucas raised his hand, the mist that had covered the arena dropped like heavy rain.

Gravity filled the space like a crashing wave, pushing everything downward.

And for a second, it looked like Lucas had taken full control of the match.

From the audience’s view, the arena cleared up fast.

The white fog settled to the floor and then disappeared altogether, revealing the two figures inside.

Lucas stood confidently in the center, breathing hard, fists clenched.

His expression was fierce, ready to fight.

Ethan stood near the edge of the stage-completely still.

Unharmed.

Clean.

Untouched.

But no one paid attention to that detail yet, because Lucas moved first.

He roared and lunged forward.

Then… punched the air.

There was no one in front of him.

But that didn’t stop him.

With a twisted grin, he grabbed at empty space, twisted his arms like he was tossing someone through the air, then stomped down hard-on absolutely nothing.

Students in the audience blinked.

“What’s he doing?” “I don’t see anyone near him…” Lucas wasn’t slowing down.

He jumped to the side and drove his fist downward, like slamming someone into the ground.

Then he stood over nothing and raised his foot-hard-again and again.

His mouth moved nonstop.

“You seriously showed up with fog tricks?” he mocked the air.

“Pathetic!” Another punch.

Another kick.

Then he paused and shouted toward the stands: “This is what happens when weaklings think they belong at the top!” Then he turned and mimed, grabbing someone by the collar, yanking hard, and then slamming invisible weight into the ground.

But his hands held nothing.

Lucas didn’t stop there.

With a vicious yell, he threw the air toward the edge of the stage.

He ran after it-chasing a ghost-and stomped hard near the platform’s boundary, raising one hand dramatically like he was activating gravity again.

The floor cracked slightly under the force of his foot.

Then he pointed at the ground and sneered: “Crushed.

Just like that,” he muttered, venom dripping from his tone.

To the audience, it looked like he was reenacting a scene no one else had seen.

To him, it was a victory.

But to everyone else… it was madness.

Ethan hadn’t moved an inch.

He was still off to the side, hands in his pockets, watching.

His eyes followed Lucas with calm focus as if he were observing a wild animal that had gone off-script.

More whispers broke out in the stands.

“He’s… fighting the air?” “Why is he yelling like that?” “Is he okay?” From her seat, Everly slowly rose to her feet.

“That’s not normal,” she said.

Mr.

Halden narrowed his eyes, then stepped up to the railing of the instructor’s box.

“Ethan,” he called out.

“What’s going on?” Ethan finally looked toward him.

“He’s trapped,” Ethan said.

“Trapped?” Halden echoed.

“In what?” “In an illusion I created.” Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Some had suspected it.

Now, it was confirmed.

Lucas, still mid-fight, dove forward with a grunt and rolled.

He let out a victorious laugh and lifted both fists above his head.

Then he slammed them down.

Onto the stage floor.

There was no one there.

He looked up, sweating, smiling wildly.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve dreamt of this?” he laughed, eyes wide.

“This is the end!” The students were caught between awe and growing concern.

Ethan took a few slow steps forward so his voice would carry.

“When he used his gravity to drop the mist, he opened his mind for a second.

Just one second.

That’s all I needed.” He paused.

“I slipped the illusion in.” Mr.

Halden frowned.

“So… this is what he sees?” Ethan nodded.

“He thinks I’m on the ground.

Bleeding.

Crawling.

Losing, and he is winning.” Right on cue, Lucas kicked at empty air and laughed again, reenacting the moment when he had stomped on Ethan’s head.

His voice rose in twisted triumph: “How does it feel, Ethan?!

Being crushed under the weight of my power?!” He mimed, lifting a limp body and driving an uppercut into the air, his face flushed with fury.

“Is that all?” Lucas mocked.

“What a disappointment!” From the outside, it looked ridiculous.

Like he was shadowboxing a ghost.

But to him, he was dominating.

Destroying.

Winning.

Mr.

Halden looked uneasy.

“Can you stop it?” Ethan hesitated.

Then, he shook his head.

“Not yet.

I gave the illusion a bit too much power… so now I can’t pull him out.

I have to wait until his mind breaks the loop.” “How long will that take?” Ethan exhaled.

“Either he gets tired and passes out… or realizes something’s wrong.

Whichever comes first.” Lucas was now standing in the corner of the stage, yelling at the barrier.

“Beg me!

Go on-beg me!” he said to nothing, then pulled at his own sleeve like dragging someone closer.

He swung again.

Again.

Again.

But no blood flew.

No reaction came.

Just him.

And the silence that followed.

There was something unsettling about it now.

At first, it was confusing… then funny… Now, it felt heavy.

Like watching someone trapped in a nightmare, they couldn’t wake up from.

“How deep is he in it?” one student whispered.

Ethan answered without looking.

“Deep enough that he doesn’t hear you.

Doesn’t see me.

Doesn’t see anything real.” Lucas growled and tackled the stage barrier as if pinning someone there.

Ethan calmly added, “Even the arena… it’s all in his head now.” Mr.

Halden clenched his jaw.

“Then how do we know he’ll stop?” A moment of silence hung over the arena.

Then Ethan spoke.

“Once he’s tired enough, his brain should slow down enough to realize none of this is real.

Then the illusion will break on its own.” “And if it doesn’t?” Ethan shrugged slightly.

“Then he’ll pass out.

That’ll do it, too.” Mr.

Halden rubbed his temples.

“So even if I end the match now…” Ethan nodded.

“He won’t know it.” Lucas, still caught in his own fantasy, threw one last punch at the air-then raised his hands high as if he’d finally won.

He stood tall, his mouth curling into a smug grin, basking in imaginary applause.

The crowd stared, silent.

**** Hey everyone, Author here, I hope you are enjoying the novel till now.

You see, this chapter is something I had always wanted to do but never got the chance to do, but now I have, and I just want some feedback on how it is.

I want to ask this because I want to see if you like this or not, which can let me know if I can use this kind of style in some of the future fights.

And if you find any mistakes or another, better way to write something similar, then let me know.

Thanks  Author.

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