My Apocalypse System Awakened Five Years Early

She smiled at him, and he waved at her.

"Haha," an excited and amused laugh escaped his lips, and he moved to the armrest as he decided to stand up.

But before he could, she shook her head and gestured for him to wait.

’I have to wait more?’ He furrowed his brows and asked: "Why?" while moving his open palm sideways.

She pointed at her lips and worded the response, but he was unable to make out anything of it.

He frowned deeply as the referee walked over to her and guided her to the back of the stage.

Then the announcer’s voice returned, this time much more enthusiastic than before.

"Did you like the matches, my friends?"

"YES!" the crowd responded.

"Then let us begin the Semi-Finals with Amelia Mormon vs Natasha Woller!"

The crowd chanted Amelia and Natasha’s names at the top of their lungs.

On the other hand, Klaus wasn’t a little bit excited about the match because he already knew who was going to win.

And ten minutes later, his thoughts were proven right as Amelia stood with her arms raised to the sky and points twenty-five against five displayed on the screen behind her.

"Damn predictable," Klaus mumbled, completely disregarding the irony that Trina’s matches were also just as predictable, if not more.

Once Amelia and Natasha went to the back of the stage, the next match began.

"Let us now cheer for the match which will decide Amelia Mormon’s opponent — Trina Frost vs Sephila Dryn."

The crowd clapped as Trina and Sephila appeared on the stage, and with the referee’s whistle, the match began.

Sephila moved forward, but Trina was already waiting for her.

Sephila threw a roundhouse kick toward Trina’s ribs, and Trina stepped backward just enough for the kick to miss before immediately stepping back in and striking Sephila’s chest protector with a sharp front kick.

The referee awarded the point, and Trina returned to her stance without wasting a movement.

Sephila frowned, then circled to her left and launched another kick, but Trina followed her movement instead of allowing herself to be cornered.

Sephila attempted a second kick from the opposite angle; Trina ducked beneath it and answered with a fast roundhouse that struck the side of Sephila’s headgear.

Another point.

Klaus leaned slightly forward, his eyes following every movement.

’She’s not even letting her settle into the match.’

Sephila clenched her fists, then rushed forward with three consecutive kicks, and Trina blocked the first, avoided the second, and caught the third against her guard before shoving the leg aside.

Her movement changed from defensive to predatory in an instant, and she drove Sephila backward with a sequence of kicks that forced her opponent to keep retreating.

A front kick struck the chest protector, followed by a roundhouse to the torso, and then a turning kick landed cleanly against Sephila’s headgear.

The crowd roared as the scoreboard changed again.

Sephila tried to regain control, but Trina stayed on her.

She wasn’t mocking her opponent, nor did she show any excitement at the widening score. Instead, her eyes remained fixed on Sephila, and every movement she made seemed calculated to end the match as efficiently as possible.

Sephila threw another kick, and Trina easily slipped past it.

Sephila tried to retreat, but Trina cut her off, then Trina’s heel struck her chest protector with enough force to send her stumbling backward.

The referee called the point, and Sephila looked toward the scoreboard.

The difference was already enormous.

She took a breath, then rushed forward one last time, but Trina met her attack head-on and delivered a clean roundhouse to the torso before following with a controlled turning kick that stopped just after making contact with the protective headgear.

The referee immediately stepped between them and raised his hand.

"Winner, Trina Frost," he announced.

The scoreboard displayed the final result.

11 — 0

Another flawless victory.

Trina lowered her guard, bowed toward Sephila, and then turned toward the crowd.

Klaus smiled as their eyes met one more time.

’That was even easier than the first one.’

She gestured for him to wait.

Klaus sighed and leaned back into his chair.

"Fine," he mumbled, shaking his head as he settled down.

The announcer’s voice echoed throughout the stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our finalists!"

The crowd erupted.

"Amelia Mormon and Trina Frost will now compete for the prize of 25,000 dollars!"

Amelia walked onto the stage first, and unlike Natasha, she looked completely composed. Her black belt had a single golden star stitched onto it, marking her higher rank, and she calmly waited as Trina returned from the opposite side.

Klaus’s expression became more focused.

’This one should actually be interesting.’

The referee checked both fighters and then raised his hands.

Amelia and Trina lowered themselves into their stances.

The whistle cut through the silence of the stadium, and Amelia attacked first.

Her opening roundhouse was faster than anything Trina had faced in the previous matches, and Trina raised her guard just in time to block it.

She took a step back from the impact, and Amelia immediately followed with another kick, then another, and Trina was forced to genuinely defend for the first time that evening.

An impressed look appeared on Klaus’s face.

Trina suddenly shifted her weight, slipped beneath Amelia’s next kick, and drove a front kick into her chest.

The referee awarded the point, but Amelia didn’t retreat. Instead, she stepped forward again.

Their next exchange was far faster, with kicks colliding against guards and protective gear as neither fighter gave the other enough space to establish complete control.

Amelia landed a clean kick against Trina’s torso, but Trina answered almost immediately with a roundhouse to Amelia’s chest.

The scoreboard remained close.

For the first time, Trina couldn’t simply overwhelm her opponent.

Amelia’s footwork was disciplined, her timing was sharp, and her black-belt experience allowed her to recognize openings that Sephila and Drisha had missed.

However, Trina adapted.

She began moving with the same restrained ferocity Klaus had seen during their sparring sessions, and instead of chasing Amelia, she waited for her attacks and punished every opening.

Amelia kicked, and Trina stepped aside.

Amelia turned, and Trina attacked.

A roundhouse slammed into Amelia’s chest protector, and then Trina followed with a second kick before Amelia could completely recover.

The crowd erupted as Trina took the lead.

Amelia refused to slow down, however, and she launched another aggressive combination that forced Trina to step back.

Trina blocked the first kick, avoided the second, and narrowly escaped the third before stepping inside Amelia’s range.

Then her expression hardened.

She drove a powerful kick into Amelia’s torso, followed by a precise strike to the headgear.

Two points.

Amelia staggered backward, but she immediately regained her stance.

She attacked again; Trina moved like a beast springing from cover, and her counterattack landed cleanly against Amelia’s chest before another kick caught her headgear.

The referee blew his whistle, and the scoreboard changed.

Amelia and Trina lowered their guards for a moment, breathing heavily, and then raised them again.

A minute later, the final round began.

Amelia charged forward, determined to close the gap, but Trina redirected her first kick and stepped around the second before landing a final roundhouse against Amelia’s chest protector.

The whistle sounded, and the referee raised Trina’s arm.

"Winner and champion, Trina Frost!" The announcer shouted, and the crowd erupted into deafening cheers, the ground shaking.

Trina turned her head to the back and checked the scoreboard with a frown.

11 — 1