Chương 198: Chapter : 198

The morning sun crept through the tall windows of the 13th Unit estate, casting long golden rectangles across the polished wooden floor of the living room. It was the kind of peaceful, quiet morning that Ken Eliot loved more than anything in the world. The kind where you could just lie on the couch, close your eyes, and let your mind drift away like a leaf on a slow river. Unfortunately for Ken, this was not going to be that kind of morning. Every single person in the 13th Unit was crammed into the living room.

Princess Iris sat in the armchair near the window, her silver-moonlight hair tied in its usual messy ponytail, dark circles under her sharp green eyes. Naomi stood behind the couch with her arms crossed, her red ponytail swishing behind her like an angry cat's tail. Sayma sat perfectly straight in the corner, pushing her glasses up every few seconds as she took notes on the television coverage. Laxmi was on the floor, grinning like a maniac, her fists crackling with tiny sparks of excitement.

Zinia leaned against the wall near the door, her muscular arms folded, nodding approvingly at the screen. Luna was half-asleep on the carpet, using a cushion as a pillow. Ira stood like a statue near the bookshelf, her face completely blank. And Risa, sweet little Risa, sat cross-legged on the floor right in front of the screen, hugging her stuffed teddy bear, her bright green eyes wide with wonder. The magical television was glowing bright, tuned to the Imperial Sports Network.

The anchor, a man with a ridiculously perfect smile and a voice that could sell sand in a desert, was practically shouting with excitement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are STILL talking about last night's absolutely historic Tower Defense match! The 13th Princess Iris Belmontia and her 13th Unit have achieved something that has never been done in the history of the Succession War tournament. A flawless, perfect shutout victory against the 15th Prince Hades Belmontia! Not a single point scored against them! Not one!"

The screen cut to a replay showing Princess Iris standing tall at the command position, her angelic avatar glowing behind her like a divine shield. The anchor narrated over the footage.

"Princess Iris's leadership was nothing short of brilliant. Her positioning, her timing, her calm under pressure, everything was perfect. She is truly a commander worthy of the Belmontia name." Iris sipped her tea quietly, not reacting to the praise. She had seen the real battle. She knew it was not just her leadership that won the day. The broadcast switched to another clip, showing Naomi zipping across the battlefield like a red blur.

Her twin daggers flashed in the stadium lights as she dismantled enemy formations with surgical precision.

"And let us not forget the incredible Naomi!" the anchor continued.

"Her wind-enhanced speed was absolutely devastating. Enemy soldiers could not even react before she was already behind them!" This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Naomi smirked just a little, flicking a strand of red hair behind her ear. But she did not puff up with pride. Instead, she glanced down at Ken, and her expression softened. The broadcast was about to get to the real star of the show, and she already knew who it was going to be.

"But the real story of the night," the anchor said, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper, "the story that has the entire Empire talking, is about a young man who most of you had never even heard of before yesterday. I am talking, of course, about the 13th Unit's servant, Ken Eliot!" The screen exploded with a montage of Ken's highlights. There he was, firing his tiny cyan-colored mana bullets from a rusty old tower. The bullets were so small they looked almost harmless, like little glowing blue peas.

But every time one of those tiny projectiles hit an enemy soldier, the result was spectacular. The targets appeared backward as if they had been hit by a giant invisible hammer, or the just simply teleported. The anchors had taken to calling the effect "Knockback," and they were absolutely obsessed with it. The replay showed a particularly hilarious moment. One of Prince Hades's elite vanguard soldiers, a huge armored knight carrying a massive shield, charged forward with full confidence.

Ken's tiny cyan bullet hit him square in the chest. The knight flew backward so hard and so fast that he looked like a ragdoll thrown by an angry child. He sailed through the air, arms and legs flailing, and crashed into three of his teammates behind him, knocking them all down like bowling pins.

"The Knockback!" the anchor shouted excitedly.

"Look at the distance on that Knockback! Our analysts estimate that the 15th Prince's elite vanguard was sent flying an average of twelve meters per hit! From a bullet the size of a marble! How does that even work?!" The broadcast showed another slow-motion replay. This time, Ken was dodging an attack by simply leaning to the side, looking like a bored office worker avoiding a falling folder. Then he casually fired another cyan bullet, sending another servant tumbling.

The anchors replayed this clip four times, each time zooming in on Ken's face, which looked completely uninterested, like he was thinking about what to eat for lunch.

"This man is an enigma!" a second anchor chimed in.

"He looks like he just rolled out of bed. His shirt is untucked. His stance is terrible. He doesn't even seem to be trying! And yet, his magic is incredibly effective. Ken Eliot is officially the biggest celebrity in the capital today!" Ken, who was currently slouched so deeply into the couch that he looked like he was slowly being swallowed by the cushions, let out a groan that sounded like a dying whale. He had his pinky finger stuck in his ear, lazily cleaning it with absolutely zero shame.

His other hand dangled off the side of the couch, barely holding onto a half-eaten bag of potato chips.

"This is a total disaster," Ken complained loudly to the room. His voice was muffled because his face was half-buried in a cushion.

"I am on television. Again. Why can't they just talk about Iris? Or Naomi? Why does it have to be me?" No one answered him right away. The broadcast had moved on to a panel of so-called experts arguing about the physics of the Knockback effect. One expert insisted Ken must be using advanced spatial compression magic. Another thought it was pure kinetic force manipulation. A third simply threw his hands in the air and admitted he had no idea, but that it was "absolutely the most entertaining thing he had ever seen."