Mecha combat is where the true beginning lies! The starry expanse was so deep it verged on black, yet visibility was absolute; every distant planet, every nebula, was strikingly clear.

The Sword-type mech from the Chushou team flashed by like a meteor, vanishing from sight in the blink of an eye. Next came the Fairy-type, piloted by Pei Zhe.

The Fairy-type mech was slender, just as its name suggested, but every spectator present had witnessed it dismantle numerous other mechs that looked like hardened steel brutes, so none dared to underestimate it. It clung tightly to the Sword-type’s tail, its projectile cannons spitting fire like the Grim Reaper’s scythe, striking opportunistically.

Many people began exiting at this point. They had assumed that after the five-minute rest, the Chushou pilot, Aix, would rally, but Aix was proving utterly disappointing!

Just as they reached the exit tunnel, preparing to step out the doorway, a tremendous BOOM suddenly echoed from behind them. They spun around in shock.

In that instant, they witnessed a scene of breathtaking splendor. The Sword-type’s turret launcher had, at some unseen moment, aimed squarely at the Fairy-type’s slender waist and unleashed a devastating blast that tore straight through it.

The railgun round detonated against the Fairy-type, exploding in a light more dazzling than fireworks! The Sword-type had finally revealed its true power.

Following that, the Sword-type moved as if wound up, its two magnetic railguns—one left, one right—firing like projectile cannons, heavy missiles spewing out like machine-gun fire towards the Fairy-type. Seeing this, the audience members could no longer move their feet; they didn't return to their seats but remained rooted to the spot, watching.

This wasn't a simulated battlefield; it was horrifyingly real. What the audience saw was achieved by employing interstellar technology to compress the visual range, allowing them to witness every minute detail of the fight as if watching a cinematic production.

The Fairy-type retaliated without yielding; its railguns and projectile cannons wove lines of cold, sharp, yet gorgeous light nets across the void, trailing the terror of death. This was a genuine struggle for life; no one dared to let their guard down for a second.

Pei Zhe’s nerves were stretched taut, his eyes locked unblinking onto the opponent’s mech on the control panel and its coordinates. His eyes were bloodshot, his eyeballs nearly bulging out.

BOOM! It was hit in the waist again!

The mech shuddered violently. Pei Zhe hurriedly maneuvered the mech to slide away, cushioning the impact.

"Shield integrity at 58.5 percent, armor integrity at 63.2 percent..." The automated diagnostic report from the light computer tightened the vice around his nerves. He felt he was too wound up.

That report, like a final prod after being stretched too tight, caused the string to snap with a TWANG. Pei Zhe collapsed completely.

All his power, all his conviction seemed to evaporate in that instant. The reason he had agreed to inject himself with the poison needle twice was for Illya’s victory.

But now, could he win? He felt he was about to give way.

His hands felt like they might lift off the control console at any moment; his entire body felt weightless, ungrounded. Illya...

Can I not even fulfill your single request? Pei Zhe grimaced in agony, drenched in sweat.

The number of hits sustained by the Fairy-type kept increasing. He didn't need to look to know that the beautiful, slender Fairy-type must now be riddled with holes, perhaps disfigured beyond recognition, like an old hag.

No! He absolutely could not disappoint Illya!

He absolutely could not give up at this moment! His opponent must be even more exhausted and crazed than him; perhaps they were already barely clinging to life!

He still held the advantage. Pei Zhe raised his head again, his gaze filled with steely resolve.

The effect of the poison needle hadn't worn off yet; he had to secure this battle in the few remaining minutes before the drug's efficacy ended! Pei Zhe weaved a Z-pattern toward the Sword-type, re-locking the target, cycling projectiles into the cannon, adjusting the turret launcher, and firing— Rat-a-tat-tat!

A chain volley of shells erupted, all slamming into the Sword-type. His speed was ruthless, quick, and precise.

After firing, the rising plume of thick smoke obscured his vision. In the haze, he couldn't see the Sword-type, and the Sword-type couldn't see him.

He felt a moment of almost foolish relief—surely the Sword-type was finished this time! But the sound of the mech exploding never came.

He snapped back to reality just as the light computer shrieked a sharp alert. The Sword-type suddenly materialized before him, like a massive eagle appearing out of nowhere, its two railgun muzzles leveled, BOOM-BOOM—two shots struck home.

The Fairy-type violently convulsed again. Its slender waist was ripped apart; Pei Zhe felt a searing pain shoot through his skull, as if it wasn't the Fairy’s waist that was crippled, but his own.

Pain! Pain so unbearable he wanted to writhe on the floor!

The painkiller's effect had actually worn off. A violent throbbing seized his head; Pei Zhe sucked in a sharp breath and began manipulating the controls frantically.

Even if he had to go to hell, he would drag the Sword-type’s pilot down with him! This fight had devolved into pure frenzy by the end.

Pei Zhe’s painkillers were gone, and so was his enhancement agent. But the pain drove him mad.

This time, he needed no enhancers; he just wanted to charge forward and tear away everything visible, tear it away, tear it all away! He even considered wrenching his own head off.

The spectators only saw two mechs firing madly; when the ammunition ran out, when the shields shattered, they simply threw aside their turret launchers and rushed in to grapple. The battle shifted from long-range to close-quarters brawling, as if everything in space had ceased to exist, leaving only two wills unwilling to yield.

The commentator explained from the stage: "This is human instinct. Mecha competition isn't just about combat skill; it's about the ability to design, build, modify, and maintain the mechs, and moreover, the ability to survive in hostile environments.

Undeniably, they are both masters. Even when the ammunition is spent and the shields are broken, as long as the pilot is alive, the fight continues." Her words were met with thunderous applause from the entire audience.

Many female spectators held up signs emblazoned with "Aix Bent" or "Chushou," chanting in unison: "Chushou must win, Chushou must win!" In naked combat, the Fairy-type was no match for the Chushou type. The Fairy-type’s waist was too slender; Aix had targeted it repeatedly as a weak point, nearly severing it.

The Sword-type was pure sword form, possessing no waist. After a few grappling exchanges, Aix seized an opportunity, slamming his entire mech down onto the Fairy-type, punch after punch after punch!

The Fairy-type countered with its own blows, refusing to concede. The two pilots exchanged blows aimed squarely at the other’s cockpit.

After nearly a dozen strikes, Aix exploited Pei Zhe’s focus on trading blows, failing to watch his periphery, and drove the Sword-type’s leg into the Fairy-type’s waist— CRACK! The Fairy-type split into two pieces in the void!

With its lower components gone, the Fairy-type was rendered completely inoperable. This battle had finally reached its conclusion, producing a victor.

The commentator declared, filled with fervor: "The 48th Mecha Grand Prix, the Kaga Championship Final..." The spectator stands erupted in deafening applause. Flowers, hats, and clothing flew into the air, creating a scene of intense emotion.

It wasn't just the students from Lingsi and Dongdian who were excited; it was also the numerous supporters of Chushou, the fans of Aix Bent, and even the headhunters from various major factions and legions. The members of the team embraced each other through tears and laughter.

They had won. Despite all the hardships and obstacles along the way, they had bravely fought to the very end, reaching the championship stage.

That battle was fought brilliantly! Li Chunyu looked deeply embarrassed, even shedding tears.

Ling Yin also felt the urge to cry, but she rubbed her nose and stubbornly forced her tears back; if her eyes hadn't turned so red, her emotions wouldn't have been betrayed. Aix laughed: "Alright, let's go bring Bent back quickly." Bobo blinked, "Bent?" Ziye shrugged at Aix and took the lead, walking forward.

The person sitting in the mech cockpit was not Aix, but Spente. From the moment Aix returned from the restroom, she had noticed they had switched clothes, though others apparently lacked eyes as sharp as hers.

The restroom was the only area without surveillance; no one knew the two had swapped garments there. When they emerged, everyone was focused on the damp clothes and the wet, slightly pale face washed with water, subconsciously overlooking the person themselves.

Of course, the two were indeed strikingly similar; if Ziye hadn't already known the difference and looked closely because something felt subtly off, she too might not have noticed. Pei Zhe truly had no grounds for complaint in losing this match.

His opponent was not one person, but Dongdian’s twin aces! Aix had endured the most difficult initial phase, and then Spente took over, battering Pei Zhe relentlessly.

As the saying goes, the devil may be powerful, but the Dao is stronger. If the Feifei team used illicit means to win their matches, the Chushou team was no easily bullied pushover.

The loser could only blame their inferior cultivation. However, after this battle concluded, neither the winner nor the loser emerged for the customary bow.

The live broadcast followed the mechs until they were teleported out of the arena. Seeing the mechs up close now, the audience felt a fresh wave of terror.

Not only were the shields gone, but the armor and sub-armor were completely shattered. The structure was down to only the final fifty percent; one more hit and it would have fragmented, covered in soot-black scorch marks from explosions.

Aix rushed forward. The mech cockpit door remained closed, and Spente, for some reason, was delayed in emerging.

Worried for his brother, Aix didn't hesitate and wrenched at the door with his hands. It felt as if it were burning; the heat seared Aix's hands painfully, but he ignored it, using both hands until he finally forced the door open.

Spente inside was already half-conscious. He dragged Spente out and held him tightly, and the tears he had been holding back finally streamed down.

Spente opened his eyes, his face deathly pale. "Why are you crying?" Aix pinched his cheek, then suddenly smiled again.

"No reason, I'm just laughing." Spente closed his eyes, the corners of his lips curving upward faintly. "Crying and laughing, like a cat wetting itself..." The remaining audience members saw this scene and, without consultation, erupted in another wave of applause.

Good brother, handsome guy, deep affection, strong bond. The young women covered their faces, all weeping with emotion.

They absolutely refused to admit they had just had a wildly divergent thought... The on-site host approached the two, about to begin the interview, when he noticed the skin on Aix's palm was severely scorched red.

He suddenly realized something, called for a professional to measure the temperature of the mech’s outer surface, and exclaimed in surprise: "The temperature on this cockpit door, right after the battle, reached 120 degrees Celsius. Of the twins, which one is the elder brother, and which one is the younger?" -RS