The Legendary Old Man Becomes a Dungeon Streamer: When the World's Strongest Tried Streaming in His Second Life, He Instantly Went Viral and Gained S-Class Disciples. - Chapter 14

20 minutes into the battle royale.

The safe zone had shrunk further, forcing teams into closer proximity. We were now in an area dotted with cabins and trees. The canopy above blocked out most of the sunlight.

The only items we’d acquired so far were several smoke bombs slightly smaller than grenades. The smoke contained mana, supposedly effective against awakened opponents or so they claimed.

“But the smoke itself dissipates pretty quickly,” I noted.

“So we can only count on it for a short time,” Karin replied.

Still, these were valuable items for our team, which lacked long-range attacks. We’d likely need to use them at critical moments.

Visibility across the entire area was poor. We moved cautiously, suppressing our presence. The other teams were doing the same maintaining this stalemate until they could gain an advantage. Karin exhaled as she scanned our surroundings.

“Teacher, only nine teams remain. The situation isn’t great.”

“Why do you say that?”

“There are three teams near us right now, and they’re all pretty strong in battle. None of us can move. We’re on a collision course for mutual destruction.”

She could tell that much? Her detection skills were sharper than I expected.

“I couldn’t focus this well alone. Knowing you’re guarding my back lets me take the time to think things through.”

“That’s good. That’s what being a team is about.”

Karin’s analysis was mostly correct. Four teams, including ours, were in this area. Though we were all concealing our mana, none had completely erased their presence. A faint trace lingered just enough to say, “We’re here.” The reason? To avoid combat.

No matter how well you hide your mana, fighting inevitably reveals it. Even I can’t fight while maintaining perfect concealment. Mana inevitably leaks, alerting others.

The real problem would be getting dragged into sudden combat. In this situation, initiating battle first was disadvantageous. Win or lose, we’d be weakened and picked off by other teams, the classic “fisherman’s profit” scenario.

So it was crucial to announce our presence just enough without giving away too much information. Intimidation, deterrence call it what you will, but it was a vital element in battle royales.

“By the way, could you take them all on if they turned hostile?”

“I could win, but not while protecting you.”

Our prior agreement stated that if Karin was eliminated, I’d withdraw too. Whether enemy teams knew that was uncertain, but targeting me first would be pointless. Since Karin had more experience with this battle royale’s rules, she’d likely be their primary target.

“It’s about time to move.”

“Hmm, taking a detour would make the next phase brutal. We’ll have to force our way through.”

“Chances of success?”

“Well, call it a hunch, but the team deeper in feels off. Their mana response is weird, they’re not moving right.”

Oh? She noticed that too. The remaining three teams had roughly equal mana levels. The real contest lay in gathering additional intel to decide our next move.

“They’re just not moving. Staying crouched the whole time. The other teams are shifting positions, scouting their surroundings.”

“Since you’ve noticed that much, I’ll confirm it. You’re right that team is likely faking their mana levels.”

“Making it seem stronger? But I don’t remember any awakened with that ability.”

“Could be a new technique. Others are improving too, and with a 10-million prize at stake? It’s plausible they’d prepare something like this.”

“I see kept it secret until the last moment, huh?”

“There are specialized skills for exaggerating mana levels burning mana for intimidation, creating decoys.”

Karin closed her eyes, focusing. The faint ripples of her mana smoothed into a calm, probing presence.

Impressive depth of concentration.

Subtle gestures, breathing, intent.

Detecting mana was synonymous with understanding your opponent.

“I think it’s closer to a decoy. No signs of breathing or movement.”

“Yep, correct.”

“Whoa, concentrating this hard actually reveals that much?”

Karin nodded thoughtfully. In this era, mana detection wasn’t highly prioritized.

After all, drones could spot magical beasts, and specialized detection abilities existed.

Personal detection skills were a last resort.

But what if drones were destroyed? If you were stranded alone in a dungeon?

Your senses would be all you could rely on.

In that sense, honing mana detection was never a waste.

“Remember our morning training? The mana concentration exercises? It’s like sensing others’ mana is an extension of that focus.”

“Surprised you noticed. Exactly right. Awakened skilled at guarding their mana are usually skilled at detection too.”

“Figured as much explains why you’re so versatile.”

With a soft grunt, Karin stood up, her expression still sharp with focus. She must have settled on a plan.

“Full-speed dash, leap over the rear team, and head north into the safe zone.”

“Got it. What if enemy teams intercept?”

“Ignore them all. Don’t stop moving north until I say so.”

Once decided, she committed fully. Karin seemed the type to lead decisively, a natural commander. Clear orders and resolve could steer a team.

“Alright, sigh timing this right. Haaah!”

A forced breakthrough was undeniably high-risk. A poor route could draw attacks from all sides. But Karin’s liquefaction ability suited such maneuvers, it could negate certain ranged attacks.

“Are they seriously going for a brute-force approach?”

“That’s reckless even for them.”

“Safe play would be circling around.”

“But that rear team’s a decoy.”

“Other teams’ mana is depleted too. Might let them pass.”

“No benefit to fighting here. But would they realize that?”

“The legendary old-timer might see through it. Dude’s a detection monster.”

“Lmao, close-combat AND detection?”

“Dude senses stuff kilometers away. Absolute freak.”

Karin liquefied her body, leaning forward. The three teams ahead remained wary, each watching for the slightest movement, any sign of battle breaking out.

“Here we go.”

Karin inhaled sharply, then severed a nearby tree with her liquefied arm.

A deafening crash echoed through the area her signal flare. All attention snapped toward us.

But chaos created opportunity. The sudden disruption rattled the teams. Uncertainty froze them, what would happen next?

Karin didn’t waste that instant.

She surged forward at full speed. I followed right behind.

But Karin hadn’t yet detected it.

The movements deeper in, beyond this area, the other teams’ statuses.

Now, let’s see how this unfolds.