"I see..." she said, her voice calm but asured. "You don’t look like you’re lying, so I’ll believe you."
Her gaze lingered on after that. It was no sharp and not probing. It was just quiet and observant. Like she was trying to read sothing beneath the surface. After a brief pause, she spoke again.
"I’m going to the tournant," she said plainly. "So there’s a high chance... maybe even a good likelihood that the two of us will end up eting in the finale."
"I see..." I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
She tilted her head slightly. "You don’t sound surprised. Did you expect sothing like that?"
"Not really," I answered honestly. "I’m not surprised. That’s all."
She stared at for a second longer, as if waiting for sothing more, then let out a small breath.
"But I bet you’d be surprised to hear this," she added. "Shredica will be fighting as well."
I kept my expression steady. I was calm with my expression unchanged. But inside, that piece of information hit harder than I expected.
"Well," she said, breaking the silence, "that’s all I wanted to say."
And just like that, she vanished.
There was no sound as well as no warning. One mont she was there, and the next, she was gone—like a bubble popping into thin air.
I stood there for a mont longer than necessary, then took a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs before slowly releasing it.
This tournant was going to be interesting.
No—entertaining.
***
The day of the tournant arrived, and by the ti I stepped into the venue, everything was already in full swing.
The crowd was loud. Not chaotic, but alive. Conversations overlapped, footsteps echoed, and the air carried that familiar tension that always ca with competition. Excitent mixed with anticipation, and a hint of nervous energy clung to the atmosphere.
The reward for winning had already been announced multiple tis.
A dinner with her, along with the commander.
It was strange. Honestly, a little awkward as a prize. But at the sa ti, it was effective. The number of participants alone made that obvious. People weren’t here just for pride or recognition—they were here because the reward was personal, exclusive, and tempting.
That was probably why she chose it.
Once everything was set, the tournant officially began.
The rules were simple but strict.
If a participant was deed incapable of continuing, they were eliminated.
Both swords and magic were allowed without restriction.
The platform itself was specially designed. A contained field that prevented magic from spilling outside its boundaries. Even high-level spells wouldn’t reach the spectators, ensuring their safety.
There was also one rule that stood above the rest.
No killing.
This wasn’t a deathmatch. It was a tournant—nothing more. Anyone who killed their opponent would be imdiately disqualified and imprisoned. Depending on intent, execution wasn’t off the table.
On the other hand, if soone died during the match, the royal family would step in and compensate the bereaved family directly.
Those were the rules everyone agreed to when they stepped onto the platform.
As I observed the ongoing matches, one thing beca clear.
Most of the participants weren’t particularly impressive.
They were competent, sure. Trained. Experienced, even. But none of them felt like soone I’d need to take seriously—at least not yet.
I planned to go all out eventually.
Just not now.
Drawing attention this early would only complicate things. For the ti being, blending in was the smarter option.
Soon enough, my turn ca.
This would be my first fight of the tournant.
I stepped onto the platform, facing my opponent. From his stance, his gear, and the way he carried himself, it was obvious—he was an adventurer.
And not a particularly threatening one.
The umpire raised his hand high into the air.
The crowd quieted.
Then the hand ca down.
The match had begun.
I didn’t move right away.
In my hand was a simple sword. Nothing special. Sothing I’d picked up earlier from the market. A standard blade, well-made but unremarkable.
I had no intention of using Ayuru this early. Bringing her out now would attract far too much attention. The sa went for any special weapons crafted by Leonamon.
Right now, this sword was enough.
My opponent watched carefully. He wasn’t reckless, but he wasn’t overly cautious either. His eyes stayed on , gauging my movents, and waiting for an opening.
I let him wait.
Then he moved.
He dashed forward, closing the distance quickly. Fast by normal standards, but nothing impressive to .
Compared to other enemies I’d fought—those who could vanish from sight or appear behind you in an instant—this was slow.
Too slow.
He didn’t even manage to get behind .
I reacted imdiately.
With a precise slash, I struck the base of his sword.
"Wah?!"
The impact was sharp and clean.
The blade cracked down the middle, splitting into two. One half flew from his grip, clattering loudly against the ground as it slid across the platform.
But the match wasn’t over.
Not yet.
Even without his sword, he still had options.
Magic.
He reacted fast, forming a spell and hurling a fireball straight at .
I swung my sword.
The fireball split apart instantly, dissipating into harmless sparks.
Another followed.
Then another.
Each one t the sa fate, cut down effortlessly.
"Kuh..."
He clicked his tongue, frustration clear on his face.
Magic like that wouldn’t do anything to . Even if I stood still and let it hit without activating the Guardian, it wouldn’t be enough to cause real pain.
I continued slicing through every spell he threw my way. His breathing grew heavier. His movents slowed.
It didn’t take long to realize why.
His mana pool was small.
After a few more spells, his strength gave out. His posture faltered, and he struggled to stay standing.
"Winner!"
The umpire’s voice rang out as he pointed directly at .
The match was over.
My opponent was deed incapable of continuing—not only because his weapon had been destroyed, but because his mana had been completely drained.
I lowered my sword and stepped back.
That was my first win of the day.
And the tournant had only just begun.
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