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Chapter 4: The First Days of Preliminaries

It was still early morning when the competitors began their days. With the ticket they received at the time they signed into their accommodation, they cross-checked their entrant number with the lists on the bulletin board and headed to their respective arenas. There were almost ten thousand participants to get through after all—if they didn’t get through the numbers quickly, they’d never have enough time.

The posters had naturally already made their rounds on the tournament island. There were those who were furious that they hadn’t been chosen, those who approved of the choices, and those who felt fear take root in their hearts knowing they may end up competing against those fighters. The reactions to the posters were many, but the passion among the competitors universally rose.

The preliminaries would now begin.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised,” Fressa—or Freeze as she was known for now—muttered as she peeked over the crowd to see the matchups on the board. Almost every person she had marked as strong or weak had been spread around equally. Trust Nia to know her stuff. It didn’t take long for her to find the names she was looking for when everyone around here was loudly wondering where the strong competitors like Zeon or the Kedo Brothers were positioned.

Everyone who seemed strong was scattered through the lineups. Nia must have ranked the strengths of the competitors as she was going around having the posters drawn. It was blatantly obvious that the matchups had been designed with those rankings in mind; there was no way all of her students would have been separated otherwise.

Е̇ ñ u m а̇

Then again, they were split into armed and bare-handed divisions, so maybe a coincidence like that could happen. Either way, the competitors that Fressa had found the most interesting had also been split apart, which had to have been intentional. Literally all of them were separated; there was no way it was a coincidence.

The truth behind-the-scenes aside, Fressa was pretty sure she’d be safe until the main matches. From the gossip she was hearing around her, there was one competitor in the prelims in particular that was pretty scary...but she’d already checked them out. She knew roughly how strong they were.

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She was sure that if all she had to do was win, she would be fine. Things might get problematic afterward, but there was no point worrying about that right now.

“Freeze, where’s your match?”

When Fressa stepped away from the board, an aristocratic lady dressed in attire completely unfitting of the current environment approached. She was the Mystic Butterfly of the Night, Scarlet, a whip user who had competed in the Umbral Arena. They’d been friends for a good while now. When you first met her, she would come across as a little annoying, but she was surprisingly down-to-earth and easy to get along with.

“I’m at court four, but it’s not ’til tomorrow, so I’m free today.”

Еnů m а

Preliminaries would last four days, with the majority finished by day three, and the final qualifiers for the main matches on day four. There would then be a month break until the main matches to allow the competitors to recover completely from any injuries or fatigue suffered through the preliminaries. It was a pretty long gap, but they intended to hold other events during that time to keep interest high.

All sorts of preparations and recordings would take place in order to help build up hype for the finals, like short interviews intended to dive into the backstories of the main competitors, and losers matches to give those who didn’t qualify one last chance to get a spot in the finals. The organizers had put careful thought into how to still make that month exciting.

At least, that was what it all was on the surface. But in reality, that blank space was intended as a time to generate excitement surrounding the betting over the tournament results, and for the elite to fit the tournament into their schedules. His Majesty was making all the fine adjustments he could in order to accommodate as many of them as possible; he’d chosen to start the main matches on a day when most of the elites of the surrounding countries would have relatively free time. Far more money had been invested than anticipated, so it gave them the leeway to make much about the tournament grander than they’d initially planned.

“You’ll come cheer me on then, yeah? I have my matches today.”

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“Huh? No, I’m gonna go watch some other fighters. The bare-handed division looks interesting.”

“Huh? You’re going to just leave me hanging like that? You’re going to abandon me for someone else?”

Ẽ n̊ŭ m̌а̇

“Huh? Is that a problem?”

“Huh? Why would it not be? I’m your friend, you’ve gotta at least cheer me on from the audience.”

Realizing that if this continued, Scarlet would likely hold a grudge toward her later, Fressa waved her off with a flippant, “Okay, okay, I’ll make sure to come back when it’s your turn,” and swiftly took her leave.

It occurred to her soon after that she’d forgotten to ask when exactly Scarlet’s match was. Seemed she wouldn’t be able to cheer her on, after all. What a terrible shame.

The arena had been split into eight basic courts. The matches were scheduled in a simple tournament style, with winners over the next three days participating in deciding matches for the semifinals on the fourth day.

Competitors were allowed to view matches as they pleased. Regular spectators had to make sure they watched from the audience seats. The matches would also be recorded, so there were about four production crews stationed around the hall. There were the Liston, Silver, and two royal production crews.

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Eighty percent of the courts were dedicated to the weapons division, whereas bare-handed only had the courts at the very edge. The bare-handed competitors numbered far fewer than the armed ones, and the courts allocated to them were also slightly smaller. It was almost adorable how reserved it felt. It really felt as if the organizers were using every last bit of space that they could. To be fair, it was just prelims, and there were ten thousand people to get through—it was likely an arrangement made so they could have multiple matches as quickly as possible.

“Is that them...?” After leaving Scarlet behind to enter the arena, Fressa approached a group of people with staff bands around their arms. They had cameras and other strange equipment, so they had to be a magivision crew. “Excuse me, can I ask which matches are the most anticipated right now?”

“Hmm?” The man looked a little surprised at suddenly being spoken to. When he turned around, Fressa was a little surprised herself—she recognized this man.

“Wait, are you Bendelio? From Tales of a Liston Stroll?” And the man that Nia hated the most. Well, it felt like there was a bit of respect in that relationship as well. The best way to interpret it was probably that Nia had a lot of complicated feelings about him. If she felt nothing but hatred, she would likely have killed him already. It was Nia, after all.

Still, Fressa hadn’t expected that out of all the production crews, she would accidentally end up interacting with the Liston one. Talking as if she recognized Bendelio felt like she’d just put her foot in her mouth. She’d wanted to remain completely unaffiliated with anything related to Nia while on the island...

No taking it back now, though. What was undeniable was that this crew were Nia’s colleagues—Fressa couldn’t show them any disrespect.

W̆ eb ṅ ò v̌ е́l̄ Eńu m̈а̊

“Why yes, I am Bendelio. Thank you for watching my show.” His face was a little distinctive, but his smile was strong. Despite his appearance, the man was very calm. Physically, he might not have been very strong, but he certainly was mentally. Fressa was certain he must have been incredibly skilled at negotiating. He came across as the type that could be very stubborn and forward.

Also, actually getting to see him in person, he was quite the looker, much more handsome than seeing him through the MagiPad. His appearance might not have been appealing to the current generation, but Fressa liked it. If he had been ten years younger, she might have tried to chat him up.

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“You must be Freeze, right? You were on one of the posters.”

“Ah, yes. Nice to meet you...” Honestly, Fressa had wanted to refuse having a poster drawn since she didn’t really want to be targeted by other contestants or the audience, but she couldn’t refuse a request from Nia.

She really had ended up talking to someone that was a bit awkward in her current situation. It would be best if she quickly finished what she came here for and went on her way.

“You’re going to record the prelims, yeah? So there have to be matches that you think you absolutely can’t miss. If it’s not a problem, could you tell me which those are?” With it being so crowded and so many matches going on at the same time, it was hard to know where to look. At times like that, there was nothing better than asking someone who had already done their research—in other words, the people doing the recording.

Е̄ n u m а. іd̂

“I don’t mind at all. You must be curious about your opponents, huh? We’re planning to go to the matches in this order here...” Bendelio cheerfully told Fressa the route they were intending to take through the matches. Apparently, it wasn’t something he felt they needed to hide, so Fressa could tag along if she wanted.

Following them around would be much easier than just going off of what she’d been told. Fressa wanted to hurry up and stop interacting with them, but now that she’d gone this far, perhaps it was pointless to bother.

Unfortunately, it seemed things wouldn’t be so simple—it turned out the matches they wanted to record were completely different from the ones Fressa wanted to watch.

“Are there any fighters that you’re interested in, Freeze?”

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As reluctant as she was to continue interacting, and as much as she’d rather say no to avoid unnecessarily giving information freely to someone, these were associates of Nia’s. She didn’t mind giving them a little treat.

“The second match on court nine of the bare-handed division.”

Е ň u m̀a

“That would be...Sonicspeed Zeon’s match, yes?”

Zeon was a famous wolf beastkin adventurer. His achievements were incredible and he was quite popular on top of that. Thanks to the magivision interviewer, he’d gained the affectionate nickname of “Dog Ears” which had led some passionate dog lovers to become his fans. Even now, his reputation among the tournament goers was positive as a potential winner.

Naturally, Bendelio and his crew had their eye on him, but from what Fressa had just heard, they intended to record a different match going on at the same time. They may have been thinking that it would be a given Zeon would win his match, so they could wait to record him later.

“Zeon is going to lose,” Fressa said.

“What?”

Court nine’s second match was between Zeon and none other than Gandolph. If they were fighting with weapons, perhaps Zeon would have had a chance, but bare-handed, Gandolph would absolutely come out on top. There was no way in hell Zeon would be able to crush that man’s defense.

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After parting ways with the Liston crew, Fressa went on a wander taking a glance at each of the matches. For the most part she didn’t remain for long, but she’d stop for a little longer if any of them caught her eye.

For now, it seemed her evaluations were not incorrect. The fighters that never caught her eye before didn’t catch her eye now. A lot of the entrants were beginners who entered either for the prize or for the experience. It would be in their best interests for them to be careful and retire early so they didn’t end up badly injured.

Even with that in mind, there was still a bit of tension surrounding the armed fights. The weapons being used were blunt ones that had been prepared by the tournament organizers, especially for those fighting with blades. Swords had their blades completely dulled so they were less deadly.

On the other hand, those with blunt weapons like maces or clubs were allowed to use them as is, so long as they didn’t have anything like spikes on them. The judges would decide whether or not private weapons were acceptable for use in the tournament. Magic-enhanced weapons were also a no-go.

But even with all those safety precautions, a dulled blade would still be going up against another blade. You could still kill someone with a wooden pole, or even just a single stone. Hit the wrong place and it would all be over in that single moment. It could be a complete accident, but a single strike could still kill a person. That tension made it fun to watch, but...it was almost time.

It was almost time for the match between Gandolph and Sonicspeed Zeon. This was the one match Fressa could not miss.

Еn̆ u mа̄ .іd̀

She wanted to see just how Gandolph’s training had been going. She was already certain she would walk out of that match breathing a sigh of relief knowing they were in different divisions.

The audience numbers for the bare-handed division were generally low, but right now, a whole crowd of competitors had gathered, even those who were in the weapons division. Most had likely come to see Zeon’s match.

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A number of the entrants Fressa had marked were also watching—but they likely weren’t here for Zeon.

A giant of a man was calmly sitting, awaiting his turn. His posture was stable and serene, as if he were a rock. He was Gandolph, vice-deputy instructor of the Heavenstriker school. Even disregarding his large frame, he exuded an aura of strength. The many eyes trained on him were sharp.

Many of the fighters had discerned Gandolph’s true strength.

“I feel bad for him.”

Ѐ ǹ ú m̀а

Fressa jumped at the sudden voice from beside her. She hadn’t even heard any footsteps or felt their presence, hadn’t even detected them approaching. If they had been approaching with the intent to kill, Fressa would’ve been dead. It had been a long time since she had been caught this off guard. It wasn’t even as if she hadn’t been paying attention.

However, the ability to hide one’s nerves being shaken was something assassins were proud of.

“Hmm?” When Fressa calmly turned to the side, a fox-eared beastkin was standing next to her.

“Oh, I was just thinking I feel bad for Zeon. No way he’s winning this one. That guy over there’s not someone you wanna get matched up against in the prelims.” The girl was pointing toward the large rock of a man.

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Fressa fully agreed. Zeon would’ve likely progressed to the finals if he hadn’t been up against Gandolph.

“You were one of the people drawn on the posters, weren’t you?” Fressa asked.

Wе̇ b ǹ о́v̆ë l Ėnům ȧ.

“Yup. You too. You’re definitely strong.” The fox girl gave a friendly smile. If Fressa remembered correctly, her name was Tohaulow. “From taking a look around, I could count on one hand the number of people that could beat that big guy. You’d be included, by the way.”

This girl was good.

“Unfortunately, I’m entering the weapons division. I’m just here to watch.”

“Oh, really?” Tohaulow leaned forward and looked into Fressa’s eyes. “I thought you’d be in this division. You look like you’d be strong even without a weapon.”

That’s my line, Fressa thought bitterly. She had thought this fox-eared girl would be strong even before those posters had gone around, but seeing her up close like this completely changed her impression yet again. She was likely stronger than Fressa had originally surmised. The girl was skilled enough to approach Fressa without her even noticing. She was a prime example of the natural physical capabilities of the beastkin.

“I won’t complain about having fewer rivals to worry about, though,” Tohaulow said.

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So she was entering the bare-handed division.

As they were chatting, the crowd started getting excited. A wolfman had arrived—Sonicspeed Zeon. His body was lean and well maintained, like a terrifyingly sharp needle. You only had to look at the way he walked to understand how strong he was. There was not a single opening; the man never let his guard down for even a moment. The match hadn’t even started, but he was already primed to attack.

The moment he looked at Gandolph sitting quietly at the side, his face darkened. Fressa could guess what ran through his mind. “Oh, I might not be able to win against him.” Something like that.

Zeon was strong. No joke, he was an exceptional adventurer with enough talent and strength for everyone to accept that he was a potential winner. But it was because he was strong that he fully understood the strength of his opponent. As Tohaulow said, it was hard not to feel bad for him.

That wolf was about to fight with someone he had a very slim chance of defeating.

Enuma ID

Not long after, the two were called up to the court. Their size difference was insane. Also, the result went exactly as expected.

Еn ùmа́.і̄ d̃

“And...fight!”

BOOM!

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A deafening collision echoed through the arena, rendering all other noise silent for just a moment.

The moment the referee signaled for the fight to start, Zeon had immediately fired a sonicspeed low kick right into Gandolph’s thigh. Gandolph had remained still.

Or rather, there had been no need for him to move.

“Aw man, he’s done it now. Stop it there, stop it there!”

Е́n ŭ ḿ а̌

Both competitors had stopped moving after the first blow. Tohaulow took that moment to barge in. It seemed she had noticed it too.

“Hey, what are you doing?!” the referee frantically shouted as he tried to stop the girl.

“Zeon’s injured, man. His leg broke,” Tohaulow told him casually, causing the man’s head to turn to Zeon in shock. “Staff, over here! Bring a stretcher, please!”

Beside the fox girl who was doing as she pleased, Zeon remained silent, still unmoving from the position he’d kicked Gandolph’s thigh in. It must’ve hurt like crazy—enough that he couldn’t even move.

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“You really got paired up with the worst opponent. Up we go.” After Tohaulow helped lower Zeon onto the stretcher, she quickly picked him up and carried him away. Everyone was silent. The moment the man everyone thought was a potential winner disappeared out of sight, the uproar started.

“Sorry, but may I do a quick pat down?” the referee asked in a daze, turning to Gandolph after watching Zeon be carried away.

Е́ñū m а̀ . і d̃_

The kicker had been the one to break their leg, not the one who was kicked—the kicker. It appeared that was enough to make the referee suspect there was foul play, perhaps something hidden underneath Gandolph’s pants.

“O-Oh, of course. Go ahead.”

Gandolph was just as shocked. He’d never imagined his opponent’s leg would break just by kicking him. Sure, he’d guarded with chi the moment the leg landed, but he’d done that all the time when sparring with Anzel. He’d done a very basic guard; he had been approaching the match with the mindset that if he let his guard down for even a moment, it would be over.

He’d been aiming to guard and then counter. He’d known he wouldn’t be able to beat Zeon with speed. But the result of that...was him taking the kick, and physically feeling the man’s bone break. He felt it snap, just like that. Never mind getting in a counter, the match was already over.

Zeon’s kick being so powerful was a big reason for the outcome. The strength he’d put in had been bounced right back at his limb. If he’d done it as a feint or a way to get a quick little hit in, he’d have probably been fine. But that strike had been intended to end the match in one go. Had Zeon’s opponent been someone else, that kick would’ve been powerful enough to shatter their thigh. If Gandolph’s leg had broken, the result of that match would’ve been far different.

That match felt more like a bad incident. But Gandolph had won through pure strength, there was no mistake about that.

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“Man, even preemptive attacks are scary against someone like him...” Fressa muttered as she left the court.

A full-on attack risked a far more intense rebound. Fressa really was eternally grateful that she wasn’t in the same division as Gandolph. She was pretty sure even a sharpened blade wouldn’t cut through that man.

The immediate defeat of the adventurer Sonicspeed Zeon was the first dramatic upset of the tournament. The beastkin had both strength and notable achievements to his name. No one ever thought he would lose, and yet in the second round of the tournament, he was out.

Many of the Altoire citizens hadn’t been paying the most attention since they thought the preliminaries wouldn’t be that exciting, but with this, it was no longer something they could completely ignore. They couldn’t help but look forward to the rest of the tournament after such a shocking incident.

And that incident let the true power of the Heavenstriker style be known to the world.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me?!” a deep, masculine voice boomed from one end of the guild to the other.

Е n̄ u̇ m̆ á . і d̄

Kukriziev Eaf, the guildmaster of the royal capital’s adventurer’s guild, had been watching the preliminaries of the martial arts tournament from his office.

His dreams and ambitions and desires had all been snuffed out in the second round of matches. It had happened on the first day of prelims, when barely anyone was watching and no one cared about the outcomes.

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The strongest adventurer that he knew, Sonicspeed Zeon, whom he had raised a massive pile of money to hire, had ended his match being carried away in a stretcher. Unfortunately, no station had been recording the match, only turning to see what had happened after the audience began making noise. The most important part of the match was nowhere to be seen.

Well, not exactly nowhere. By pure chance, the main recording had managed to catch the fight in the background, as small as they were, and that was being repeatedly shown right now. Kukriziev couldn’t see what happened at first, but when a fox-eared beastkin interrupted the fight and the referee announced the result of the match, his understanding finally caught up.

No, he’d been vaguely aware of what had happened; he just didn’t want to acknowledge it himself at first.

For a moment, he tried to delude himself into thinking that something had happened he hadn’t seen or something had happened outside of the match, and so this match was just being temporarily postponed while he was carried away... He’d had the slightest hope that something like that could be the case. But the reality was right in front of him.

Е̃n uṁа̊ .іd̄

“How?!”

But he didn’t understand. The image was small, but the match could still be seen fairly clearly. The moment the match started, Zeon had dashed forward at incredible speed and got in a very good kick—and that kick landed. Despite the distance, the sound of the blow could be clearly heard throughout the hall, that was how intense the attack had been. It was such a good kick that it should’ve decided the match. Kukriziev had instinctively went to cheer. He got one in! This is it! he’d thought to himself.

And yet, the one who was injured was Zeon. Just what had happened? What was happening?

Sonicspeed Zeon was the adventurer Kukriziev had called in for the tournament. He had called the adventurer to represent their guild, a first-rate adventurer that he had expected to win. In fact, it would’ve been fine even if he didn’t. Just getting a result that wouldn’t put the guild to shame would have been enough.

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If he were to be greedy, Kukriziev had hoped Zeon would even beat Leeno. Even though she was active in Altoire, Leeno still completely ignored the guild—he wanted to teach her a lesson. He wanted to show her that there were adventurers much stronger than her, to not get full of herself, that it wasn’t too late for her to return to them.

But this was the result. Zeon lost to a vice-deputy instructor, a deputy of a deputy. He lost to someone who taught children, who was a lowly instructor of a small dojo within the academy grounds, who wasn’t even a full instructor.

Еn̂úm a

Just what was that man?

“Gnnnnggguuuuuhhhhh...!”

He was so horribly frustrated that all he could do was let out a strangled groan.

He’d gone too far.

Well, actually, it still hadn’t registered that he’d done anything. But it was undeniably something he had done, and he had gone too far.

Gandolph let out a heavy sigh.

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Sonicspeed Zeon was not someone he knew very well, but he had at least heard that the beastkin was a famous adventurer. A first-rate adventurer who was incredibly talented and all the richer for it. Having seen him face-to-face, Gandolph recognized that strength. Zeon exuded the aura of the strong.

And yet he’d made a man like that break his own body.

Oh, but, of course, he didn’t mean that it would’ve been any better had it been some nameless nobody instead, definitely not. It was just...if he’d caught the leg, it would’ve ended at that. Gandolph could’ve ended the match without causing such an extreme injury. Catch someone like that with strength, and a light beastkin specializing in speed wouldn’t be able to do anything to retaliate.

If this had been a real battle, a fight to the death, one where Zeon could’ve held a weapon, the outcome would’ve been more uncertain. But in hand-to-hand combat, Gandolph easily won.

And yet, Zeon had broken his leg. That low kick had been incredible. Strangely, it reminded Gandolph of the first time he’d been up against Lynokis. It had been so fast that it had been impossible for him to dodge.

But this time was different. It wasn’t that he couldn’t react, it was that he didn’t. Because he knew he couldn’t dodge, he chose to focus on defense instead.

Еn̄ ū m а̃.і̀ d

And that resulted in the broken leg. Zeon must have been shocked, but so was Gandolph himself. Even though it wasn’t an intentional injury, an adventurer’s body was their lifeblood. If they suffered a bad injury, it would affect their work. He’d have to go through rehab, as well.

Gandolph had heard there was a magic physician on the premises. Hopefully, there would be no long-term damage...

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“Yo. The folk around here sure aren’t saying the nicest things about you, are they?”

Some of his colleagues came up as he stood there wallowing in...regret? No, it was something different, but it definitely left a bitter taste in his mouth. They were fellow dojo instructors within the academy.

“Are they?” Gandolph had noticed there were people glancing at him as they whispered among themselves, but he wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying.

“Yeah, they’ve been saying you cheated or something. What happened?”

Ėnu m̄а̇

“Well, I...” Gandolph went to explain, but then someone caught his eye. “Sorry, I’ll explain later!”

He quickly ran to the neighboring tenth court, where a small elderly man had just walked out. He was someone Gandolph had been curious about for a while. The shock he felt from the moment he’d seen the man, and the complete lack of opening in every movement he made, made it clear to Gandolph that he knew how to use chi, and at a level far surpassing him.

This was a match he absolutely had to see.

Gandolph ran as close to the court as he could.

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“Let the match...begin!”

And just at that moment, the referee gave the signal to start.

Ѐ nũ mа̊ . îd̄_

The elderly man’s opponent was a martial artist of the Longarm style. The founder of the style was apparently someone with such long arms, they could use them as a whip, a club, and even as a blade. It was a fairly famous style in Wu Haitong.

Meanwhile, the elderly man silently stood there, not even getting into position. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stood straight. The lack of stance reminded Gandolph of Nia. If he recalled correctly, she had said once, “Stances like that are specifically used when fighting against people. In my case, I fight more than just people, so if I get into too fixed a stance, I have a tendency to be slow in my response time to any unexpected attacks.”

Perhaps that was irrelevant to the current fight.

“Fwoooah!” The Longarm fighter let out a loud rousing cry as he jumped at the elderly man. Upon greatly contorting his body, he swung his arms wide, and aimed a heavy, high-speed attack straight for the man’s head. It looked like it would make a nice sound upon completion with how fast those arms were being swung. Gandolph could tell it was a heavy strike.

But to that strike, the old man stepped forward. Though it was a sharp step, it almost looked like his body was flowing gently, almost like a mirage... That illusory step forward allowed the old man to just barely dodge the strike aimed for him, and then throw a simple palm strike into his opponent’s torso.

Gandolph heard a heavy thud.

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“Grah!”

That thud hadn’t been the sound of the palm strike landing, but of the stomp of the foot. The elderly man had used the strong step forward to increase the weight of his strike. It was the same logic behind Chi Fist: Roaring Thunder.

But...

“Match over!”

Having taken the hit directly, the Longarm fighter went twirling through the air off of the court. It looked like a comedy bit. According to the rules, stepping outside of the court was an immediate disqualification, so the winner was decided.

The man was so skilled. The way he utilized his chi was so good. He wasn’t any stronger than he needed to be. Given his opponent was standing up without any problems, he likely wasn’t even that injured. Just that alone was enough to tell Gandolph how trained that man was in chi manipulation. He didn’t go overboard in the way Gandolph had. He was making sure to use only what was necessary.

Еň u m̂.а̄.. і̃d̆

Just like Nia.

Having witnessed that match, Gandolph now knew this man was even stronger than he imagined. If he showed his true strength, how would—

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“Gh...!”

Their eyes met. They didn’t just meet, the elderly man was walking over to him.

Enuma ID

“Oh my.” The man stopped in front of Gandolph and looked up. The size difference was like that between an adult and a child. The man scrutinized Gandolph closely, and then chuckled. “I really don’t want to end up against you. I couldn’t win without killing you.”

Gandolph’s instincts immediately told him that this was true. It wasn’t just an empty threat. This old man would definitely come at him with the intent to kill if they were to fight.

E̊ nu m̈ а

“You better forfeit if we get paired up. You’re still young. There’s no need to rush to your death.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

“You thank me, but you don’t intend to listen, do you?” The old man chuckled again. “You most certainly are a martial artist. Fine then, I’ll do my best to hold back—but make sure you surrender when you’re only half dead, all right?”

The elderly man kept laughing as he walked away.

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He was strong. Far stronger than Gandolph was now.

Could he truly win against someone like that?

Wѐb̄n̈ ӧ v̊ ẽl Е̄ num̃ а̃

That didn’t matter. What did was that he gave it his very best shot should the time arise.

Sonicspeed Zeon was eliminated from the tournament. The results of the first day of prelims had left the night in Altoire buzzing with excitement. Everyone was shocked by the incident that had resulted in the immediate elimination of one of the expected winners of the tournament, from those just finishing work to those busy with housework to the students—everyone who hadn’t been in attendance or seen the latest broadcast.

The martial arts tournament had been hyped up for a whole year. There had been several interviews and short specials on magivision covering famous adventurers or renowned martial artists, rare martial arts schools from Wu Haitong, races rarely seen in the country, and martial artists coming from very far away. Those broadcasts detailed their basic achievements and history in order to raise the awareness of the competitors, and that had resulted in many Altoire citizens greatly awaiting the day the tournament would begin.

And there really were many.

At first, they hadn’t been very open to the idea, saying it was a waste of taxes or it was all purely for leisure. But then they were surprised by the reward money, and then there were famous overseas celebrities arriving in the country, and that ended up making expectations for the tournament much higher. Following that was the knowledge of Leeno.

Before long, conversations surrounding the tournament were coloring the whole land, rumors began spreading, and the expectations for the event became astronomical. People would have heated debates about who would win, or would choose a specific competitor to dedicate their whole life to as if they were a religion. Those debates about who would win would turn into fights, and before long, so-called tipsters—who were frankly very suspicious—began popping up all over the city. The underworld also began making their move on dominating the betting spheres before anyone else could take control. When one part of this strange cycle began to get traction, so did the next.

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Everyone had become increasingly excited for the event, even when it was still just in the lead-up. Has it still not started yet? When will it start?

They had been teased for so long, but it had now finally begun. And from the very first day, there was already news shaking the public.

“Aw man, I decided not to bother ’cause it was the prelims.”

“I worked out my shifts so I could watch the main matches.”

“Why did they not record such an important match? Did not a single channel catch it?”

“I’d bet so much on Sonicspeed Zeon too...”

Ĕ ñ ŭ m а . i d

Through all the complaints and whining, they were all still glued to the MagiPad. On a related topic, official betting hadn’t begun yet. Any betting that was going on was entirely unofficial.

That commotion didn’t only occur on the first day. There were so many good bits to watch that people kept asking for more rebroadcasts, and so the capital began setting up nighttime MagiPad stations around the city.

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Thanks to that, Altoire became a city that never slept—but that story wouldn’t come until a few days later.

“Oh, Freeze! There you are! I’m so glad I could find you!”

It was day two of the preliminaries. Fressa—whose match was today—and Scarlet—who had lost in her very first match the day before—were approached by a man with a distinctive face the moment they entered the arena. He had a staff armband, and the lanyard around his neck bounced as he jogged up.

“Wait, Bendelio?! That’s Bendelio, isn’t— Gwah?!” The moment Scarlet—who had lost in her very first match—began making a fuss, Fressa shut her up with a swift body blow.

Wе̄ b̆n.oveĺ Е̇ nu ṁ а̄

“Good morning, Bendelio,” Fressa greeted pleasantly. “Did you need me for something?”

“Yes, but, um...is your friend all right?” He hadn’t seen Fressa’s impossibly quick punch.

“She’s fine, she gets stomachaches all the time. It’s not unusual for her to get the runs.”

“Oof, I do hear it’s good to make sure you keep warm. Oh, and that alcohol isn’t very easy for your stomach either. Make sure she doesn’t drink too much.”

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What is he on about?

Not wanting to get too involved with Nia’s associates, Fressa quickly moved the conversation on: “So what did you need me for?”

W̃ е̄ b̃ń ǒ v̀ ê l̃ Ě ṅ ŭm ä

“Oh, right. Freeze, would you mind telling us which matches to look out for?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yes. We missed that vital opportunity yesterday, y’see...”

He must have been talking about Zeon’s loss. Everyone thought that Zeon would win, that Gandolph was just some no-name martial artist from some random dojo, so none of the production crews had recorded their match. They’d luckily managed to catch it in the background of one of the broadcasts, but naturally, that wasn’t good enough for the audience. They’d apparently already received a ton of complaints about it, even though only a single day had passed.

“That was unfortunate.”

Fressa didn’t actually think the match would’ve made for very exciting viewing. There was barely any movement, and the way it ended felt much more like an accident. Regardless, everyone wanted to know how someone that was assumed to win had lost. That was something they wanted to be able to see for themselves. That was why magivision was being used to document the tournament to begin with.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

Since Fressa had correctly predicted the outcome, Bendelio was now coming to her for her thoughts and advice. Honestly, she really didn’t want to stand out, but...Bendelio was Nia’s colleague. She couldn’t let this chance go to waste. As much as she didn’t want to be associated with him.

“I think you’ll be fine if you just follow the competitors on the posters, especially the matches where both competitors are from that cohort.”

“Like your first match today?”

“Oh, uh...” Fressa was pretty sure that her first match was against a tiger beastkin who was nowhere near as strong as he looked. She assumed the reason he had been drawn was purely for visuals. Tiger beastkin were both rare in Altoire and looked strong, so their appearance alone could leave quite an impact. In which case, maybe it would also make for a good recording. A large beastkin would be getting his ass beat by a human lady, after all.

But Fressa didn’t want to stand out. She didn’t want to be caught on camera and she didn’t want to be broadcast to the world. She was using a completely fake identity and wearing a disguise, but it didn’t change that Fressa was a member of the underworld; nothing good would come from having the eyes of the public on her. Becoming too well-known could be a problem, especially if that ended up blowing her cover.

At times like this, a scapegoat would be perfect... Ah, there’s one.

Е̃ n u m a

Just as Fressa was worrying over how to respond, the perfect sacrifice came into view. “Try her,” Fressa said, pointing elsewhere. At the other end of her gesture was Lynette, who also seemed to have her matches today. Fressa didn’t know who her opponent was, but that didn’t matter. “She’s another favorite to win. I think you should follow all of her matches.”

There was no lie in Fressa’s suggestion. While it was less certain that Lynette could win the whole tournament, she’d at least make it to finals for sure. Besides, looking at all the competitors, female fighters were significantly fewer. With so few women competing, Fressa would like if that precious female competitor slot was given to Lynette. Fressa would then hide in Lynette’s shadow so she didn’t stand out.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

“Ooh, the lady over there? Is she that strong?”

Good, she’d managed to divert Bendelio’s attention. Unfortunately, Scarlet was giving her the side-eye now that she’d recovered from the punch. You know, the woman who lost in her first round. Oh right, she had been drawn on the posters too. But she still lost in her first round.

“I’ve met her before, actually,” Bendelio said. “Maybe I should go and see what she says.”

“What? Oh...”

Ё n ũ m̂а́_

Right, Bendelio was part of the Listons’ company. The fact he was interacting with Nia meant that it was highly likely he’d met Neal and his attendant before.

“Thank you for indulging me so early in the morning. Good luck in your matches.”

Fressa let out a sigh as Bendelio walked away. She’d somehow made it through. At least for today, she’d avoided getting recorded. Hopefully.

“Isn’t it pointless to try and escape?” Scarlet—the woman who was knocked out in her first match—said, eyebrow raised. They’d been friends for quite a while, and Scarlet had at least one foot in the underworld, so she could tell what Fressa was thinking. “I thought you were aiming to win this thing. People are gonna start paying attention to you the second you make it to the qualifiers for the main matches.”

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

“I know. But even if I can’t avoid standing out eventually, I’ll avoid it as much as possible, that’s all. The fewer people who know who I am, the better.”

“Like I said, isn’t it pointless to try and escape?” She’d said it twice. This woman who lost in her first match said it twice.

Е̂n ū mа

She wasn’t wrong, though.

At the same time Fressa was talking with Bendelio, Sauzan of the Heroic Star Assembly was staring at the posters hung down the corridor from the entrance of the arena. Apparently, they had started with fifty, but whenever a pictured competitor lost, their poster was torn down.

Sauzan had found the posters after coming to the arena to cheer on Tohaulow, who’d had her matches on the first day, and to scout out the other competitors. At first, he’d just given them a rough look, searching for himself since he knew he was supposed to be there. But then as he saw more of the posters, that casual look became a different feeling entirely.

Whoever picked these isn’t normal. They’ve seen through everyone’s power levels.

Most of the competitors who Sauzan and Tohaulow had agreed were strong or dangerous had been drawn for these posters. Only about a third of them were an exception to that, but given those were all famous adventurers or popular martial artists, they were likely reputable contestants picked solely to increase hype for the tournament. The only ones not drawn up were the henchmen of that old guy from Wu Haitong, but beyond that, this person had judged everyone perfectly.

The man who just passed behind Sauzan was one of those henchmen. In his case, though, his strength was blatant. It would have been obvious to anyone who looked at him that he was strong. What was more, that was the strength of an assassin.

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He was a large, built old man that had often been hanging around the other elderly Wu Haitong man. Given he was carrying a big red wooden pole, his matches had to be today. He hadn’t been drawn on the posters, but he was unmistakably powerful.

“Hey, big guy,” Sauzan called out. The man stopped and turned a sharp gaze his way. “Mind telling me your name?” Having no poster meant there was no easily obtainable information.

“Why?”

It was a good question. Sauzan suddenly striking up conversation in the way he had could have easily been mistaken for flirting if he’d asked it of a girl.

“’Cause you’re strong. I’m in the weapons division too, so I’ll probably end up fighting against you at some point,” Sauzan said.

The man was silent as he looked away. “Then you don’t need to know my name. I will be losing today.”

Е nũmа

What?

“Now it’s my turn to ask why,” Sauzan replied.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

There was no way someone with such all-encompassing strength could lose in the prelims. He was strong enough to win the whole damn tournament.

“Don’t ask questions with such obvious answers,” the man said as he began walking away. “It’s because I’ll be fighting someone stronger than me.”

Ohya, first disciple of the head of the main house of the Qilong, Ku Yunxie, was the second strongest assassin of the organization. The two men weren’t that far apart in age, and in fact, there was a time that Ohya was more akin to a junior who referred to Ku as “boss.”

Blessed with a naturally large body, he had as much strength as his size suggested, and he had spent much of his life as a martial arts dropout wreaking havoc in the countryside. At some point, he decided to move his antics to the city, and before long, he was beaten up by Ku, began respecting him, and then ended up dedicating his life to him despite how much Ku treated him like a nuisance.

Ẽnumа. і̂ d̀

It was not long after that when Ohya accidentally learned Ku’s real identity as an assassin of the Qilong and was nearly killed for it...until a third option was presented to him.

“I can end your life right here, or you can join the Qilong.”

And that was how Ohya went from a simple troublemaker to a member of the underworld. He had no regrets, though. If he’d continued his previous way of living, nothing good would’ve come of his life. The Qilong were an organization that existed for the sake of the country—it wasn’t made for the money. They were the ones who dirtied their hands when there were evils that couldn’t be punished by the law. An outlaw had managed to reach the level of a government official, even if it was in the shadows. It was a pretty good promotion if you asked him.

Enuma ID

Several years passed after that, and he’d begun entering the age where his finely trained body was beginning to deteriorate. His Emperor’s Fist—the hidden technique of Wu Haitong—was now much weaker than when he was at his prime.

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The one thing that hadn’t deteriorated was his experience. Maybe his physical strength was weaker, maybe his reflexes were duller, maybe his movements had lost their brilliance, but his eyes, honed by all that he had experienced, could still make predictions and judgments in a way that made it feel like he’d barely aged a day. Ohya’s eyes had become his most useful asset. Perhaps to others, it would be easier to understand this as his instinct.

Yet this woman he was facing now... He couldn’t win against her. No matter how many times he ran it through his mind, there was no future in which he defeated her. Ohya’s eyes, his gut, were telling him. He couldn’t win against this woman. He shouldn’t fight her. He shouldn’t bring shame to the Qilong name.

Е nû m̊ ă

His own juniors who would carry the next generation forward had come to this tournament with them. Ohya didn’t want to lose in front of them. But maybe loss was the best and last thing this old martial artist could teach them. He didn’t mind if his men laughed at him as an embarrassment, he didn’t mind if they felt anger toward his opponent. He didn’t even mind if they were able to view it as simply as the weaker of the two had lost.

Ohya still wanted to convey his wish for them to hurry up and succeed the Qilong, that they couldn’t rely on the old guard forever. They weren’t undefeatable opponents. The older they got, the weaker they would become, so the young needed to hurry up and surpass them.

They’d said this plenty to their students over the years, but this was an opportunity for Ohya to show it to them. It was an opportunity for him to show them reality. That was the last thing this aged body could teach.

But...in truth, he wished that the one to beat him had been one of his students. He could lose happy if those he taught surpassed him—because it would lead to a happy retirement.

By the afternoon, Fressa had smoothly made it to her last match of the day. Standing in the court now were the two competitors fighting for a place in the qualifiers for the main matches: Fressa, and an executive of the main house of the Qilong who had also smoothly made his way to his last match. His name was Ohya, and he was a built old man wielding a wooden pole. His gaze was sharp, and it was clear to anyone just how strong he was. Given he’d made it this far without breaking a sweat, it was clear that his appearance and his skill were aligned.

Still, there really were a lot of people in the audience.

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“Aw man...” Fressa already knew how she’d failed. Both competitors and regular people who had managed to nab tickets to the prelims had come in droves to watch their match. Even production crews were here to record it. Two of them, in fact. She was pretty sure she had spotted Bendelio among them.

It was all because of that tiger beastkin from the first match. Fressa had fully intended to deal with the battle swiftly and efficiently to get it over with before the crowds could gather—but then it completely backfired. The match had been between a beastkin and a human; their size difference was like that between an adult and a child. Anyone watching would’ve immediately assumed that the beastkin would win.

And yet, the human finished the match instantly. It had been so fast that the beastkin hadn’t even been able to prepare his metal gauntlets to attack.

Now that she thought about it, she shouldn’t have been surprised that that was much more likely to draw attention. Honestly, she would’ve drawn attention either way, whether she’d made it quick or not; that was just what happened when you kept winning. She’d just sped up the process a bit, that was all... At least, she kept telling herself that.

“Both of us are in a pretty sticky situation here, huh?” Fressa said as she played with her weapon. She’d changed her weapon each match, this time using a blunt knife. She ran her fingers along the blade to check, and sure enough, it was even more incapable of cutting things than the knives at Anzel’s bar. It would probably struggle to cut even a thin slice of ham.

Though there was quite the crowd gathered, there was still enough distance between them that with the referee still to arrive, the only one that could hear her was Ohya.

Е n̂ū m̀ а ._і d̆

“You are of the same occupation, yes?” he asked.

Fressa shrugged. She wasn’t surprised he could tell. In fact, it was because they shared an occupation that they could recognize it in each other.

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“I’ve pretty much been out of business the past few years, to be honest. I’ve been picking up so few jobs I may as well be retired.”

“That is for the best. You are still young. You have plenty of time to restart.”

“Unfortunately, I’m too deep into it all to turn back.”

“That isn’t true. So long as you are alive, you can start fresh as many times as you wish until you die. We only live once. May as well do what you want before that time comes.”

Ŵ е̃bn оvеl̈ En̄ um̆ а

Fressa laughed. “Why’s someone in the same field lecturing me, hmm?”

“It’s simply a lesson I’ve learned in my long life. Humor me. Us old men like to chat.”

“Oh? I suppose I do find it quite touching if I consider it life advice from a colleague.”

The referee appeared shortly after their back-and-forth.

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“Hey,” Ohya called out to the referee just before they could give the signal. “Start the battle from outside the ring. I’ll be using the whole space.”

“Excuse me?”

Еñ um̄ а . і́ d̆

“He’s trying to say it’s dangerous because he might accidentally hit you as well,” Fressa added, seeing the referee’s confusion. “Look at how long his pole is.”

Ohya’s height made it look smaller than it was, but his vermilion pole really was quite long. If he swung that thing, he would hit the referee easily. The court wasn’t narrow, but just in case, it would be good for him to stay back.

Now understanding the old man’s intentions, the referee stood at the edge of the court. “I will step off the moment I signal for you to begin. Now, let the match...”

The referee raised his right hand. Ohya dropped into position. It was a simple orthodox stance, one with no openings. Fressa, on the other hand, remained as she was. The most she did was casually run her finger along her knife’s blade.

“...begin!”

Almost as if he were hitting the air itself, Ohya immediately took his staff and did a magnificent horizontal swing.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

One line, one flash. The attack took full advantage of the length of both the man’s arms and the weapon itself as it used almost the full court as its attack range, and it was aimed right at Fressa’s stomach.

It was a staff, a wooden pole. But that solid piece of wood would be practically sucked into the skin if they collided. It would be powerful enough to shatter a person’s bones easily—both the weight and speed were more than enough. If Fressa, as slender and light as she was, were to take a direct hit from a weapon like that, she’d be out of the fight in one hit.

Letting out a quick breath, Fressa rotated her body, dodging the staff with a cartwheel as light as a feather.

“I knew it.” Ohya was positive now. This girl had the same foresight that Ku Yunxie did. It was one step above being able to predict someone’s next attack solely from their initial movements.

A prediction of a prediction. She could tell what her opponent was going to do before they even began their attack. That was why her reactions were so fast.

It was a precipice that Ohya had strived to reach and failed, yet this woman had already succeeded.

Ẇ е̄ bn óv̄ е̄l Е́ń ŭm̆ а́

“Hmph!”

But that wasn’t a good enough reason to give up.

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Fressa had walked into this battle certain she wouldn’t lose, and she was certain Ohya had come to the same conclusion.

But things really were different in a real battle—Ohya was stronger than Fressa had thought.

Ohya’s attacks were generally thrusts and sweeps, very simple attacks because of their range. He would never take any large steps forward, remaining at the perfect distance to use his pole to its maximum potential. Whether because of that simplicity or because it was such a light weapon, all of his movements were speedy as well. The attacks were so simple they were easy to read, but the predictability didn’t even matter.

And then...

Ẁ ӗb̄ňǒ vе̇ l Ё.n̄ú m ӑ

“Crap...!”

One of those low thrusts managed to clip Fressa’s toes, like a snake striking its prey.

This is bad. It was so fast I couldn’t dodge it completely. It hurts too. He just grazed my foot, but that might have done way more damage than it appears.

That was why weapons were scary to fight against. Even simple attacks intended to control the enemy’s position could get in some real damage.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

From the very first swing, Fressa had been doing nothing but dodging. From afar, it looked like she was dodging with ease, but in reality, she was cutting it close. Ohya’s attacks were relentless, and each and every attack was incredibly fast and heavy. You’d never think the pole was a light weapon.

If just a single one of those attacks hit Fressa directly, her whole stance would collapse. Lose that and the next hit would definitely land. Even if she did miraculously dodge that second hit, what about the next? What about the one after that? That endless barrage was his method of cornering her.

W̄ ė b̀n̊ о̇v̀ěl Е̂ n̊ ǔm̊ а

Fressa was starting to panic. She was failing to find a single opening to attack. The moment Ohya had managed to hold the distance between them, he continued with no intention of letting Fressa get a single attack in.

And surely it didn’t stop there. Ohya was already this capable, surely he had some trump card up his sleeve. Fressa’s prediction was that it was something that he would use the moment she entered close range. If even through those pole attacks, Fressa managed to slowly but surely approach, he would counterattack with that trump card. That was likely how Ohya achieved his victories.

Then what could his current attack patterns be considered? Zoning? Bait to get Fressa to approach? Wasn’t he a bit too aggressive for something intended to keep her in her place? He should be more carefree. He was so merciless—like, unbelievably merciless. He should have been more considerate. He should have made the match more fun to watch.

Yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen.

Fressa wasn’t certain that her prediction was right, and that was exactly why she was so on guard. The price for taking this risk and messing up would be massive. If she leaped in too quickly, she might end up just like Sonicspeed Zeon.

The situation wasn’t good. At this rate, she would lose. She was starting to notice the pain in her foot too. Pain was one of those things that killed your concentration the second you noticed it.

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Her only choice was to go on the offensive. Fressa felt like Ohya was waiting for that too. She needed to put an end to this before her foot got so sore she couldn’t move properly. If she didn’t try now, she’d lose.

Now, what should I do? Not only was the audience big, but the cameras were rolling. She didn’t particularly want to do this, but...this was still prelims. If she lost here, she’d gain absolutely nothing. She wouldn’t get even a tiny bit of the prize money, and she’d have stood out for nothing.

Guess I’m making my move, then.

Thwack!

Fressa carried out her first block of the match, deflecting the red pole with her knife. Thankfully, with the blade being so blunt to begin with, it wasn’t a big deal if it chipped. After deflecting the weapon, Fressa took the slight opening to make a step forward.

Thwack! Thwack!

Е̄nü m̈ӓ.іd̄

Ohya recovered immediately each time and would attack again, but Fressa deflected those follow-up attacks with ease. She’d already memorized its speed and path. If she altered its trajectory a little, it was very easy to dodge.

She had decided against solely dodging to make her approach. It wasn’t good to let that staff remain moving freely. It was already close enough while she had been focusing solely on dodging, but if she tried to dodge and make her approach, she’d be hit for sure.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

After repeatedly hitting away the staff that was trying to wrap around her like a snake, after a time that felt much longer than it really was, after slowly increasing speeds of moving from defending to dodging...

There.

The moment Fressa was within touching distance of Ohya, the man unleashed a strike aimed for her legs—it was the move that she had been waiting for. Using the red snake as a foothold, thereby momentarily sealing the weapon, she lunged forward.

He really is fast!

Ê n̆ ǔ ḿ а̀

But then the staff immediately came back to life, as if it were a real animal, and began moving again. Ohya had swiftly taken a massive step back to realign their distance and swung his staff sideways. He recovered way too fast. What an irritating old man.

Dodging that too, Fressa once again made her approach.

Though they were both moving so fast, the moment their eyes met after she’d closed the distance, it felt as if they’d come to a standstill.

He’s gonna attack.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

The moment that thought fully registered in Fressa’s mind, their attack and defense had already been completed. Honestly, Fressa had no idea what Ohya had done.

And then she realized: It had been an upper roundhouse kick. That had to have been Ohya’s trump card. It was simple, but an otherwise terrifyingly fast kick that was boosted by the strong centrifugal force generated by the movement of the pole. It was likely a move the man had polished most over his long career.

W ě b̌ nov е́ľ Ӗ ṅu_m̂å

The kick had been aimed right for Fressa’s head; had that landed, her neck would’ve snapped immediately. Actually, more than likely, her skull would’ve shattered. She didn’t want to imagine just how much damage she would’ve taken if the attack had even just lightly scraped her.

The attack was so fast that Fressa couldn’t even see it.

Enuma ID

But Fressa’s dodge had been entirely unconscious. The moment she sensed the movement, Fressa was moving to avoid that invisible roundhouse kick. And then finally, she’d once more managed to enter engagement distance.

The moment she was in, she made her attack. Twisting out of the kick, Ohya kept his pivot foot in place as he spun, and Fressa took that opportunity to aim the knife for his neck.

There was no time to think about holding back or where specifically to strike. It was kill or be killed. From the moment the round started, Fressa had understood this was the situation, and had switched into her work mode. All she had in her mind was how to kill her opponent.

This was the correct timing. She could kill him. Absolutely. If she just aimed here.

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There was the tiniest opening after Ohya had finished his movement and completely stopped his assault.

This was an opening born from the man having messed up by misfiring his trump card that was fully intended to end the match—he hadn’t thought of what came next, had not deemed it necessary to.

Fressa couldn’t let this chance go by.

Her knife’s blade was dull, but the point was still sharp. Thrust it hard enough, and it would break skin easily.

She would not let this proximity, this timing, go.

At least...that was her intention.

E ń üm а.i̊ d

“No way?!”

This time, Fressa was the one who had messed up. Her knife didn’t reach Ohya’s throat; it stabbed deep into his shoulder instead.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

Did he dodge? Right after coming out of such a wide kick?

It had been the slightest movement, but it was enough for Ohya to avoid a lethal injury. What was more, he had calculated that. At the moment the knife stabbed him, he relaxed his muscles, and then the moment the blade was in, he tightened them again.

He’d deliberately made Fressa stab the knife in deep. She couldn’t pull it out. She couldn’t continue fighting at close range.

Their eyes met again. Ohya wasn’t wavering even slightly. He was not frightened, nor was he hesitating. Even after being stabbed. Even after suffering a deep wound.

Е̌n̂u ḿ á.і̂ d

This man was in the same field as her. But the difference in experience between the two of them was great. He had shown clear as day that, as an assassin, he was greater than her.

Letting go of the knife, Fressa immediately jumped back. The next attack would be coming.

Don’t panic. Don’t mess this up. Calm down. Even if she was losing in the realm of mindset and skill of an assassin, the one currently with the upper hand in this match was Fressa.

The knife had met its target. Just like a snake’s venom, it would now start to take effect.

Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.

“Stop! End it there!”

A while after they returned to their stalemate of Ohya swinging his pole and Fressa dodging, the referee finally cut in.

Е̇ n̄ ů m ӓ

“Don’t interfere! Why are you stopping us?!” Ohya yelled, hostility radiating off of him, but...everyone present, the spectators, the competitors, could answer that question easily.

“Because you’ll die if you keep going,” Fressa answered in place of the referee who was currently quivering in fear.

Half of Ohya’s body was stained red.

The man had been moving aggressively even while the knife was still stuck in his body. The wound had slowly widened, releasing even more blood.

“You... This was your goal!”

That was why she had been buying time. That was why she’d never tried to attack again.

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Well, he was halfway there.

“You’re gonna pop a blood vessel being so hotheaded at your age. Do you really think I could attack while you were being that aggressive?”

“Cease with your lies! Someone of your caliber shouldn’t have found that difficult at all!”

This was one thing Fressa really wasn’t lying about. Ohya had been stronger than she initially judged him to be. That was why there were genuinely no openings she could have taken advantage of. It didn’t help that she’d lost her weapon. She couldn’t guarantee she’d be able to dodge that roundhouse kick a second time either.

Or maybe...it had been what Nia had mentioned once before. Martial artists would get stronger in the middle of real battle. Close fights were where the greatest growth was to be found.

The first time Nia said that to Fressa, she thought it was all rubbish, truth be told. “What stupid logic, there’s no way that’s true,” she’d thought. But maybe there was truth in it after all. Through exchanging blows, testing each other’s strength, they’d learned and slowly fixed their movements. You could say a martial artist’s greatest growth was the adjustments one made naturally when their life was on the line.

Е num̆а̀

Ohya had gradually been matching his swings to Fressa’s dodges. That was why one of the strikes had clipped her at all. Sure, it wasn’t a direct hit, but a hit was still a hit. It still hurt. She’d been forcing herself through the pain same as Ohya had, so it hurt real bad now. She didn’t think he’d damaged her bone, but the inside of her shoe felt wet. Was it just sweat?

What made things worse was that she’d had nowhere near enough weapons. Usually, she’d fight with weapons hidden in various locations across her body. Knives alone she usually kept several of. Ironically, it was specifically to have a backup in case she lost her weapon as she had in that fight. It also gave her something she could throw at range when her opponent fought at a distance like Ohya did. This was all she could manage with only one knife.

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“Hey, take a look around you.” Suddenly, a small elderly man stepped out of the audience.

It was Ku Yunxie.

“Everyone knows this is your loss. This isn’t a deathmatch, stop it there. If you die here, you’ll cause problems for both the tournament and all of Altoire.”

“Master...”

Ĕ numӑ

“It was a good draw. Come on, let’s go to the infirmary before you can’t even stay upright by yourself.” That was all Ku said before he walked off. Ohya’s brow was furrowed deeply in frustration, face furious as he stood there, rooted to the spot... But eventually, he bowed, and stepped off the court.

Fressa let out a sigh. She was exhausted. She used up way more energy than she thought she would. Even though she won that match, it almost felt like she’d lost.

As an assassin, Ohya had been stronger. If they’d continued for just a little longer, Fressa would’ve been the loser. If that had been a fight to the death, Fressa would’ve lost easily. That man would willingly sacrifice his limbs if it meant seeing his job through to the end. The difference in people’s mindsets always became most apparent when placed in the most extreme situations, and that included very close matches.

Was this the difference between working as an individual and working as a group? Freelance assassins’ jobs weren’t done the second they killed the target. It was only complete once they’d been given their reward. In Ohya’s case, though, he had friends he could entrust the rest to.

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Fressa couldn’t deny it made her jealous.

“I guess I should go give the doctors a visit too...”

Ëň uma

She was already this hurt, and it was only prelims. She had her work cut out for her in this tournament.

Given the large scale of the tournament, there were naturally many magic physicians on standby. They were reputed as being able to save any patient so long as they didn’t die from their wounds immediately.

Ohya was led to the area for critically injured patients, where he lay down on a bed partitioned off from the rest of the room—and immediately passed out.

“Oh, off he goes. Let’s see... That’s another one losing too much blood.”

As the doctor said, Ohya’s bleeding was extensive. Despite being faced with a dangerous-looking man with a knife stuck in him and blood covering a whole side of his body, the woman examining his wound was exceedingly calm. In fact, she was so calm it was as if she weren’t even thinking twice about what she was looking at.

“How does it look, miss? Is his life in danger?” Ku asked, having accompanied Ohya to the infirmary.

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“Hmm, well, judging from his complexion alone, his blood loss is likely pretty bad, but he should be fine with enough good rest. Can I ask for permission to cut open his clothes?” Ohya was wearing a very well-tailored Wu Haitong outfit. It was easy to see how expensive it must have been from the material used. Since she wasn’t cutting up some regular fighter’s tattered robes, the doctor sought permission first.

“Of course, that’s not a problem. Please help him.”

Having been given the okay, the doctor took her scissors and cut open the area where the knife stuck out.

“Oh my.”

The muscled body was surprising for someone of his age, and the countless old scars littered across his skin made it apparent how rough a life the man had led. But more than that...

“Starting treatment.”

Ê nů ḿа̀ . îd

Everything made sense to her upon seeing those familiar tattoos. It was proof of one’s status as a member of a certain assassin’s organization. It had been a while ago, but the doctor had seen those tattoos at the Umbral Arena before. No wonder Ohya hadn’t surrendered despite suffering a life-threatening wound. He’d resolved himself long ago to not just kill, but to also potentially be killed.

“Have you seen these tattoos somewhere before?” Ku asked.

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“Nope. The pattern is very fancy. What is it? An animal?”

The doctor knew she’d be putting her life at risk if she dared admit that she’d seen it before. Admittedly, it seemed as if Ku had already seen right through her...but you couldn’t make it far as a doctor of the Umbral Arena if you didn’t have some guts. The mental exhaustion would be unbearable if you were scared by every little thing.

“All right, then. Will he need to be hospitalized?”

The doctor’s continued calm as she went about treating the wound must have been enough to let her get away with the lie.

Е̂ n̄ üm̀ а

“He’s fine to go home once the wound is closed up. Make sure he eats plenty of red meat and green veggies so his body can make the blood it needs.”

“No need to worry about that. He’s a big eater, so he’s always fed well. He might be getting old, but his appetite isn’t getting any smaller.”

The doctor laughed. “At least he can look forward to a long life.”

The conversation was filled with false niceties, but it was the most appropriate way to be in a place like this. Keeping the atmosphere heavy helped no one. This was where those with heavy injuries were brought to be treated—while it wasn’t the busiest unit right now, there were many patients here where just one mistake could’ve spelled their end. No one wanted to talk about depressing topics when they were lying there in pain.

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“Shine, a patient is asking for you,” a fellow doctor called out from behind the partition.

“Sure, I’ll be there in a sec,” she responded lightly as she stood up. “His wound is all cleaned up. Make sure he rests for a while.”

Ӗńǔ_m̊а́..і̊ d

External treatments were simple—all she had to do in this case was take out the knife, clean up the blood, and heal the rest with magic. Broken bones and internal damage were much more of a hassle.

“Of course. Thank you for your work.”

After Ku said his thanks, the doctor went to the treatment area for light injuries.

“Ah, so it is you, Fressa.”

“Yeah, but call me Freeze while we’re here.”

This area was also filled with beds blocked off with simple partitions. A familiar face had been sitting there waiting for her.

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“We’re working with fake names now, are we? Actually, was Fressa a fake name too?”

Enuma ID

“Come on, not here.”

Understanding the irritation, the doctor nodded in acquiescence. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“That’s my line, no? Should an underground doctor really be here?”

“Did I never tell you? My underground work is just a side gig; my main job is as a proper doctor on the surface. I got officially requested to be here, y’know.”

“Wow, that’s news to me.”

Ẁ ӗ b̀n̂ о̇v̊ е ĺ Ẽ n̆ ũm̊а̊

Just like with Scarlet, Fressa knew Shine through the Umbral Arena, but they weren’t close enough to really consider each other friends. They’d gone out for drinks once or twice, but they didn’t know that much about each other.

“So, what’s the damage?”

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“Hurt my foot.”

“All righty, let’s have a look, then.” When Shine removed Fressa’s right boot, blood was dripping from the tip of her sock.

“Whoa, it’s actually hurt?” There was so much blood. Sure, it had hurt the whole time, and it had felt wet, but she’d thought that she’d just suffered a slight fracture given it was a blunt attack. At worst, maybe she’d broken a bone, but this...

“Why are you surprised?”

Е̊_ńū.m ā

“I just didn’t think it would be bleeding.”

Fressa had spare socks, so that was fine, but the problem was her shoes—they had been on the more expensive side since she’d bought them for work. She’d decided to splurge a little so that she could buy a pair that would last her for life. She’d need to give them a thorough clean later. Surely she could still use them; she wanted to keep them going for at least another twenty years.

“Your nail’s probably been broken or ripped off. Mind if I cut your socks?”

“Go ahead.”

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As the doctor had surmised, she’d broken the nail of her big toe. Apparently, she’d also fractured the bone slightly too. No wonder it hurt so much.

The damage was that bad from a move that only grazed her? What the hell kind of condition would she be in if that had struck her directly? It would probably have mangled her whole toe, never mind breaking the bone. That man really had been much stronger than she’d assumed. She shouldn’t have estimated his strength in the way she had. Why had she ever thought she could win easily? That had been a narrow victory.

Wе́b n o̊ v ẽ ľ Е̌.ňù m а

“Are the matches heating up?” Shine asked.

“Eh, it’s still only day two of prelims. They’re not bad, I guess?”

“Not bad, huh? You know, I just saw to the old guy who fought with you. He would’ve died if he’d come any later.”

“I see. You’re...not gonna tell me I went overboard, are you?”

“No, but...” Shine cut up the sock until the injured area was exposed and then went to cleaning and disinfecting it, before beginning her magic treatment. “I’d just prefer it if you didn’t draw out your battles. Don’t hurt them too badly, if you could. The medical team’s reputation will tank if anyone dies here.”

Trust an underground doctor to not care about morals.

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“Honestly, things are probably gonna get worse from here,” Fressa said. As she’d just said, it was still only the second day of prelims. As they went from qualifiers for the main matches onto the finals, the fights would only get more intense, and that also meant an increase in fighters who would be much more reluctant to admit defeat. There would likely be many of them who would push through injuries just to keep a match going and then it would be too late to heal them by the time the match would be brought to a close.

“Well, I suppose there is five hundred million krams on the line, after all,” Shine said.

“Exactly.”

Anyone would want five hundred million krams—that was an amount worth putting one’s life on the line for. Why else would Fressa be here?

“Aren’t you here for money too, Shine?”

“But of course. Why else? I couldn’t care less about this barbarian festival otherwise. If people are that desperate to die, they can go do that, but I’d rather they do it in a way that won’t inconvenience me.”

Еn̊ u m̄ а. īd

Trust an underground doctor to have a clear vision of what they wanted.

“Master.”

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When Ku left the infirmary, his students were there waiting for him.

These four were the executives of the Qilong, but they had not yet surpassed Ku and Ohya.

“Ah, you’re all here. Ohya is fine. The doctor said he just needs a rest and then he’ll be fine to leave. I’ll stay with him so you can all spend your time as you please.”

Ku couldn’t read his students’ feelings. What were they thinking about the defeat of the second strongest assassin of their organization? Ku wasn’t particularly concerned with what they felt about it, but he would be very thankful if it only increased their motivation. They couldn’t rely on their elders forever, seriously. Both Ku and Ohya wanted to retire already. In all the years the Qilong had been active, barely anyone had remained in service for as long as they had.

Е n̊ ǔm̌ ã..id̃

“I’m happy to hear that. By the way, it seems Anzel didn’t have his match today either.”

“He didn’t? It must be tomorrow, then.”

Anzel’s matches would be on the third day of prelims. There still seemed to be a lot of people left even after the second day. Ku began to think it might be worth waiting until the main match qualifiers. At least by then, the number of people on the island should be much lower, and that would make it much easier for them to make their move.

Ku didn’t want to remain for too long, but with Ohya’s condition being as it was, a day’s break wouldn’t harm anyone.

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“How were all your matches?”

“Everyone made it through except for Kou. Rimo and Taisan have their matches tomorrow.”

Ӗn ū m̄ а .і̌ d

“What’s this? You lost, Kou?”

“Yes, sir. It was against a wooden sword user. The poster said her name was Lynette Bran... Apparently, she’s the bodyguard for an aristocrat family.”

“A bodyguard, you say?” Ku was smirking as he rubbed his chin. “We have so many interesting faces at this tournament. We have that man from the Heavenstriker school, that woman who fought against Ohya, and now we have this bodyguard. The world is a big place. To think there were those out there who could win against us in one-on-one battles.”

But, well, that wasn’t what was important here.

“Kou, you’re getting severe drills once we return.”

“Yes, sir...”

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That was all they needed to discuss for now.

“Anzel’s matches are tomorrow, yes? His life is ours two days from now. Enjoy the tournament until then.”

It would turn out that single day would completely change the trajectory of both Ku’s and Anzel’s fates.

Day two of preliminaries were over. An interview with the mysterious beauty, Freeze, who had already shown the audience some unforgettable matches, was broadcast on magivision that night, much to the chagrin of the fighter herself. This resulted in a great upswing of her popularity.

Yet another stunning upset had taken Altoire by storm. With the fighters hired by the guilds and the trade associations losing one after another, the unpredictable events were never-ending.

“Unpredictable drama will only continue to unravel from here,” were the words of Hildetaura, the Surprisingly Approachable Princess, who was also one of the interviewers for the tournament, and those words had become something of a mantra all across the city. The citizens of Altoire were finding it harder and harder to take their eyes away from the MagiPads.

Ẁеb n̆о v̄еl̈ Éṅu ṁ а

And then the third day arrived. It was time for Leeno the adventurer, the audience’s most-awaited competitor, to face her matches.

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Chapter 4: The First Days of Preliminaries

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Baca Novel Nia Liston: The Merciless Maiden Chapter 76: Chapter 4: The First Days of Preliminaries Bahasa Indonesia - Enuma Novel

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