Neve, caught off guard, stared at Elric. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," Elric replied, his tone light—but edged with irritation.

Leaning back in her seat, Neve answered calmly, "I'm not."

"Then why did you nearly kill three people by the end of the round?" he shot back, the annoyance in his voice now unmistakable.

She shrugged. "They'll recover. Maybe they'll even gain Regeneration."

"That's not the point!" Elric snapped. He took a breath, then added, more controlled but no less serious, "If you killed someone, I don't think I could get you out of here. And… I'm not sure Boss could either. Not right now."

Neve finally turned to look at him. "I know what I'm doing," she said, then closed her eyes and turned away again.

Elric sighed, defeated, and turned his gaze toward the stage as the next round began.

---------

Knock knock.

"Come in," a lazy voice drifted from within the room.

A young man with brown hair and sharp, calculating eyes stepped inside and immediately bowed. "Sir, I have some things to report."

Nova sat cross-legged in the center of the room, the small Array Basics booklet open in his hands. His eyes remained fixed on the pages.

"Go ahead," he said without looking up.

Clearing his throat, the man began in a steady tone, "Last night, we received confirmation that General Shira and General Nox entered a Blue portal with their respective teams. Elric and Neve have also arrived in Univara to participate in the tournament. They should be fighting as we speak."

At that, Nova finally lifted his gaze, his attention shifting fully to the man.

"Oh, it's you," Nova said, recognizing the man. "Garrik, right?"

"Yes, sir," Garrik replied, his expression composed.

Nova nodded. "Any word on whether any of my friends are participating in the tournament?"

"No reports yet," Garrik said evenly.

"Mhm." Nova paused, then added, "If you hear anything, report back immediately. And keep searching for Cassidy. Anything else?"

"Yes, sir. General Alaric has regained consciousness," Garrik said, his tone softening slightly.

A smile spread across Nova's face. "Tell him to meet me as soon as he's able." His voice dropped a notch. "It's urgent."

Noticing the shift in tone, Garrik gave a firm nod. "Understood."

"All right, if there's nothing else, you can go," Nova said, his mood slipping back into its usual laziness as his eyes dropped to the booklet in his hands.

Bowing, Garrik responded respectfully, "That's everything, sir. I'll take my leave." With that, he turned and exited, closing the door quietly behind him.

Left alone, Nova muttered, "Rank 2 Mana Gathering Array… still a bit too much." He sighed. "Three more days stuck in here… I should just drop the Rank 2 and scale up a Rank 1 version instead."

"At least I won't be confined to this room," he added, glancing around.

The walls were marked with faint scars—visible to anyone who looked, yet wouldn't immediately catch anyone's attention. Most would chalk them up to nothing more than the usual wear and tear of time and use.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

But the truth was something else entirely.

His gaze returned to the booklet just as the air around him began to stir. A faint hum rose, and with it, the wind—growing stronger by the second.

"I need a storm."

-----------

The spectators grew more and more excited as each round passed, eager to witness the current strength of Humanity on full display.

In the third round, a particular participant drew attention—not because he was respected, but because he was feared. Even more than Ryan.

He was a tall young man with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes, wielding a silver greatsword nearly as tall as he was. His name was Maelor Thorn, the current number two at Univara Academy.

But Maelor's rank didn't earn him respect. In truth, most saw it as inflated. Before Elric and Neve left the academy, he had only been ranked fourth. But weaker students feared being paired against him due to his temper.

On stage, Maelor tore through the competition, chasing students down until the very last moment. By the end of the round, he had single-handedly eliminated forty-six participants—leaving the crowd stunned. Even after the match ended, he looked ready to fight the remaining four students.

"I don't remember him," Neve said, watching Maelor descend from the stage.

Elric thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't either."

If Maelor had heard the exchange—coming from the two people he considered his greatest rivals—he might've coughed up blood on the spot. The fact that they didn't even recognize him would've hit harder than any sword.

The fourth round passed with little drama. Among the five who advanced was Roland, the so-called 'Sword Genius' of Altura Academy. Few dared to approach him—and those who did were swiftly and effortlessly defeated.

In the fifth round, the top-ranked student from Quarath Academy took the stage—and won with ease.

At first, no one knew who she was. Most didn't even realize Quarath had produced someone that strong, which was precisely why she drew the most challengers among the ranked participants. But one by one, those who rushed her were launched off the stage with brutal efficiency—most of them by a single kick.

It didn't take long for the crowd, and the remaining contestants, to realize that approaching this red-haired girl was a mistake if you wanted to have any hope of advancing.

"Who's that?" Elric asked, eyes narrowing as he watched her calmly exit the stage.

Neve, also watching her intently, said coolly, "Did you skip her? She should've been on that list."

"I didn't," Elric replied, frowning. "I went through the descriptions twice. There was no mention of a red-haired girl."

A flicker of unease crossed his face—along with a creeping suspicion that his new academy hadn't been entirely honest.

Blinking her gaze away, Neve said, "Just ask someone from our academy."

Good point, Elric thought, rising from his seat. His eyes scanned the crowd until he spotted a man in red robes sitting a few rows down.

Approaching quietly, he leaned in and whispered, "Hey, do you know who that red-haired girl from the last round was?"

"Hm?" The man turned his head, eyeing Elric with mild suspicion. But when he noticed the matching academy colors, he relaxed a little.

"You new?" he asked.

"Mhm," Elric nodded, still watching him closely.

"I see," the man said as realization dawned. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "She's the daughter of our dean."

Figures, Elric thought, nodding in thanks before heading back to his seat.

"So? Find out who she is?" Neve asked, her tone as even as ever.

Elric nodded. "The dean's daughter. From our academy."

Neve gave a silent, understanding nod, and the two sat in a brief moment of quiet—one that ended almost as soon as it began.

"The participants for Round Six, please make your way to the stage!" a voice called out.

"Don't kill anybody," Neve said, a faint trace of amusement in her voice.

Elric's lips twitched as he rose. Before heading off, he glanced over his shoulder and, mimicking Neve's signature deadpan tone, said, "I'm just helping them get Regeneration."

As he walked away, Elric heard a snort from Neve—quiet but unmistakable. It nearly made him burst out laughing, but he managed to contain it to a soft chuckle.

While making his way toward the stage, his eyes scanned the crowd—and landed on the man who had talked down to him during the preliminary rounds. A smirk tugged at Elric's lips.

This is going to be fun… for me.

Once on stage, a staff member quickly approached to check his number. The process was swift; within moments, all participants had been verified, and the staff retreated—leaving only one official stationed at the edge.

Clearing his throat, the man shouted, "Round Six—begin!"

Already knowing his target, Elric unsheathed his sword and sprinted across the stage, weaving smoothly between combatants already locked in battle. His eyes were fixed on a young man wielding a spear, dark-haired and tense—completely unaware of what was coming.

As Elric closed the distance to a few meters, he finally had a chance to study the man more closely. A name surfaced in his mind, and with it, recognition. This guy... he matches the description of William Green. The one rumored to be on the same level as Roland and Neve...

A smirk curled at the corner of Elric's lips as he pushed harder against the ground, his feet denting the stage with each powerful step. He shot forward like a bolt of lightning.

The sound of rushing wind alerted William, who turned just in time to see a fist coming at him, mere centimeters from his face.

A voice, smooth and low, whispered in his ear. "Remember me?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.