In front of an orange-haired young lady, a young man with chocolate hair kneeled as though a knight in service to his princess.

But then, the princess turned and left.

Dylan's eyes were wide in disbelief, in desperate denial at what just happened.

This could not be happening to him.

Forget a 3-2 score. He couldn't even score a point and was defeated in less than thirty seconds.

His reintroduction, his chance at the princess's heart…

Lionbreaker could feel everything slipping away.

'No…' the word floated in his mind.

In bewildered despondence, he called out: "N-No, wait, Miss Lynn…"

The princess turned to his surprise and met his gaze.

Dylan's heart shattered into a million pieces.

Reflected in Lynn's eyes was the same hopeless indifference — one that made a small yet insurmountable distance between them.

It was a simple line that would be impossible to cross.

To the side, False Witness's facade cracked slightly, and he let out a rather hearty chuckle before managing to wrestle control back.

Only his underlings remained a bit more careful, though their suppressed glee was also all too obvious at that moment.

Dylan could consider himself lucky not to have noticed.

Meanwhile, Talon observed the goon squad, his eyes shifting between them and Daru.

They seemed a little too relaxed.

While the instructor couldn't deny that Zach was way more skilled than he was at the same age, his current swordsmanship was on a higher level than the youngster's, and he could more or less see that Zach's chances of winning against Daru Finnley were slim.

He could see the goon squad leader falling for the latter's superb techniques.

'Maybe he's not going all out yet?' was the only reason Talon could think of.

Either way, he'll find out soon.

The instructor waited until Dylan dragged himself off the dueling space — defeated, dejected, downcast, every word that meant down and sad.

But Talon didn't feel too bad for him.

There are winners and losers every day somewhere.

A young man's heartbroken case was way too insignificant for someone who had watched a few comrades lose their true lives because their family was relying on them and couldn't quit being a bladeborn, fighting till their final breaths despite having only one life left.

Ignoring the B-ranker, the instructor raised his arms, announcing:

"Class 70, semi-finals, second match, Daru Finnley versus Zachary Jambah."

The two competitors walked to their designated starting lines in the dueling space.

Strangely, there seemed to be no animosity in the air. It was as though the two's relationship was, at worst, neutral.

The two locked gazes.

Daru looked at Zach with indifference, and the latter back at the former with weird amusement.

It seemed that the goon leader had already thought of how he would be able to save face, perhaps more, based on the faint grin on his face.

The onlookers whispered among themselves. They, too, wondered what Zach was up to this time.

"Your true highness!" the goon leader suddenly began with an exaggerated reaction.

Zach had always been good at social matters, especially preserving face, farming aura, and other such things.

His nervousness at the thought of losing to the one person he could not read and hated quite deeply in class was well-concealed.

"What a showing earlier, huh? You hid yourself well, I must say. I don't dare call you dumb nicknames in Neo-Earth now."

The goon squad leader's words were so well-crafted and delivered that almost everyone watching immediately got the underlying meaning:

"Sure, I can acknowledge that you're peerless or whatever in Neo-Earth. But what about the Myriad Sword Realm? The Sword Trials, where one's swordsmanship would truly matter?"

It was as though everyone was given a subtle reminder that Daru was merely an F-ranker, and no matter how good he was in Neo-Earth, in the end, he would be left behind like his garbage of a sword.

But again, to his utter hatred, the trash didn't even respond to his provocations, merely warming up by swinging his wooden tachi a few times before striking a combat stance.

Daru had minimal interest in social matters and so was naturally impervious to Zach's high-level social maneuvers.

The people around him can think and believe what they want.

He didn't care.

Daru knew what he was capable of, and that he was having so much fun in the Myriad Sword Realm.

Moving towards his goal of being an excellent bladeborn, fighting strong swordspawns, rivals from other races, and many more...

Why should he pay attention to the boring, shallow, inaccurate opinions of others formed only based on what they can see on the surface?

Ignored, Zach fumed inwardly, but his exterior didn't crumble, only cracked a bit:

"Hey, hey, not even gonna respond to me now? That's cold, Finnley."

But Daru still didn't react, only waiting for him to strike a fighting pose.

Zach certainly lost some of his precious, well-preserved and carefully cultivated "aura" that day, and even some of his more sensitive underlings felt secondhand embarrassment.

His secret girlfriend, too.

Talon, on the other hand, couldn't help but admire how Daru dealt with the goon squad leader.

He literally did not say a single word and made Zach look stupid.

In the end, the goon leader could only shrug in a seemingly carefree manner, shaking his head as he finally entered a fighting stance.

Both sides were ready, and Talon didn't want to delay things further.

He jerked his arms up and declared: "Begin!"

Surprisingly, Zach didn't charge like everyone expected him to.

He was an all-rounder who was good in both offense and defense.

However, with his heavy sword, everyone believed he would have a higher chance at victory if he decisively took a risk and erupted in an all-out attack from the start of the match.

Sure, he might lose a point due to a reckless start, but at least the momentum would be his afterwards.

No one except his underlings understood his plan.

Like so, the match proceeded with a slow start as both competitors inched towards the other, carefully closing the distance.

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