Most of the people here were determined.
That was something I had underestimated.
To be honest, I had mostly come here to make myself useful to my uncle.
I wasn't the kind of person who had a will of his own. I followed the flow, went wherever I was needed.
My hand tightened around my tunic.
Eliot, who had radiated a threatening aura just moments ago, now lay motionless on the arena floor.
His opponent left to the applause of the crowd.
Several stretcher bearers came to retrieve him and carry him away.
The matches continued one after another.
All of the fighters seemed to have complete mastery over their respective arts.
Every match ended relatively quickly, but there was one competitor who finished all of his fights in only a few seconds.
Every time the Prince of Uruk faced an opponent, they were defeated in just a handful of moves.
And yet, when we had fought, I hadn't felt like he was holding back against me.
There had to be something else.
"Kael!"
The name called out by the system pulled me from my thoughts.
I headed toward the arena at a brisk pace.
The blazing sun dazzled me as I stepped out from the shadows cast by the walls at the edge of the coliseum.
For a few seconds, I had to squint to properly make out my surroundings.
The roar of the stadium seemed even more deafening from the center of the arena.
Tens of thousands of people were all looking in my direction.
I felt my throat tighten.
My boots echoed against the stone slabs as I walked toward the center of the arena.
With every step, I could feel eyes settling on me.
The nobles in their private boxes.
The spectators in the stands.
The other participants lined up near the walls.
They were all watching me.
I kept my gaze fixed ahead.
Don't think about what might happen if I lose.
When I finally reached the center of the arena, a new window appeared in the sky.
***
FIRST ROUND
Kael [Britain]
V/S
Roderick [Aster]
***
Murmurs immediately spread through the stands.
I slowly raised my eyes toward my opponent.
He looked to be in his forties.
He was tall and broad-shouldered.
His brown hair was tied back, and several scars crossed his face. A long sword hung at his waist, its guard bearing the emblem of House Vane.
A man accustomed to battle. That was the impression he gave me.
He was observing me as well.
His eyes traveled up and down my body.
They stopped on my face.
One second.
Two seconds.
Then a faint amused smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
I knew that look.
The look of someone who had just decided I wasn't a threat.
He calmly walked to his starting position and assumed his stance.
The referee raised a hand.
"The rules remain unchanged."
His voice echoed throughout the arena.
"Surrender."
He raised one finger.
"Inability to continue fighting."
A second.
"Or referee decision."
A third.
"Any intentional killing will result in immediate disqualification."
The referee then stepped back several paces.
Silence gradually began to fall over the stadium.
I felt my heart begin to race.
Each beat seemed to echo within my chest.
Across from me, Roderick casually rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
His smile had not disappeared.
"You're the boy from Britain, aren't you?"
I didn't answer.
He seemed to find that amusing.
"Don't worry."
He shrugged lightly.
"I'll be careful not to injure you too badly."
A few laughs broke out in the stands.
I clenched my teeth.
The referee finally lowered his hand.
"Begin."
The moment the signal was given, Roderick drew his sword.
His blade left its scabbard with a metallic hiss.
I immediately assumed a guard stance, my sword pointed in his direction.
My muscles were tense.
My legs ready to move.
Surprisingly, Roderick didn't charge.
He advanced slowly.
Calmly, he walked toward me.
I felt a drop of sweat slide down my temple.
[Be careful.]
I know.
My eyes remained fixed on his shoulders.
His hips.
His feet.
Doran had repeated dozens of times that an attack always began with the body before it reached the sword.
So I watched.
I waited.
Roderick took another step.
Then another.
And suddenly...
He vanished.
My eyes widened.
The next instant, his sword was already in front of me.
Instinctively, I raised my own, but it was too late. My footing wasn't stable enough.
CLANG!
The impact traveled up my arms like a hammer blow.
I felt my wrists creak.
My body slid several meters backward across the stone.
The stadium immediately erupted into exclamations.
I barely managed to regain my balance.
My hands and arms trembled, still aching from the attack.
Roderick, meanwhile, remained perfectly still.
As though he hadn't just crossed several meters in a fraction of a second.
However, his smile had disappeared, replaced by mild surprise.
"Oh."
His eyes narrowed.
"You blocked it."
He spun his sword lightly.
"It was close, but you managed to parry me."
I didn't have time to respond.
This time, I felt something.
A warmth.
Faint.
But undeniably there.
Deep within my chest.
Like an ember slowly awakening.
A translucent window briefly appeared at the edge of my vision.
[You are facing a superior opponent.]
[Condition detected.]
Then the letters began to tremble.
As though something was trying to write itself.
As though the system itself was hesitating.
And for the first time since the tournament had begun...
I felt like I could win.