"Uhm, no...."
The silhouette seemed to hesitate for a moment before quickly regaining its composure.
"Rather than not existing... it's more that you're not supposed to be here right now."
Through its mask, I could make out the white of its pupils staring directly into my eyes. That gaze sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me of my encounter with that creature in the forest.
"Haven't you had enough?"
The silhouette took a step toward me.
Instinctively, I stepped back as well. Since it didn't stop, I kept retreating until my back hit the wall, leaving me nowhere else to go.
"Wouldn't you rather do something else?"
The silhouette kept drawing closer.
"We didn't think it would be this effective."
I had no idea what it was talking about.
"It's time someone pulled you out of your stupor."
Now less than a meter away from me, the silhouette reached out toward my face.
"Kael!"
At that moment, Lisa's voice echoed through the corridors.
"Tch一"
The silhouette glanced toward the direction of Lisa's voice and clicked its tongue.
"I'll come back for you."
The instant it finished speaking, the silhouette broke apart before my eyes, vanishing like a gust of wind, as though it had never been there.
"Kael!"
Lisa burst into the room, followed by my uncle's guards.
"You scared us. Someone said they saw you chasing someone suspicious."
Lisa firmly grabbed my face with both hands, inspecting me from every angle.
"Are you alright?"
"Mmph一"
I answered as best I could despite the pressure of her grip squeezing my cheeks.
She let go and stepped back, staring at me with unmistakable concern.
"Are you sure?"
I smiled faintly. She always had to overdo it.
"Yes."
"Young Master, are you alright?"
"Were you hurt?"
My uncle's soldiers rushed over and bombarded me with questions. Apparently, they had grown attached to me as well.
It felt nice to know that people actually cared about me.
"Let's head back outside. They'll be announcing your next match soon."
Right.
I had completely forgotten.
I was still in the tournament.
It wasn't often that I won anything, so I wasn't used to receiving this much attention.
I met Lisa's gaze.
"Yeah."
I followed after her, while the soldiers trailed behind us through the stadium corridors.
I didn't know if it was simply because I wasn't alone this time, but the long hallway felt much warmer than before.
As soon as we stepped back into the stadium, the roar of the crowd hit me.
Applause.
Cheers.
Shouts.
For a few moments, I almost felt as though nothing had happened, as if that strange encounter had been nothing more than a bad dream.
Even so, I discreetly glanced toward the upper levels of the coliseum.
The balconies.
The private boxes.
The upper walkways.
No black silhouette.
I sincerely hoped I'd never see him again.
I turned my attention back to the central arena.
The tournament had never stopped.
For the tens of thousands of spectators, one match simply followed another.
One winner replaced one loser.
Then the cycle repeated.
I returned to my place against the wall reserved for the participants.
To my left, a red-haired man clenched his teeth as he watched the arena.
To my right, a young woman murmured something under her breath with her eyes closed.
Judging by her clasped hands, she was probably praying.
It was fascinating to see the diversity of cultures and traditions among all the competitors.
Proof that this event truly brought together every people of the Tower.
The referee raised his voice.
"Next match!"
Two new competitors stepped into the arena.
The first wielded a long spear.
The second carried two short swords.
The fight lasted barely two minutes.
The spearman dominated the opening exchanges thanks to his reach.
Then the swordsman finally slipped past his guard.
Three strikes.
The fourth reached his throat.
The referee intervened before the blade could go any farther.
Victory.
The audience applauded the winner as the healers entered the arena.
Moments later, one fighter left on a stretcher while the other walked out victorious.
Already, the next competitors were entering.
The spectators watched the fights.
Meanwhile, I focused almost entirely on the fighters themselves.
Some of them—
No, most of them—
were stronger than I was.
I analyzed their control over ether, the way they moved, the way they dodged, hoping to learn as much as possible in case I ended up facing one of them later.
Watching them fight, I finally began to understand why Doran had insisted so much on duels.
Perfect technique meant nothing if your body refused to act.
"Kael!"
I immediately turned toward the referee.
My name.
Already.
I exhaled slowly to steady my breathing before stepping away from the wall.
My opponent was a man in his forties.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
A long graying beard covered half his face.
He carried a massive war hammer whose head was nearly as large as my torso.
The moment he saw me approach, he burst into laughter.
"So you're the one who beat Roderick?"
I simply nodded.
"Hah! Don't make me laugh! Hahahaha!"
He spun his hammer.
"I hope you can prove it wasn't just a fluke."
The referee raised his hand.
"Begin!"
I didn't wait for my opponent's first move.
I charged him immediately.
The hammer came crashing down.
The force of the swing swept through my hair as I slid to the side.
The arena floor cracked beneath the impact.
I lunged forward again.
Now that his hammer was buried in the ground, it would be much harder for him to defend himself.
I struck.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
His guard remained solid despite being thrown off balance.
"You're a nimble little bug, aren't you?"
His hammer swung again.
I barely avoided it, the edge of the hammer scraping across my arm.
A thin stream of blood escaped the wound and ran down my forearm.
I had to change my rhythm.
I deliberately stepped back.
He immediately chased after me.
Suddenly, I spun around to face him.
Seeing me coming, he raised his weapon.
Unfortunately for him...
He raised it just a little too high.
An opening.
[The skill 'MONARCH'S FLAME' (Lv.5) has been activated.]
Heat surged through my arms.
My sword accelerated violently.
Clang!
The hammer was knocked aside by the force of my enhanced strike.
I pivoted, my feet firmly planted on the dusty ground.
Then I leapt forward and slammed the pommel of my sword into his face.
His nose cracked, and his legs buckled, sending him crashing onto his back.
Before he could recover his senses, the flat of my blade stopped against his throat.
Silence fell over the arena before the referee finally raised his hand.
"Victory goes to Kael!"
I immediately deactivated my skill.
The heat vanished.
My arms felt heavy.
But far less than before.
I had clearly begun to get used to it.
Little by little...
I was growing stronger.
Habit is a frightening thing when you think about it.
Even pain eventually becomes ordinary.
After my match, the fights continued one after another, and the number of remaining participants quickly dwindled.
Twenty.
Sixteen.
Twelve.
Then eight.
With every round, the remaining competitors seemed more dangerous.
Victories became shorter.
More brutal.
More decisive.
No one wanted to reveal more of their abilities than absolutely necessary.
The Prince of Uruk, however, remained an enigma.
He won every one of his matches with unsettling ease.
Never more than three strikes.
Never a single wound.
Never the slightest hint of emotion.
Several times, I caught Aldric watching him.
For a long time.
As though he were waiting for something.
The final quarterfinal match came to an end.
The system shimmered above the stadium.
A massive luminous window appeared overhead.
***
ELIMINATION TOURNAMENT
Remaining Participants: 4
***
The names slowly appeared.
The Prince of Uruk.
A bespectacled man in his thirties.
A young woman no one had expected to make it this far.
And me.
The stadium erupted into applause while I remained silent.
Without even realizing it...
I had reached the semifinals.