Thank You,
Noble Tier: "IamUgoH"
For Becoming A Member On My Pa'treon. The Emperor Protect.
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Cheers erupted all around for Hess, who was still locked in battle on the screen. His opponent this round… was a member of the Empire Royal Family.
Sebastian studied the match closely, his sharp eyes scanning every move. After only a moment of judgment, he knew. This challenger was weaker than Hess. They relied heavily on experience, weaving around Hess's strikes rather than overpowering them.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, the cracks began to show. The royal member faltered, unable to withstand the mounting pressure.
With ruthless precision, Hess seized an opening and shattered their defense. At that point, the match was decided, and the royal opponent raised their hand in swift surrender.
Moments later, two figures materialized in the rest hall. One of them was Hess, a confident smirk tugging at his lips.
"How about that? I told you getting into the Top 1,000 would be a walk in the park." He flashed a triumphant smile at his companion… only to glance at Sebastian. The smile froze on his face.
"This guy… passed too?" His expression turned helpless. He dared not joke further and quickly left.
Sebastian, unfazed, ignored him entirely and returned his attention to the other matches. At this stage, most competitors were evenly matched, each fight a fierce struggle of skill and endurance.
An hour passed, and all matches concluded, sealing the fate of the participants. One thousand contenders advanced to the next round, while the remaining thousand were cast into the losers' bracket. Yet this round was far colder than the last.
Over twenty top-ranked competitors, some within the coveted top one hundred, fell to surprise defeats.
"The Group Star Competition is crawling with monsters," someone whispered nearby, awe in their tone. "Everyone's pulling out hidden cards. The power levels this round were insane."
"I watched almost all the matches," another added, shaking their head. "I thought I'd breeze through the next round, but now… I'm not so sure."
"Same here," a third chimed in grimly. "A few of them are top fifty material, maybe even top thirty."
A royal family core member sighed. "Outside the top ten, no one's safe anymore."
"Look at them," someone muttered, glancing at the leaderboard. "Not a single weakling left. The next round will be brutal."
"There are still hidden trump cards too," another said, voice tight. "Anything could happen."
"I just hope luck's on my side," a nervous competitor murmured. "Getting matched with someone that strong… terrifying."
The air in the rest hall grew colder with each word. What had been casual chatter turned into tense murmurs. Relaxed smiles vanished, replaced by grim determination.
The next round wouldn't be tonight; it would come the following evening, at precisely eight o'clock. With the day's matches concluded, Sebastian and every Planetary Lord were sent back to their homes.
Sebastian reappeared at his villa. For the rest of the day, he shut off his communicator entirely, cutting himself off from all disturbances. Prokopy, Clifford, and the others knew better than to intrude. It was also a deliberate measure to avoid unwanted attention.
On Greater Terra, time was slightly slowed, giving the Astra Militarum much-needed rest.
Meanwhile, outside the arena, chaos brewed. The shock upsets from the first day ignited fiery discussions across every platform. Forum traffic surged to record-breaking numbers. Sebastian's match against Jacobson, while competent, sparked little conversation compared to the storm swirling around Hope's Peak Academy.
For the first time, talk of Sebastian overshadowed even the Crown Prince himself. The freshman had become the academy's hottest topic. No one could have predicted this. Step by step, from the group stage to this very moment, Sebastian had carved his path. Now, only a single match stood between him and a coveted Top 1000 slot. Victory in the next round would cement his name among the stars.
Some even began whispering that Sebastian might one day rival the Crown Prince. Though still a fringe opinion, it was enough to shift attention his way. The spotlight narrowed, every eye trained on him, waiting to see if he could pull off a miracle. A first-year student, on the cusp of qualifying.
Even teachers and fans who once rallied behind the Crown Prince quietly changed allegiances. Tickets were exchanged. Now they would watch Sebastian's rise. Excitement rippled through the entire arena network, anticipation so thick it could be felt.
The day flew by in the blink of an eye. Soon, it was seven in the evening.
Sebastian, calm and composed, sat within his villa as the teleportation beam enveloped him once again, carrying him to the rest hall.
The atmosphere tonight was entirely different. Gone were the easy smiles and lighthearted laughter. Every competitor wore a mask of focus, eyes closed, meditating in silence.
An hour ticked away before a soft, melodic voice filled the chamber: "Tonight's matches will see the winners' bracket reduced from 1,000 to 500, and the losers' bracket settled. The qualifiers of the Stars Contest… will end tonight. Contestants, prepare yourselves. The lottery draw for both brackets will begin shortly."
A ripple passed through the hall. Heads turned in unison. Every gaze was fixed on the massive projection screen overhead. Fingers twitched. Fists clenched.
Every competitor prayed for one thing: a weaker opponent.