"32 seconds! Unbelievable! Contestant Roy cleared the stage in just 32 seconds!"
Roy looked back to find himself alone—apparently, he'd taken first place again.
"Impressive. The praise on Óðrerir was well-founded indeed."
At the one-minute mark, Ernest severed the branches of the armed unit on his side with a single sword stroke, becoming the second to pass and approaching Roy with a genuinely admiring smile.
"I never expected you'd be nearly twice as fast as me!"
"My techniques are just more suited for chaotic battles."
Roy remained unimpressed. Ernest simply hadn't mastered Perception. If he had, his clearance time wouldn't have been much longer. In one-on-one combat, especially between swordsmen, the effects of Perception were quite limited. One needed to master the subsequent three realms to gain a true advantage.
Besides, it was hard to say whether other schools didn't have similarly incredible techniques of their own.
Another dozen seconds later, Sylvia, puffing out her cheeks, claimed third place. She shot Roy and Ernest a resentful look.
"Skilled swordsmen really have it easy..."
Roy gave an awkward chuckle, while Ernest broke out in a cold sweat.
The rules of this event were indeed heavily biased toward swordsmen.
Sylvia's physical abilities and close-combat skills were by no means lacking—among the Six Flowers, she was undoubtedly top-tier. But compared to Roy and Ernest, who were practically at the pinnacle, she fell just short.
"Time's up! Congratulations to the eight contestants who have cleared the stage and advanced to the second phase! Though it's unfortunate, please quickly exit the arena. We've prepared consolation prizes—please collect them backstage! Without further delay, let's begin the second phase immediately!"
Just like that, only eight remained.
Roy scanned the remaining contestants. Zhao Hufeng and Irene were among them, along with others he didn't recognize but presumed to be top-ranked fighters from various academies.
"There were only ten Orga Luxes against thirty-one contestants, and the rule was to destroy one to advance. Naturally, the later it got, the easier it became. By the end, it was twenty-three people against two Orga Luxes, yet only eight made it through. The power of those units is terrifying!"
Roy silently calculated. An average Genestellar equipped with an Orga Luxe could instantly rival—or even surpass—the strength of a top-ranked fighter!
However, mastering the control of such floating artillery units was likely no simple feat.
Still, this proved that the world's technology advanced in a spiral rather than the nonsensical "older equals stronger" trope.
"The princess has arrived!"
While Roy was lost in thought, Ernest suddenly quipped with a teasing laugh.
Roy turned and followed his gaze upward to the stadium's second floor.
A dark-haired girl emerged from the spectator box, her face alight with delight as she made her way toward the stage. It was none other than Fan Xinglou—could the second phase involve her?
At the same time, another figure stepped out from the room.
She was a woman around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with striking features and remarkable beauty. Her simple, wrap-style clothing accentuated her toned and well-proportioned figure.
But what stood out most was the absurdly large necklace hanging from her chest.
It was no ordinary necklace—mechanical in design, with an enormous black gem embedded at its center, resembling the symbol of a one-eyed monster.
Roy stared at the necklace and inexplicably felt as though he was being watched by that very monster, as if it might leap out at any moment and crush his skull in its jaws.
The woman emerged from the same room as Fan Xinglou, her face cold and mechanical, devoid of any human warmth, as she walked toward the stadium exit.
Who was she?
Roy narrowed his eyes. She had come out of the same room as Fan Xinglou—did that mean they knew each other? Could she be another ancient monster from Fan Xinglou's era?
As Roy pondered, a trembling, excited voice rang out beside him.
"Ursula…!"
Sylvia's face lit up with joy. Without hesitation, she leaped off the stage, ignoring the uproar from the crowd, and chased after the woman.
Ursula?
Roy's mind stirred. He had heard Sylvia mention that name before—wasn't she the one who taught Sylvia to sing, who guided her in the ways of the Genestellar?
Her teacher?
But that woman didn't seem like the benevolent type…
Roy's thoughts raced.
Below the stage, in the audience seats, Okita stood up and sprinted after Sylvia.
"Listen up, brats! This old lady will be your opponent for the second round!"
At that moment, Fan Xinglou landed lightly at the center of the stage. She surveyed the seven fighters before her, her face breaking into a wild, predatory grin, brimming with ferocity and madness.
"No restrictions, no time limit. The first one to lay a hand on me wins!"
This was…
So very like Fan Xinglou.
Roy sighed inwardly, resigning himself to joining the others in ganging up on her.
But just as he was about to move—
His expression abruptly changed.
Without hesitation, he vaulted off the stage, completely ignoring Fan Xinglou's thunderous glare, and sprinted at full speed toward the corridor where Sylvia and Okita had disappeared.
The hallway was empty.
The woman with the massive black necklace stood shrouded in a hazy dark mist, a mocking smile on her lips as she gazed at the two girls before her.
Okita lay stiffly on the ground, eyes closed, not breathing—like a corpse.
Sylvia knelt beside her, her face frozen in shock, confusion, and dazed disbelief.
Roy cursed under his breath and lunged forward, slashing at the woman with the black necklace.
"Tch. One after another."
The woman's face twisted with irritation. The dark mist around her surged violently, swallowing the entire corridor.
By the time the mist dissipated, she was gone.
Roy didn't pursue her. Instead, he turned back to Sylvia and Okita.
"Are you alright?"
"..."
Sylvia seemed to slowly regain her senses only then.
She glanced at Okita's lifeless body, then wordlessly stood up, her gaze settling on Roy.
Her eyes held not a trace of warmth, her face dark with an unsettling intensity.
In just the few minutes they'd been apart, her demeanor had shifted so drastically it frightened Roy.
"...What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong."
Sylvia flashed Roy a smile—one utterly devoid of warmth.
"I just didn't realize before. But when I think about it carefully, there were always strange signs... I just subconsciously ignored them..."
She pointed at Okita's lifeless body on the ground, grinning like a madwoman on the verge of murder.
"Is this your puppet?"
***
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