Aaron sat alone in the chairman's booth, a slow and solemn silence engulfing the empty room as he stared at the glass barrier separating him from the arena.

  Previously, the three Kings and the guildmaster had occupied this chamber; however, now that the evening had come, they had ventured off to discuss in private.

  Groaning, he leaned backwards in the leather recliner, feeling the gentle hum of the specialized forcefield that wrapped around the viewing box.

  When imbued with mana like he was doing now, a soundproof, bulletproof barrier would seal the room off from the arena below, effectively giving him his own private space.

  “Are you back to talking yet?”

  He paused, waiting for a response that came soon after.

  Penelope’s voice rose up calmly, a teasing tone hidden behind her words.

  “Very funny…”

  Summoning the blade into the physical world from wherever it existed otherwise, he held the hilt tight, staring at its pulsating glow.

  “Raphael and Ezra are up next. Now, it should be a simple win for Ezra with his complete and total immunity to mana, correct?”

  There was a beat of silence before the woman replied, her hesitation evident to Aaron, who exhaled lightly.

  The blond boy shook his head, his focus turning away from the weapon and towards the arena that flashed with gold and black tinges of magic, the colors representing each of the two contestants.

  “Then why don’t I feel like Raphael is at a disadvantage…”

  Total darkness consumed the stadium, then, in a brilliant flash, a fireball of radiance exploded in the center.

  “PLEASE WELCOME CHALLENGER RAPHAEL VON STEINFESTE AND CHALLENGER EZRA FLOCK TO THE TOURNAMENT!”

  The announcer roared over the radio, deafening any conversations being held around not just the massive arena, but the entire world.

  As the Marshal matches weren’t pre-approached for broadcast, they were only showcased on local waves; however, for the Exam rounds, they had obtained global rights.

  Therefore, with a delay of five seconds, the entire world that tuned into frequency eleven point nine would be able to learn the events of the tournament.

  Such a widespread broadcast had never happened before, creating a stir in every sea that housed people.

  In the Sea of Chains, pirates gathered in bars, taking bets on who would win, while in the Sea of Songs, musicians performed a chorused recount of any announcement.

  Far to the East in the Sea of Wishes, conclaves were held by the highest members of the five churches, and the Pontiff herself placed a small handheld radio in her pocket to listen.

  Buried deep in various settlements in the Sea of Polar Storms, temples full of monks used their yearly break from their solitude to enjoy the competition.

  Even in the highest peaks of the Sea of Souls, where the lost city of Dendrali hung from its mountainous perch, the most ancient of communicators allowed the signal to transform into words.

  Never before had any event, whether tournament or otherwise, commanded such attention across the world.

  The only other days in history to gather such a widespread audience were the burning of the Library of Nautilus and the disappearance of the First King himself.

  And as the first two challengers entered the stadium, the crowd roared in excitement with such ferocity that Aaron wondered if the sound barrier around his chamber would hold.

  “CAN YOU HEAR ME, WORLD!?”

  The audience screamed louder, the turquoise-eyed boy alone in his booth forced to listen to it all as he waited for the match to begin.

  “STARTING IN TEN SECONDS, THE FIRST MATCH OF THE LISPENTINE CHALLENGER TOURNAMENT SHALL BEGIN! HOLD FOR FIRE!”

  Lights blazed to maximum, and cannons were turned upward into the sky, the first of ten shots being fired.

  One barrage was fired, marking ten seconds.

  Another, marking nine.

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  Each time, Aaron clutched his blade tighter, feeling increasingly more tempted to turn on his Mana Vision so he could observe the upcoming spectacle in even greater detail.

  Deciding that it was worth the risk without the Sea Kings around, he tapped his temples, zoning in and feeling his body descend into a state of total concentration.

  He felt as if he was on that battlefield itself, beside each of the challengers who were now locked in a spiral around each other, waiting, and watching.

  As the tenth shot lit up the night sky like a firework, the two boys vanished before the crowd's eyes, engaging in fierce combat right from the start.

  Aaron’s mouth fell open as he traced each precise movement, their speed less than even half of the earlier Marshal’s yet still enough to escape the sight of regular citizens.

  Ezra struck first, a devastating elbow aimed at Raphael’s jaw that would’ve sent any normal man reeling backwards.

  However, the white-haired noble predicted the attack and raised his guard, receiving the strike with his forearm before sending a kick towards Ezra’s lower calf.

  Sparks flew as their vambraces collided, and the black-haired boy dodged the kick, immediately leaping backwards, alarmed by a shout coming from his opponent’s lips.

  Instead of his brilliant metal staff that he once wielded, a bo-staff of molten light appeared in a flash.

  Its tip burned with the radiance of the sun, blinding Ezra, who barely avoided its long reach, inching away on his toes.

  In one swift motion, he drew his blade, and the seal answered at once, summoning fiery chains that leapt outward like serpents.

  Each strand of red flame sought to smother out the light around Raphael’s weaponry, yet, much like the Sage Marshal's , the bo absorbed the fire without hesitation.

  Ezra’s expression visibly dropped, but he did not falter, seamlessly shifting to another strategy he had prepared beforehand.

  In the booth above, Aaron watched in awe as the two warriors, his fellow exam-takers, traded blows in quick succession, the scene engraving itself deep into his mind.

  If the black-haired thief threw a punch, the noble would block it without a mistake, and come back with an instant counterattack, only to split apart empty air where his opponent used to be.

  They moved in perfect tandem, a clockwork machine functioning at its optimal balance point.

  Tightening his hands into fists, he buried himself back in his Mana Vision, feeling the battle once again.

  Ezra slid across the tough sand, making use of the special coating that covered the arena’s surface to reduce the friction, allowing him to slice Raphael’s left heel in one sharp arc.

  The white-haired boy did not scream or even grimace from the pain, simply whipping his staff around and slamming the butt of the tool into the black-haired boy’s calf.

  『Inferno』

  Aaron’s mind instantly clouded over, barrier after barrier forging an iron-clad defense in reaction to the trace of something divine he could sense within the chaotic net of magic twisting all over the stage.

  The crowd itself fell into immediate silence, the announcer and commenters following suit.

  A tornado of flame flooded the battlefield, hiding both boys from view as if they were mere firewood in the blaze.

  Alarmed murmurs erupted across the stadium, some spectators half-rising from their seats to try and look past the bright haze.

  Gritting his teeth to get his defensive measures under control, the blond boy doubled the amount of mana supplied to his Mana Vision, allowing him to pick apart the threads beyond the fire.

  The figure he assumed to be Ezra was standing, sword in hand, swinging wildly at the flames, and his lips were moving as if he was saying something, but the words could not be heard in the crackling of the magic.

  Raphael, on the other hand, was moving like a cheetah, vanishing and reappearing at random positions to strike at his opponent.

  After a clean strike to his back, the black-haired boy slammed his sword into the ground, causing the seal-enhanced weapon to explode in a violent burst of mana, jagged pieces of steel flying in all directions.

  Using the explosion to his advantage, he manipulated the rampaging mana using the artifact that also powered his now destroyed sword and managed to disperse the blazing around them.

  The crowd stirred again as most spectators struggled to understand what they had just witnessed.

  But even though the hijacked mana successfully vanquished the raging spell, it was already too late, since Raphael’s mouth was already moving, chanting faster than Ezra could dodge.

  『Hymn of Rock』

  Massive pillars of packed earth erupted from the arena floor, encasing the black-haired boy in a stony box.

  Several loud gulps echoed through the audience, the air thick with tension.

  Without his weapon in hand, all the trapped boy could do was slam his fists into the wall, creating numerous cracks and breaks in its defense.

  During that time, the white-haired noble aimed his bo-staff of light towards the prison he had constructed, the entire arena holding their breath as they waited.

  『Formless Bullet』

  There was an audible pop that shot through the entire stadium as a miniature ball of wind condensed itself into a mass less than a particle of dust.

  Then, it fired straight, piercing through the rock and digging into Ezra’s shoulder with pinpoint accuracy.

  Aaron furrowed his brow immediately, a cold chill freezing every drop of blood throughout his body as he came to a slow realization.

  The turquoise-eyed boy watched as the movements of his black-haired friend became sluggish, crimson liquid dripping down his side.

  Without blinking an eye, Raphael readied another strike, planning to completely cripple the bleeding boy with a bullet through his leg, ending the fight.

  He was halfway through the chant when the very same rocky barrier he had constructed shot back at him, a boulder the size of a person slamming into his chest.

  The noble flew backwards, nearly colliding with the arena’s edge and therefore forfeiting the fight without any second chances.

  Cheers clashed with shocked gasps as the balance of the fight seemed to take a sudden turn.

  As he picked himself up, Raphael’s golden eyes darted around in search of what had just hit him, only to fall on his opponent, who stood smiling in the wreckage of rock.

  Within Ezra’s hands, there was an empty pouch, the very same one that had stored the mana that fueled his sword seal.

  In a moment of desperation, he had popped the cap and drank the remaining traces of the substance within.

  When the mana came into contact with his mana-immune cells, a strong adverse reaction occurred within his body, triggering a mass ejection of the volatile mana particles.

  Using that to his advantage, he practically blew himself up, causing the earth around him to break at the critical moment.

  His body looked sickly, with bruised muscles and gaping cuts criss-crossing his skin; however, he laughed quietly, holding his hands out in front of him.

  “I dunno how the hell you hit me, but I ain’t gonna let this one slide.”

  Raphael’s eye twitched, his staff taking aim once again, but before he could fire, Ezra was there, his hand whacking the light-covered weapon away.

  “Get serious, Mr. Noble. Your flashy spells ain’t gonna do nothin.”