“Let’s welcome our two finalists! Zeff Lou Roan! And Vichella Arleith!”

  Vichel and Zeff step onto the arena stage. Thunderous applause and cheers erupt from the audience. Jacelin shouts excitedly from the spectator seats beside Bertan.

  “Vicheeel! Zeeeeff!”

  Zoi and Yanzen also watch nervously from another side of the stands.

  Zeff’s smile grows wider than usual, as if his spirit burns even brighter at the thought of facing Vichel in the final round.

  “There is a slight change in the rules for the final match. Since the purpose of this battle is to evaluate the participants’ abilities as a whole, the Executioner Machine will be removed from the arena. The two finalists may fight to their fullest until one of their protective sheaths is completely gone.”

  In other words, the final match is purely a duel until one of the participants falls. Zeff and Vichel understand this clearly. They exchange a brief gaze.

  “Nice to meet you, Jacelin’s friend,” Zeff greets with a smile, lifting two fingers of his right hand. “Last year we met in the group C final, and now in the main final. You must have grown stronger.”

  Although Zeff’s attitude is friendly, the memory of her loss last year—being thrown out of the arena—still leaves Vichel with a bitter feeling, especially now that they meet again in the same tournament.

  “This time, I won’t let you throw me out of the arena again,” Vichel says firmly.

  Zeff responds with a relaxed smile,

  “In that case, I’ll think of another way.”

  Vichel wants to retort to that irritating remark, but the staff already direct them to their respective paths to enter the battle arena.

  From behind the glass window of the participants’ room, Tseryo watches Vichel and Zeff enter the battle arena. Who will emerge as the winner?

  .

  Set in a rocky area shaded by large trees, there is a wide path between two cliffs that are not too high. In the early afternoon, two horses gallop along it, kicking up fragments of dry soil and dust along the way.

  Liam and Cedric are the riders of the two sturdy horses. Liam is positioned slightly in front, while Cedric follows behind at a steady pace.

  As Liam said when choosing that quiet path to ride at high speed, the strides of the muscular horse he bought are truly swift. Liam keeps his gaze fixed ahead, while Cedric grins broadly, enjoying the rapid pace.

  There is a slight movement from the trees and bushes just passed by the two horses. Cedric glances in that direction for a moment while still riding at full speed. An ordinary person would likely think it is nothing more than the wind or a forest animal, but Cedric’s intuition tells him something is amiss.

  “You noticed it?” Liam’s voice comes from ahead.

  “I know,” Cedric replies. “Something has been following us for a while.”

  The horses slow their pace slightly so the two can communicate.

  “It seems there’s another path behind these trees. They’ve been watching us since the place where we ate.”

  Liam’s suspicion proves correct: several riders clad in black are trailing them, taking a hidden path through the trees.

  Cedric’s guess points to the assassins Liam mentioned earlier.

  Liam halts his horse. Cedric also stops, though he has no idea what his master is planning. There is no trace of worry on Liam’s face, even knowing that a group of assassins is targeting him.

  “Cedric, how fast can you run in your new clothes?”

  The question brings a puzzled look to Cedric’s face.

  “What do you mean? These are just ordinary clothes, not mage armor.”

  “If you had bought an elemental orb from the market, that pouch of coins would have been enough—and you would have been far more useful.”

  “Orb? Why are you only telling me this now? You told me to buy clothes, so of course I only thought of clothes!”

  Liam exhales with a disappointed look.

  “Your thinking isn’t what I expected after all.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Cedric clenches in irritation at the words. Liam continues with his command, still wearing that disappointed gaze.

  “Now be the decoy and run as fast as you can to the east.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Cedric dismounts. “What do you mean, a decoy?”

  “Just do it!”

  After stepping onto the path, Cedric turns east—toward nothing but wilderness—then braces himself and bursts forward at high speed, leaving streaks of red sparks in his wake.

  “What is he planning, sending me running like this? How could someone as strong as me be ordered around like a pet by that damned noble?”

  While running, Cedric glances back. His eyes widen in shock—Liam’s horse already empty. Liam himself is nowhere to be seen.

  “Where did he go?”

  Cedric keeps sprinting as ordered. Soon, he hears the footsteps of about three people trying to chase him from behind.

  “So this is what he meant by making me the decoy?”

  On purpose, Cedric continues running, allowing his pursuers to close the distance.

  Once he senses they are close enough, Cedric suddenly halts, spins around, and unleashes a massive burst of fire.

  The pursuers are caught off guard, stumbling back in shock as the flames lash out, even catching their clothes on fire. They scramble frantically to put it out.

  Cedric frowns in confusion.

  “Only two? I’m certain there were three chasing me earlier.”

  “Pathetic amateurs, daring to tail me!”

  The two pursuers are clad entirely in black, with masks covering everything but their eyes. They immediately take their stances, gripping sharp daggers—leaving no doubt they are assassins, ready to finish their target at any moment.

  “Where is your master? Speak!”

  “My master? They mean Liam? Ah, right… I’m his subordinate now.”

  A reality Cedric finds far from pleasant.

  “Why ask me? I clearly left him on his horse. Are your eyes blind?”

  “Don’t try to fool us!” one of the assassins, a woman, snaps. “We’re not the only ones here. More of our comrades will come soon, and they’ll slaughter you mercilessly if you refuse to cooperate.”

  “Answer quickly! Where did your master go?!”

  DASH!

  A heavy thud shakes the ground as the body of a large man—also clad in assassin garb—crashes down into the center of the clearing. His body is drenched in blood, motionless. The two assassins threatening Cedric tense up at the sight.

  “Were you looking for me?”

  Liam’s voice comes from behind, startling them both. No one knows when he arrived, but the calm aura he carries radiates a far more dangerous presence.

  “Your comrade refused to talk, so I had no choice but to dispose of him. A shame, really. Is the location of your hideout worth more than your lives?”

  There is no expression on Liam’s face as he utters the threat, as if ending lives were nothing but a trivial matter. The true nature of his elemental power remains a mystery even to Cedric.

  Seeing their burly comrade lying in a bloody heap at Liam’s hands, the assassins’ instincts scream that they are facing a dangerous target.

  The female assassin signals with her eyes to her partner. He instantly bolts, trying to escape in another direction—but Cedric’s kick comes faster. The man is slammed hard to the ground, pain searing through his chest.

  “Can I kill this one? We only need one to interrogate, right?” Cedric asks, pressing his foot down on the assassin’s body to keep him pinned.

  “Spare him. Later you can burn his fingers one by one if he refuses to talk,” Liam orders.

  Both assassins tremble in fear at Liam’s words. The female assassin suddenly removes her mask, revealing the face of the waitress from the tavern where Liam had eaten earlier.

  “Sir, we beg your forgiveness, please spare us—we were only paid to follow you.” Her expression is pitiful with fear, though in truth it is merely a trick to create a chance to escape.

  Liam recognizes her face.

  “You’re the waitress from the tavern, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I only disguised myself there so I could…”

  Liam suddenly steps closer. His hand moves as if to touch the assassin woman’s face. She stiffens in confusion—until his fingers brush against the hollow of her left ear, where a fresh splatter of blood clings, staining his fingertips.

  “Blood…” Liam’s voice is cold. “What did you do to the tavern keeper?”

  He recalls the old woman who had seemed uneasy while working earlier.

  The assassin woman freezes. “I-I…” Her mind races, scrambling for an excuse that might save her.

  But Liam speaks first.

  “You killed her because she discovered your identity, didn’t you?”

  The woman trembles, her fear deepening.

  “Someone paid you to watch me, and for that purpose you killed an innocent villager?”

  “I-I-it… it’s just the rule… of our organization…”

  “Ridiculous excuse!” Liam cuts her off, his tone dripping with disgust.

  Cedric can clearly see the fury burning behind Liam’s otherwise cold expression. His aura now radiates a terror far greater than when Cedric first met him.

  Liam fixes his piercing gaze on the assassin woman and gives a single command.

  “Kneel!”

  It feels as if an overwhelming pressure crushes down on her—the assassin woman trembles in terror, then collapses to her knees. Her face, pale as death, lowers in helpless submission.

  “The most basic rule, if you still consider yourselves human: never harm civilians in war. If you do, your dignity sinks lower than that of beasts, and such a useless head no longer deserves to remain in place.”

  Liam sweeps two fingers of his right hand in a sharp horizontal motion.

  A streak of golden-white light flashes past Cedric’s eyes, followed by a spray of blood. The woman’s head tumbles to the ground, her body collapsing beside it as a fresh pool of blood spreads quickly across the land.

  The assassin man turns deathly pale, horrified at how easily his companion was slain. Cedric remains silent, unable to find words for the shock pounding in his mind—Liam’s power, sharper than any sword, severing a human head as effortlessly as cutting wild grass.

  Cedric lifts his foot from the man’s chest. The burly assassin sits hunched, trembling as Liam’s footsteps draw closer, feeling as though his own head is next to be claimed.

  Liam gazes down at the cowering man.

  “I’m not one to show sympathy to enemies. Choose—cooperate with me, or join your comrade, but in a far more painful way.”

  The assassin immediately throws himself prostrate, forehead pressed to the ground. “I-I’ll cooperate! Please, spare my life…” His quivering voice betrays sheer terror—the very reaction Liam sought.

  “Cedric, let’s hold off on heading to the border. In the next few days, you’ll be fighting more assassins—get yourself ready. It’d be troublesome if I had to find a new aide.”

  “Hah, that’s what you’re complaining about?” Cedric’s face twisted in his usual annoyance. “You planning to wipe out their whole group to the root?”

  “I don’t want any problems left behind before leaving Carrion.”