Chapter 106
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: Tournament (2)
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The tournament, a major event in the Labyrinth City, was nominally open to anyone who held adventurer qualifications.
They investigated each adventurer's labyrinth exploration records and divided them into groups based on skill: Group A for those who had reached floors 1 through 5, Group B for floors 6 through 10, and so on. Each group competed separately.
However, while beginner adventurers might participate freely, intermediate adventurers and above rarely signed up.
"You're our Spearsmanship Guild's representative! Go win the whole thing!"
"At least make it to the semifinals! Otherwise, you're out of the Hassan Guild!"
"On the honor of the Temple of Justice, I will claim victory!"
By the time adventurers reached intermediate level or higher, almost all belonged to some organization.
Most were affiliated with guilds, and tournament rules included a clause prohibiting members of the same guild from competing in the same bracket to prevent any potential foul play.
As a result, each guild sent out their strongest representatives, naturally raising the overall level of participants.
"Should I enter the tournament too?"
"Don't even think about it. That's where the monsters compete. The Swordsmanship Guild and Martial Arts Guild send their handpicked elites, or you get those stagnant veterans who've camped on a single floor for years honing their skills."
Gradually, the tournament shifted from measuring individual adventurer prowess to a battle of guild pride. Consequently, independent adventurers became even rarer.
And this year's tournament...
"Is this really okay?"
"What?"
"The tournament. Won't people say it's unfair? It's basically all famous guild reps gobbling up the spots."
"So what? Those guys earned their strength through effort."
"Even so, this year feels extreme. Senior, check this out."
"Huh? Group C participant list? Why are you reading... Oh, damn. Yeah, this is bad."
The two Labyrinth Guild staff members handling tournament registrations were stunned by the lineup for Group C among the applicants so far.
"Whoa... Swordsmanship Guild, Spearsmanship Guild, every temple sending one rep each, and what's this? Rogue Guild? They're entering too? Jeez."
"Forget those. They're impressive, but the crown jewel is this one."
"Huh? These are already big names... Wait, what? No way. Is this for real?"
"Yes! The 'Leo' himself is entering Group C!"
"What the hell? Why is the Water King's disciple in Group C? Someone like him belongs in Group D! Hell, even there he'd sweep to the semis... or the finals!"
They gawked at the name "Leo" sandwiched among them.
Tsk tsk... Poor souls in Group C. Though the guilds' rising stars might have a shot...? Sigh. Anyway, betting house on the way home...
"Excuse me."
"Y-Yes?"
The staff, whispering among themselves, snapped to attention at the voice of a man who had silently appeared before them.
"Is this the registration desk?"
"Y-Yes, it is. So... Yes, entry fee received... Intermediate adventurer... deepest floor: 15? Alright... You're placed in Group C."
"Thank you. Then..."
A bit flustered but staying composed, they verified the adventurer's license he handed over and processed his entry. Once it was done and he left, the two offered silent condolences to the man who had just passed.
"Tsk tsk... Another one for Group C."
"And get this—he's independent."
They brushed off the independent adventurer and, bored, started chatting about the other entrants.
"Even guilds I've never heard of are sending tons."
"Perfect chance to raise their name. I saw one with a weird name too."
"Oh? What was it?"
"Uh... Earth Guild, I think? But what's 'Earth' mean?"
The Labyrinth City's tournament divides participants into Groups A through F based on their skill levels.
Group A for floors 1-5, Group B for 6-10, calibrated against the labyrinth's difficulty to match similar strengths for fair fights.
I was assigned to Group C— for those active around floors 11 through 15.
I was worried they might stick me in Group D...
I didn't know the exact criteria, but Group C was a relief. My goal was the championship.
'If you win the tournament, I'll grant your request.'
Vivian's words rang clear in my mind. She'd promised to honor any request that wasn't excessively unreasonable if I took the title.
I didn't expect her to swear on her mana...
It wasn't just words—she'd bound it with her magic. Meaning, anything short of her definition of "unreasonable" was fair game.
Naturally, my goal became tournament victory. And to win...
'Get as strong as possible.'
With resolve, I stepped into my training ground. I had new mana techniques from Vivian, but they still needed work.
"Welcome, young... Ah, it's you!"
...Ahem. This was the most efficient growth method for me.
While Ian pursued his "training," the other tournament entrants prepared in their own ways.
The Labyrinth Guild staff did the same...
"Cain!!!"
A booming shout shattered the door to the Swordsmanship Guild master's office.
Cain impassively bisected the flying door panel.
From the dust emerged a lion beastkin with a flowing white mane, laughing heartily as he shoved aside the blocking guild members and approached Cain.
"...What brings you, Leonhardt?"
"Haha! Do I need a reason to visit a friend? Ah, you lot—over there. You've all improved a lot."
With a wave, the guild members blocking Leonhardt shook their heads ruefully and left the master alone with him.
Why does he always smash the door?
I told you, use cheap ones for the master's office.
Even so, it's the master's office!
"Hahat! Such lively bunch!"
"Pay for the door on your way out. State your business and go."
Ignoring Cain's icy tone, Leonhardt plopped into a seat and got to the point.
"Nothing major. Your Swordsmanship Guild's sending reps to the tournament, right? Anyone in Group C?"
"...Probably."
"Is it your disciple?!"
"No."
"Phew... Shame."
Ignoring Leonhardt, Cain focused on his paperwork until finally looking up directly.
"...Shame?"
"My disciple's entering this time. Group C. Would've been a great matchup if yours was there too."
"You know I no longer..."
"Ah, right, sorry. No more disciples, was it?"
Leonhardt laughed boisterously, but a hint of bitterness tinged his voice.
His rival friend still couldn't forget his disciple—his child.
"No point sticking around then. Unless you've trained someone worthy... no one in your guild could match my disciple."
Despite the deliberate taunt, Cain had already turned back to his papers.
"........."
Leonhardt swallowed his rising bitterness, gazing at Cain's back.
Still haunted by guilt, old friend...
Memories surfaced: his disciples clashing with Cain's, trading wins, him barging in to tease or rant.
Cain had always been stony, but he'd meet Leonhardt's eyes and crack the faintest smile when praising his own disciple...
Swallowing his bitter smile, Leonhardt turned to leave, but...
"Don't be too sure."
"...?"
Cain's voice from behind made him whirl around, but Cain was already buried in papers again.
"...Ha... Haha! You're right! Too early to say!"
Unable to hide his joy, Leonhardt laughed genuinely this time.
Tossing repair money to one of Cain's familiar disciples, he raced back to his guild, eager to drill his own even harder.
...Do you have one, Cain?
Long ago, boasting about his disciple, Cain had cut him off:
'Haha! My disciple this time... Anyway, no one in the tournament can beat him...'
'Don't be too sure.'
'...What?'
Same words. And that tournament, his disciple lost to some elf man.
Do you have one, Cain? A disciple?
Maybe not a full disciple— he'd have heard otherwise. But those words meant...
'At least someone you've given pointers to.'
In a much smaller guild house compared to the Swordsmanship or Martial Arts Guilds, two people conversed.
"Guild master. You really want me to enter?"
"Why? Don't want to?"
"Of course not. But why not send other seniors? They could aim for Group D or E."
"They're busy. Plus, your juniors are in A and B."
The guild master woman was assigning a mission to the black-haired guild member.
"Goal's the win. Victory gets us face time with the committee."
"Got it. Easy sweep."
"...Don't get cocky. Rely too much on your skill and you'll..."
-Thud!
"........."
Watching the man bolt from the office mid-sentence, the guild master rubbed her forehead.
"Hah, what a stress..."
Shed taken him in as a compatriot, and this moron joins the guild. Decent skill, but classic idiot mistaking himself for the protagonist because of it.
Still, that skill could carry Group C... maybe.
"Not holding my breath."
Having issued the orders without much hope, the woman in the Earth Guild master's office sighed, homesick for her homeland.