Chapter 436: Integrated Ranking (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 436: Integrated Ranking (3)
Just moments earlier.
As Raymon prepared for his match against Edwin Hector, the noble attending him offered a solemn warning.
"Lord Raymon. This match is more important than ever. Your opponent is Prince Edwin Hector. Historically, the bloodline of Hector has always been entangled with Valhalla, and now, another confrontation has been forced upon us. What do you think will happen if Valhalla loses? People will surely speak of our downfall and gossip that Hector might usurp our place."
Valhalla and Hector.
The two shared a deep, blood-stained history.
Back before Valhalla had even achieved the status of an empire, it had drawn the world's attention by defeating Hector, a major power at the time. It was the exact moment their positions reversed. Thus, the two nations were destined to be bitter rivals for generations, and they had clashed head-on once more during the Continental War. The result had been a victory for the Hector Kingdom. Because Edwin Hector had brought in the Sky Magic Tower and held out until the bitter end, Valhalla's prestige had plummeted to rock bottom.
If, by some chance...
...they were to lose on the stage of the ranking match as well, it was all too obvious what the world would think of Valhalla.
Raymon glanced toward his opponent.
"Do not worry. I am well aware of how important this stage is for Valhalla. To be honest, preparing for this tournament has been quite irritating. I acknowledge that Edwin Hector made outstanding contributions as a mage during the Continental War, but for him to challenge a stage meant for swordsmen is a blatant insult. He must be looking down on us, thinking he actually stands a chance in such a confined space."
He was a man of the older generation.
Back when Dmitry couldn't even dream of making a name for itself, Raymon's name had adorned the very top of the continental rankings.
For a man like him...
...prejudice against mages was inevitable.
He didn't deny their abilities, but everyone had their own domain. While mages shone when facing large numbers on a battlefield, absolutely no one could match the destructive power of an Aura Swordsman in a confined space. Therefore, he was deeply displeased. When he first heard the news of mages participating, and when he confirmed that the very person spearheading such an absurd idea was assigned as his first-round opponent...
...he had been furious.
Raymon intended to use this first-round match to violently demonstrate the difference between an Aura Swordsman and a mage.
To prove that each...
...had their rightful domain.
"Contestants, to your positions."
At the sound of the summons, Raymon stood up.
"It won't take long. Through this match, I will prove exactly why mages have historically never dared to covet the domain of swordsmen."
He stepped forward.
As he walked up to the stage, the Valhallan noble watched his retreating figure with eyes full of absolute trust.
He didn't doubt him for a second.
Raymon, at the very least, was a man who deserved such faith.
* * *
Raymon had a clear plan.
Since his opponent would actively utilize Memorize magic, Raymon planned to press aggressively from the very beginning. He would focus on defense just enough to exhaust all of his opponent's prepared spells. After a single minute, the mage would inevitably run dry. In a close-quarters battle where the situation shifted rapidly every second, and in such a confined space, even spells like Blink—which mages so proudly boasted of—would fail to display their true power.
Once he caught him...
...the match would be over.
He truly believed that. It was an irreversible, fatal mistake.
"Explosion."
Boom!
Whoosh!
Fire magic erupted.
As the searing flames surged, Raymon quickly lunged toward an area with less heat, but crimson, flickering spears of fire were already aiming at him from all directions. He inhaled sharply. Blocking the scorching air from entering his lungs, he doggedly pursued his opponent.
However...
"Explosion."
Whoosh!
Once again...
...flames surged right before his eyes.
If Edwin Hector were relying on Memorize magic, he should have run out of spells by now. Yet, he was pouring out high-circle magic as if he had skipped the casting process entirely. More than a minute had already passed. An ominous foreboding began to creep in. Realizing instinctively that something was terribly wrong, Raymon abandoned his initial plan. Protecting his body with Aura, he charged straight through a weak point in the flames.
'I'll end this quickly.'
Rumble!
Beyond the blazing inferno...
...he saw Edwin Hector.
Raymon's highly condensed Aura exploded, his blade slashing through the air to kill the mage in a single strike.
At that exact moment...
Flash.
"Blink."
Their paths crossed.
Raymon's sword tore through the empty space where Edwin Hector had just been. Edwin, having vanished into a dimensional rift, reappeared directly above his head. It was a shocking sight. Normally, Blink was used to create distance, but Edwin Hector had used it with paper-thin margins, maneuvering as if he were a swordsman himself.
And then...
"Flare."
Whoosh.
Roar!
Boom!
High-temperature flames erupted point-blank.
The close proximity meant it was infinitely harder to dodge, and Raymon knew he wouldn't escape unscathed. He pushed his Aura to its absolute limit. To withstand the 7th-circle Flare, he unleashed an explosive burst of Aura, simultaneously trying to charge through the blast to finish off his opponent.
Swoosh.
He broke through the flames.
Charging forward wildly, Raymon spotted Edwin Hector beyond the fire, already preparing yet another Flare.
'...What on earth is this?'
It was unnaturally fast.
No matter how perfectly he utilized Memorize magic, this made absolutely no sense.
Suddenly...
...a rumor came to mind.
The rumor that a Magic Revolution had swept through the magic community.
It was said to have originated from Roman Dmitry, just like the Aura Revolution, and was spearheaded by Dmitry and Hector. Raymon hadn't paid much attention to it. He hadn't believed that the fundamental nature of magic could change just because someone coined the term 'Magic Revolution.' That was his fatal mistake. Due to the Magic Revolution, mages had opened their Upper Dantians, and the development of the Upper Dantian had gifted them an incredibly powerful weapon.
Rapid casting.
It completely neutralized a mage's greatest weakness.
In the breathless, fast-paced rhythm of close combat, mages had finally gained a weapon to counter swordsmen.
No longer...
...did casting hold them back.
Meeting Edwin Hector's sharp gaze, Raymon foresaw exactly what would happen a second later.
'At this rate, I'll die.'
The raging flames.
He had no confidence he could withstand them again.
He realized that to survive, he must not take another step forward. He had to stop in his tracks.
He froze.
"...I surrender!"
He raised his hands.
Even as he gritted his teeth, his face twisted in resentment, he made his intention to yield perfectly clear.
Whoosh.
The flames flickered out.
Seeing Edwin Hector deliberately halt his magic, the referee, who had been closely watching the situation, shouted,
"Match 23, Edwin Hector wins!"
The first round.
At that shocking result, the entire arena erupted into an uproar.
* * *
A duel between a mage and a swordsman.
It was a subject of immense interest to the public.
Thus, this match had been the perfect stage to resolve everyone's doubts, but the result was so shocking that the spectators were left in utter disbelief. Only a select few had predicted Edwin Hector's victory. With Raymon so heavily favored to win, Edwin hadn't just beaten him—he had utterly crushed him with an overwhelming display of superiority.
Of course...
...there was also the element of complacency.
If Raymon had gone all out from the very beginning, the situation would certainly have been different. However, a duel between a mage and a swordsman was not typically decided simply by who landed the first strike. The mere fact that Edwin had seized the momentum and violently carried it to victory proved to the world just how much mages had evolved.
"Prince Edwin Hector is a genuine contender for the championship now. Since he took down Raymon like this, who knows what he'll show against the Flash of Dmitry or the Evil Ghost? And he hasn't even used the secret techniques of Phoenix yet."
All attention was focused on him.
Meanwhile...
...the other matches proceeded one after another.
Although opinions had been divided at first, no more shocking upsets occurred after Edwin Hector's match.
The swordsmen of Dmitry.
They overwhelmingly decimated their opponents.
Chris and Kevin defeated the top swordsmen of Frank and Kronos, respectively, while the other swordsmen of Dmitry thoroughly proved why they had been chosen as their kingdom's representatives. People shook their heads in sheer amazement. They knew Dmitry was strong, but they never expected them to advance without suffering a single defeat.
The sixteen representatives.
Some of them did get eliminated.
Yet, absurdly, they were not eliminated by other countries. They only lost during civil wars against their fellow Dmitry swordsmen.
A hundred percent win rate against outsiders.
People remarked,
"This makes it clear. While securing a spot in the top sixteen is important, any country that manages to win even a single match against Dmitry will earn immense honor. Dmitry has become that kind of absolute existence."
It was a sentiment strikingly similar to what Mendes had said.
Thus, the first day...
...of the first-round matches came to an end.
And the next day...
...the crowds flocking back to the arena began to buzz with intense excitement the moment they checked the second-round bracket.
* * *
The first match of the second round.
Chris stepped onto the stage.
As soon as this bracket was revealed, the audience showed immense interest in how the match would unfold.
It was only natural.
Although his opponent didn't possess the same prestige as the Flash of Dmitry or the Evil Ghost, he still enjoyed considerable fame within Dmitry itself.
"Waaaaaaah!"
"It's Volkan!"
"Go, Volkan!"
Chris's opponent...
...was Volkan.
A man of massive build stepped onto the stage, his cold expression completely devoid of any sense of camaraderie. Going back in time to when Roman Dmitry first conducted recruitment, Volkan was the one who had boldly taken the test first. Coming from a mercenary background, he had weathered all kinds of bloody hardships to grow into an outstanding swordsman.
He halted his steps.
Volkan looked at Chris and spoke coldly.
"Lord Chris. I have always hoped for an opportunity like this. A stage to prove that Dmitry has someone named Volkan, not just you or Kevin. In truth, didn't we need a clear reorganization of our internal hierarchy after the war ended anyway?"
Chris smiled.
Just as Volkan said...
...the situation had changed.
Those who used to quietly follow Chris had all achieved tremendous growth, creating the need for a stage to prove themselves.
In this new landscape...
...a new hierarchy was required.
If Chris showed even the slightest hint of weakness, Volkan was fully prepared to usurp him, regardless of their past relationship. The only person they blindly followed was Roman Dmitry. In a rapidly changing world, there was no reason to submit to someone weaker than oneself.
Chris spoke.
"I agree with you. If I lose, I will personally report the new hierarchy to His Majesty the Emperor."
"Excellent."
Shring.
He drew his sword.
No more words were needed.
The tension was palpable.
The referee, who had been closely watching the fighters, vigorously waved his flag.
Flutter.
"Begin!"
* * *
In another arena.
The matches were being held simultaneously.
As Kevin stepped onto the stage, he organized the upcoming bracket in his mind.
'Five more matches until I face Lord Chris. I must win all five to reach the finals.'
Chris and Kevin.
The two were in different blocks.
Due to the massive number of participants, the tournament had been divided into Block A and Block B. Despite the random draw, the two had ended up on opposite sides of the bracket. This left the spectators feeling somewhat impatient. Although everyone was absolutely certain that Chris and Kevin would meet in the finals, they would have to wait a few days to witness the highly anticipated clash.
The finals.
Just the thought of it made his blood boil.
Kevin had always coveted Chris's position.
He wanted to defeat Chris in front of the entire world and become the sword Roman Dmitry trusted the most.
'This ranking match was organized at Lord Chris's request, not mine. Since he knows exactly what I'm thinking, his intention must be to crush me with sheer power. I will never let that happen. I have lived every single day to the absolute limit for this very moment.'
For the past month...
...Kevin had entered closed-door training.
He had only briefly shown himself when Roman Dmitry bestowed their new swords. Otherwise, he had devoted his entire existence solely to training, pushing himself to a degree that made others shake their heads in awe. To him, nothing was more important than standing by Roman Dmitry's side. When he saw his family living happily, and when he heard the news that his only younger sister was entering the Academy, Kevin only wished to become an indispensable existence to Roman Dmitry—the man who had completely transformed his life.
Chris was...
...a good superior and an outstanding comrade, but to Kevin, he was a clear rival.
He could not lose.
Radiating an intense, bloodthirsty desire to win at all costs, Kevin stood on the stage with a frigid expression.
"Wooooooah!"
"What a lineup for the second round!"
The crowd went wild.
It was only natural.
The second round.
Kevin was already looking beyond it, but the opponent standing right before him was currently being hyped as a prime candidate for the championship.
'Edwin Hector.'
The handsome, red-haired man.
He was his second-round opponent.
A clash between championship contenders.
Kevin's gaze turned ice-cold as he stared down his opponent.