Chapter 107
Chapter 107
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: Tendal Martial Tournament
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Tendal Martial Tournament.
This event, held steadily every year, had drawn a massive crowd once again.
And among the participants...
"Look over there. That's the guy, right? The one who took down Marcon."
"I heard his registered name is Havel."
"Hope we don't end up in his group."
Havel's ears were practically ringing from all the voices mentioning him.
What was with all the interest?
They should focus on their own business instead of chattering nonstop about others.
"At this point, even the Five Great Families must have caught on that it wasn't Memento Mori who climbed the Tower, but you, Sir Havel."
Then Elasia, standing beside him, spoke up.
She had overheard the talk about Havel too.
"They probably thought the punk who cut in line was just some brute with power. They're all the same level anyway."
This wasn't exactly the situation Havel had hoped for either.
"So why'd you use your real name? Now there's no point in disguising yourself."
"Doesn't matter."
Havel wore an expression that showed he couldn't care less if the Five Great Families knew or not.
"It was going to come out soon enough anyway. And..."
Havel casually cracked his neck.
"I used it on purpose so those Five Great Families bastards would know."
That way, they wouldn't just hide away—they'd make a move.
As Havel's eyes gleamed with anticipation, Elasia looked at him like she couldn't talk him out of it.
"More importantly, Phaiod, Elasia."
Havel called over Phaiod, who had been scanning the surroundings.
"You two, make it into at least the top five."
"Pardon?"
"What?"
Elasia and Phaiod both blurted out in unison.
They hadn't said a word about entering the tournament, but they hadn't expected conditions to be attached.
As the two looked flustered, Havel warned them again.
"If you don't make the top five, you two are doing one-on-one training with me."
They both went silent as if they'd swallowed honey.
And their eyes changed.
They'd rather bite the bullet and claw their way into the top five than train alone with Havel.
They began burning with determination.
Havel chuckled inwardly at the sight.
The two didn't seem to realize it, but their skills were improving day by day.
They were getting used to wielding Calamity energy, sure.
But above all, experience was tempering them to perfection.
'Give it time, and these two will come into their own.'
In Havel's eyes, they still had a long way to go, but their growth rate wasn't bad.
Havel briefly pictured the two standing beside Dante someday.
The future of House Banpellyon looked pretty bright.
'Guess I should introduce them to that punk Dante soon.'
Once this hierarchy business wrapped up, maybe he'd track down some news on him.
That was when Havel had the thought.
"We will now divide the participants into preliminary groups."
The noisy plaza fell silent in an instant at one man's voice.
No one present didn't know who it belonged to.
Tendal's hero, Durandal.
In Tendal, where countless races lived together, incidents were bound to happen—and Durandal had always stepped in to stop them.
With such a hero appearing at this martial tournament, all eyes naturally turned to him.
"There will be four preliminary groups total, run as team battles. We'll select 21 members per group."
"You'll know your assigned group soon enough."
He explained the tournament rules with a kindly smile.
"And this is the venue where you'll compete."
A forest appeared on the overhead screen.
It looked like a massive woodland, divided into four zones.
"Magical barriers prevent incursions between forests, so no worries about getting lost."
Everyone chuckled at Durandal's little joke.
Then Durandal clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention.
"Good luck to you all."
Havel's gaze immediately dropped to the ground.
"Huh?"
Elasia followed suit a beat later.
As a mage, she'd noticed it a moment after Havel.
Space magic activating beneath their feet.
The plaza was packed for the prelims—easily over a thousand people.
Yet somehow, each one had been instantly teleported to their designated spots.
"Th-this happened in a single moment?"
Even as someone who handled magic herself, her awe went beyond shock.
It was no wonder this civilization outshone the modern era.
Tendal truly showcased the pinnacle of magical society.
And beneath the three of them, the lights shimmered in different colors.
Meaning all three were in separate groups.
"Phaiod, Elasia—handle it and win on your own."
Havel said that to them before closing his eyes.
When he slowly opened them again, he was deep in a forest.
The chirp of fresh birdsong echoed from afar.
Havel glanced at the golden band around his wrist.
That must be how they'd track eliminations in the prelims.
He looked up.
Shadows dappled the dim woods ahead.
Vision wasn't much of a hindrance to Havel.
His senses pierced this forest and even the other three groups' zones.
But this time, he decided on a different approach.
"Since my name's out there anyway..."
Havel drew his sword.
The Dawn radiance cloaking the blade flared fiercely.
He pulled back his rear foot and gripped the hilt firmly.
"Might as well make it even more well-known."
And as the Dawn radiance surged forth all at once—
Havel swung.
Krwaaaaaang!
The Dawn light shot out along the arc of his swing, engulfing the forest.
In an instant, it reached the far edge.
And as the surroundings fell eerily quiet—
Rumblle—
The trees before Havel began toppling sideways, one by one.
Then the ones behind followed in a chain reaction.
In the blink of an eye, the woods were gone, revealing the distant plains beyond.
Havel's Dawn had erased the forest.
This staggering sight was broadcast live across Tendal via aerial magic tools.
As everyone gaped at their home or personal screens—
Ding!
A caption appeared.
[Group A prelims concluded with 3 survivors.]
Group A's prelims were over.
Group A's prelims had ended in a flash.
The magic tool now focused on one screen from the group.
It showed Havel standing casually with his sword.
He looked utterly relaxed.
Meanwhile, not just the city but the tournament staff were in chaos.
Group A somehow had only three left.
The rest had been wiped out by Havel's single strike.
As the broadcasters puzzled over how to handle it—
Havel narrowed his eyes at the presences his senses picked up.
'Me included, about three left.'
One must have dodged by sheer luck.
The other had sensed and withstood his attack.
Meaning one was genuinely skilled.
'Wonder if this one's worth looking forward to.'
Ideally from the Five Great Families.
Just then, Havel's view shifted.
The prelims over, he was back at the original venue.
The other returnees gathered in the same spot.
The eliminated seemed sent elsewhere.
Only three remained here.
"Wh-what... what just happened?"
A rabbit-eared man looked around in total bewilderment.
As Havel figured, he'd accidentally dug a burrow and evaded the attack.
He had no clue what was going on.
Havel ignored him and shifted his gaze.
There stood a strikingly handsome man with crow-like wings.
'Not from the Five Great Families.'
Havel pegged him as pureblood Tendal at first glance.
His interest waned instantly.
No Five Great Families here.
"You're the one, huh? The guy who one-shot Marcon. Havel, right?"
The other man, though, was hugely intrigued—unlike Havel.
Arseonna Parsis, royal knight of the Tendal tribe.
Last tournament's champion.
He eyed Havel with keen interest.
"That attack just now was pretty intense."
He smirked.
"Looks like it took a lot out of you, though?"
Havel's presence was always faint, even normally.
So Arseonna misunderstood.
He thought Havel was exhausted from overexerting.
"Great showmanship and all."
He hefted his thick arms and massive mace.
The mace bore faint sword marks.
"But you know wide-area attacks like that don't work on real powerhouses, right?"
Havel blinked.
He'd scattered Dawn radiance broadly, sure.
But to him, it was just a light swing.
Was blocking that worth bragging about?
Havel couldn't fathom it.
"Is that so."
He replied curtly.
"What a stoic guy. Makes me want to fight you even more."
Arseonna actually seemed to like it.
"Anyway, prelims are done—can we head out now?"
Havel nodded toward the exit.
No reason to waste more time.
"Hold on a sec."
That's when the door burst open with a girl's bright voice.
Havel turned that way.
A little girl stood there.
Enveloped in large black wings.
Gleaming black hair, impeccably groomed.
Her clothes screamed highborn at first sight.
Her golden eyes sparkled upon seeing Havel.
He recognized that eye color.
'The youngest Tendal chieftain.'
Baldoran Tendal came to mind.
They didn't look alike, but those eyes were familiar.
Then commotion erupted behind her.
The others all dropped to their knees.
"Havel, what are you doing!"
Arseonna urgently warned him.
Kneel already.
As Havel eyed them quizzically—
The girl smiled warmly at him.
"You really are the one from the prophecy!"
Her cheerful voice rang out.
Havel looked at her puzzled.
"Seeing you don't recognize me confirms it."
She seemed even more delighted.
She gave a noble curtsy, ingrained from childhood.
"Pleased to meet you, Havel. I'm Valera Tendal, the one they call Tendal's princess, humble as I am."
Havel realized his mistake too late.
He'd heard of Baldoran's descendant.
Valera Tendal.
As she introduced herself, Tendal royalty and their sole princess.