Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Provocation
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After the preliminaries, all sorts of rumors were running rampant among the students.
The topics narrowed down to a few, with the hottest being the performance of Team 15.
"Look at this. Everyone from Team 15 of the first mission made it to the round of sixteen. Does that even make sense?"
"I can understand the others, but that kid from the basic class is a bit..."
"Why? I heard he played a big part in taking down the third-tier druid."
"No, didn't they say it was his first time learning the Imperial Sound Lock Sword and the Velgart Energy Arts? How is that possible?"
"Hmm. Honestly, it is an unbelievable rate of growth."
The other four members of Team 15 were from the advanced class, so there wasn't much gossip about them.
But in my case, all kinds of stories were circulating.
Rumors like I'd bribed my opponents, or that only weaklings were placed in Group 9.
Of course, I couldn't care less about any of it.
'Once I crush them all, that kind of useless chatter will disappear.'
After a three-day break, the long-awaited day of the main tournament arrived.
"Wow, I'm dying."
Frixon, standing in the waiting room, bounced his foot nervously.
Curtis's main tournament match was currently underway.
His friend was being pushed back, and since he was up next, he looked like his stomach was in knots.
Then, the fierce battle finally came to an end.
"The match is decided! Isabel Rantzverger is the winner!"
Of all people, his opponent had to be a direct descendant of one of the four great families.
Curtis was pretty unlucky.
But Frixon was even more unfortunate.
His opponent in the round of sixteen was Ellington.
"Am I trembling?"
"Stop talking nonsense and get up there."
I gave him a hard shove on the back, and Frixon slumped his shoulders, trudging away.
He looked quite dejected, likely because he had no confidence he could beat the third prince.
But one cannot admit defeat without even trying.
Lifting his bowed head, his gaze transformed, becoming like that of a wild beast.
Of course, Frixon was the one who got wrecked in this fight.
Claaaang—!
"It's over."
Unfortunately, both Curtis and Frixon failed to advance to the quarterfinals.
Their opponents were so skilled that the outcome was somewhat inevitable.
Next up was the match between the second prince, Frantz, and Berbatov.
Berbatov was the fourth prince of the Corinth Kingdom and one of the leading contenders for the throne.
He was young, but he was the one who most resembled the current king, a talent possessing both skill and renown.
To think that two of the top contenders for the championship would face each other right at the start of the main tournament.
The matchup draw seemed pretty terrible.
'Of course, it's a good thing for me. In any case, I'm looking forward to it.'
The students, who like me predicted a close match, watched the duel with sparkling eyes.
"Ready! Begin!"
"Hah!"
Clang—!
The moment the referee's signal fell, the two clashed in the center of the arena.
It was a fierce struggle, as if taking even a single step back would mean immediate defeat.
Their strength and the power of their auras were similar, but Frantz seemed a bit more seasoned.
Shhk!
A brief moment of silence was created as they stepped back.
But the silence was short-lived.
Shwiiik! Clang-clang-clang!
Having raised their auras to nearly their maximum, the two exchanged blows like madmen.
As the fierce battle continued without an inch of ground given, the students watched with sweaty palms.
The professors and assistants, seated under the awning, also watched with intrigued eyes.
'Their levels are similar, but there's a clear difference in their mastery.'
The gap between Frantz and Berbatov seemed paper-thin.
However, I could gauge their levels with relative accuracy.
Sure enough, as the duel reached its climax, the scales of victory tipped in Frantz's favor.
It was because Berbatov made a critical mistake, his movements becoming disorganized.
Clang—! Twaang!
In the end, the second prince managed to secure a hard-fought victory.
"Woooah! He won!"
"As expected of His Highness, the second prince!"
When the match was decided, the students erupted in cheers.
Having defeated one of the top contenders, there was now almost no one left who could stop Frantz.
"Next up is the match between Ray Carter and Kamil Felton."
Finally, my turn had come.
At the referee's call, I made my way to the arena.
From the opposite side, I saw Kamil trudging over.
The guy seemed to attach no meaning whatsoever to the student council president selection tournament.
He just defeated those who challenged him, and whoops, now he's in the main tournament?
Ah, what a pain.
It was something like that.
Looking into Kamil Felton's empty eyes, I suddenly had a strange feeling.
'Somehow, I feel like this is a disguise.'
A feigned expression of indifference and eyes that said everything was a bother.
But beneath it all, I could sense an unusually intense competitive spirit.
If he had no desire to win, he should have been eliminated in the first round of the preliminaries.
But that guy had stubbornly made his way to the main tournament.
Of course, it was an achievement earned simply by countering, without ever attacking first.
But wasn't it a contradiction that he hadn't withdrawn?
"Ready, begin."
As if representing our own lack of fighting spirit, the referee's call was also listless.
The match began, but neither Kamil nor I moved an inch.
We just stood still in the arena, staring at each other.
The referee, who had stepped back, tilted his head and threw out a comment.
"If you don't fight for a certain period of time, you'll both be disqualified."
Hey, can't you see we're having a battle of wills?
The referee couldn't feel the pressure we were directing at each other, so his reaction was understandable.
With no other choice, I took a step forward and lightly thrust my sword.
It was a single-foot thrust, with no aura or strength behind it.
Tak!
As the blade suddenly neared his eyes, Kamil finally reacted.
He raised the sword that had been hanging limply and blocked the attack.
I snapped my wrist, changing the sword's path.
Flick!
He then took a step to the side, deflecting the incoming strike.
'Oh? This guy?'
I smiled inwardly at Kamil Felton's reaction.
He had moved in the most efficient way to defend against the single-foot thrust.
He might seem completely unmotivated, but Kamil was definitely not that kind of person.
The third son of the Heavenly Emperor Simeon, who was called the epitome of a strong man.
They say a great father doesn't raise a worthless son, and he must have inherited great talent.
And yet he doesn't covet the position of family head?
Look at me—I'm an illegitimate son and the youngest, yet I'm aiming for the acting head selection.
He must have lived his life acting thoughtless, hiding something deep in his heart.
At least, that's how I saw it.
Thud.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, I withdrew my sword and took a step back.
"This is boring."
"...!"
As I, who had been unleashing sharp strikes, suddenly stopped moving, Kamil was left in an awkward position.
He had been about to dodge, but the attack had vanished completely.
Despite this, he just stood there, staring blankly.
I gazed at him and opened my mouth.
"They say there are no Feltons who aren't sword demons, but what are you? You seem to lack the competitive spirit to bear the Felton name."
"..."
It was an extremely provocative statement.
A direct descendant of one of the four great families should have reacted immediately to such an outrageous remark.
Whether by punishing me or protesting.
Hadn't this guy harbored a strange yearning in his eyes?
But Kamil Felton's face only twisted subtly; he took no action.
Still, since there was a slight change in his expression, I threw out more bait.
"Seeing as you've made it this far, you must have some desire to win. Or are you just biding your time because you lack the confidence to surpass your brothers?"
"...Don't spout nonsense when you know nothing."
This time, it seemed to have hit the mark.
Hearing his growling voice, I cheered inwardly.
The expectation that I might get to see Kamil's true skills.
'If this guy starts climbing the ranks, will the Felton family's succession structure fall into disarray?'
That was a best-case scenario.
But even if it didn't throw the Felton family into chaos, this guy seemed to be in need of a mental overhaul.
Being this passive, he's useless.
"Why do you think I don't know?"
"The life of a direct descendant of the four great families isn't as glamorous as it looks. It's fierce and lonely."
"That's just how life is. Do you think all those students over there haven't lived fiercely?"
"Of course, they have. But..."
Kamil stopped mid-sentence and closed his mouth.
He was probably about to say that the four great families are different.
He likely gave up on explaining, judging that someone who hadn't experienced it couldn't possibly understand.
To draw out his true self, I threw out one last line.
"What are you so afraid of that you can't move forward?"
Thud.
At that very moment, his movements stopped as if by magic.
Staring at me with wavering eyes, Kamil spoke in a voice that sounded like he was scratching his throat.
"You don't know. You don't know what kind of threats the direct descendants of the four great families live with."
Hearing that, I...
let out a hollow laugh with a dumbfounded expression.
'What a pathetic worry.'
Look, buddy.
I've been playing the part of a direct descendant of the four—no, five—great families twice now.
I shrugged and responded to his words.
"You're acting like an invalid because you feel your life is threatened? That's just incomprehensible."
"Wh-what did you say?"
"So the life of a direct descendant of the four great families is to lie flat on the ground because you don't want to die? What a defeatist attitude. It's repulsive."
"..."
Ah, did I hit him too hard with the facts?
I was worried this might seriously sour our relationship.
Kamil's face was flushed bright red.
Finally, he slowly raised his practice sword.
It looked like he was finally about to show his true skills.
"What do you know!"
Spinnnng! Clang!
Kamil accelerated in an instant, closing the distance in the blink of an eye.
The Line-Drawing Sword Technique, boasting a tyrannical and ferocious power.
It had been a long time since I'd seen the Felton's secret arts performed at such a high level.
With our swords locked, I continued the power struggle.
Kagak! Zzzzzzt!
Sparks of blue aura flew to the side, heralding a fierce clash.
In that state, I smirked and whispered into Kamil's ear.
"Feeling insecure in the competition? That's because you're pathetically weak."
Kuuung