"I need the medics to report now."
Alex Lispentine spoke in a low growl, his eyes trained on a glass barricade that separated him from Eren Astelion.
There were only thirty minutes until the final part of the regular tournament, the deciding match of who would face Camilla Buckley looming in the distance.
However, the sudden and spontaneous mutilation of one of his strongest Marshals had left him stunned.
While he could understand Havok's wounds, as he had gone up against the closest man to a Sea King, the Multimage wasn't known to be so violent.
She herself had no recollection of anything that had happened after she felt an illusion ensnare her, only a cold grasp that had settled over her mind, grinding time to a halt.
Any of the spectators he spoke with repeated the same: a flash of magenta light and then a stillness that wrecked the mind.
"Dammit!"
He slammed his hand downward on a solid steel table, the metal freezing and then dissolving into snow.
Taking a deep breath, he stared off into the darkness around him, his brain a mess of possibilities.
There's a new factor in play here…
The man brought his hands towards his collar, the golden tie he had so carefully adjusted that morning needing additional fitting.
Turning around slowly, he noticed a plump doctor holding a thin clipboard, heavy beads of sweat dripping down his pudgy face.
"S-sir Lispentine…"
Alex held out his hand, signaling for the man to get on with it.
"A-all the bones in his arms and legs are severely fractured while his internal organs nearly burst from bleeding…"
The golden-haired man closed his eyes, a long sigh coming from his mouth as he pondered the description.
"Leave."
He directed no malice behind the words; nonetheless, the doctor scrambled away like a cat from a wolf.
Lady Elaris was spectating the match… Perhaps she would know about what befell Eren…
Returning his gaze towards the operating doctors who worked tirelessly at healing the man's broken body, a grim idea crossed his mind.
No. I cannot turn the pontiff against me when war is brewing… If she turns the clergy against the Hunters' Guild and unites alongside the Association, then there is truly no hope of winning this fight.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stared silently through the glass, waiting for the clock to strike six and for the final Marshal match to begin.
…
Lepaie Quinn, Maria Elaris, and Vaelmyr Droskyn sat beside Aaron Grimstall as they stared down at the arena filled to its maximum.
Outside on the balcony, Cauron Thorn poured his energy into maintaining a force field stronger than he had ever held before.
For this was a battle like no other, a fight that would determine who would fight Camilla Buckley, the Marshal of Ancients and the strongest Hunter alive.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The booming voice of the announcer rang out through the stadium, cheers louder than any before roaring out in response.
"PLEASE GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO THE ONE, THE ONLY, MASARU KUROGANE, THE MARSHAL OF THE SOUTH!"
Like an explosion, the audience burst with enthusiasm, the noise-resistant box where some of the most powerful humans alive sat, unable to stop the cheers.
Aaron, however, was not paying close attention to the noise, a piece of paper being slipped into his hands, drawing his attention.
Glancing downward and reading the paper, the blond-haired boy looked up at the woman beside him and shook his head.
Her golden eyes reflected his own appearance back at him, the extremely pale and fatigued teenager whose mind was wrought with headaches.
Activating Absolute Tranquility would completely mitigate the damages incurred from the multiple divine figures; however, thirty minutes wouldn't be enough.
There were only three minutes until the match started, and it could last over that period, leaving him without any mana to activate any barriers.
If I put up with the pain now, then when I leave, I won't have to deal with passing out from mana depletion…
Exhaling hard, he felt his heart skip a beat, another year of his lifespan gone in a flash, never to return.
Twenty-two years gone. If it stays at half a year every day, and I am supposed to live until eighty, I'll die before February's end…
Hearing the announcer's booming voice once again, he focused on the soon-to-start match brewing below.
"NOW! ONLY RECENTLY CROWNED THE VICTOR AFTER A SURPRISE MATCH CONCLUSION, PLEASE GIVE IT UP FOR BIANCA SANTORO, THE MULTIMAGE!"
Yet again, the crowd lost their minds, screaming and cheering like there weren't two matches of even grander scale after this one.
The sound of the play clock echoed through the arena, a sixty-second period that, when ended, would trigger the starting firework.
In the booth, the voice of Vaelmyr Droskyn rang out loudly.
"Where the hell is Lispentine? Isn't he supposed to be here for his own damn tournament!?"
His words confused Aaron, who had thought the golden-haired man would already be there, so he glanced around warily.
Is he really not here?
Thinking back to the sprawled out form of Eren Astelion on the battlefield, he couldn't help but feel nauseous.
After Penelope's warning, a sudden commandment had echoed throughout the very fibers of his humanity.
"Thou shalt not test god."
The mere thought of the memory drowned him in a migraine, the cryptic message from a being the boy could only assume to be the deity within his mind.
It warned me against trying to use its power like that again… Even just a gaze from the God of Illusions irritated to such an extent… That's…
He paused, the timer reaching one second, and the sound of a massive explosion rolling out in the distance.
Terrifying.
…
Bianca stared out at the brightly illuminated battlefield ahead of her, the final checks on her mana core now completed, and the match commenced.
Masaru Kurogane, a man she had personally proctored through the fifty-fourth Hunters' Exam eight years prior.
He was the oldest challenger that year at twenty-one and one who was already a Marshal, only wishing to claim the grand prize of entry into the Vault of Nautilus.
Not only that, but the weapon he carried was far more advanced than anything she had ever seen in her life, a tool of absolute destruction said to even be able to destroy worlds within the hands of a god.
Now, as she faced him as an opponent, she noticed an oddity, something that made her blood boil with fury.
How dare he…
The Swordsman of the South, a man who prided himself on his swordsmanship, kept his pitch-black blade sheathed on his back, his hands clutching a regular broadsword without a single seal or emblem.
"Kurogane!"
She yelled outward at the man even as his eyes narrowed and his guard was up.
"Where is your sword!?"
The black-haired man's lips curled downwards, a deep and lonely aura leaking from his figure.
"I cannot bear to turn it against my mentor if it will bring her harm. A simple blade shall suffice."
Bianca's cheek twitched with anger, the blatant disrespect that her student was showing her making her regret ever making her recommendation for his employment into the guild.
"Perhaps I still have one final lesson to teach you then."
Her lips turned into a smile, her staff covered in dozens of low-level seals that, when pressed together in a sigil-like pattern, were able to form runes.
Even with such markings covering her tool, that was not all, as the weapon bore a single emblem that appeared at once.
Masaru's blank expression faltered for a moment, a light laugh coming from his throat, shocking the parts of the crowd who could hear it.
"I never listened to you then, so what will change now?"
He tightened his grip on the blade at the same time the woman pointed out her staff, a silent competition separate from the one they were participating in being forged between the two.
Then, in the blink of an eye, they vanished from sight, a sonic boom resounding as far as the Bay of Thorn, exploding outward.
Wind like that of a hurricane erupted as they reappeared in the center of the arena, yet vanished before they could clash.
They appeared, and then they disappeared, their forms a flickering reflection of endless agility that surpassed even the most powerful of men.
While Bianca Santoro was a mage who preferred distance, she had always prepared for the defenses to fail and a close-range fight to ensue.
Therefore, while she parried each and every strike the man threw at her, she could throw in spells at such a short distance.
Instead of her peaceful language, which she was fond of, she muttered chants that could eviscerate a life without respite.
『Severance』
Hardened blades forged from mana shot forth from her staff, their speed matching that of a bullet as they bombarded the man without respite.
Slashing downward, he parried the attack with ease, spinning his figure and launching a counterstrike towards her stomach.
Spinning her staff within her hand like helicopter blades, she slammed the butt of the weapon into the hardened floor, forcing her torso backwards and summoning a being into the fray.
『Oathguard』
Rock shot upward out of the sandy arena, a golem swinging its massive arm in a crescent arc along the path where the swordsman stood.
Flipping his blade upside down in his grip, the man bolted forward, his legs pushing the sand back behind him at such a speed that they became projectiles that collided with the barrier.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Leaping over the arm of the giant stone monster, he slammed his black boot into its humanoid skull, the sound of rock splitting echoing through the arena.
"No, you don't!"
Twisting her staff deeper into the sand, the stadium floor shot upward like a geyser, soaking the giant's body in fresh soil.
Its glowing yellow eyes brightened once more, its hand clenching tight and punching straight upward at the man atop its head.
Raising his brow, he swung his sword in a horizontal cut, dicing the golem's hand into fragments before it could even reach him.
Not allowing it the time to regenerate, he raised his arms above his head, slamming the broadsword into its skull.
Bianca's eyes widened as she tried to strengthen the beast; however, the force from the swordsman was too intense, its body bursting into dust without delay.
Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she removed her staff from the sand, spinning around in a circle while chanting.
『Respite of Ancients』
Masaru's eyes widened as he attempted to slash at the woman before she could complete the spell, a massive swing slashing forearms nearly two inches deep.
Stumbling backwards, she smiled up at the man, the final piece of the chant activating and the spell firing off.
KRUNK!
Instead of just a single golem that dove from the desert floor, various creatures of all varieties rose from the soil, the Emblem of the Earth Saint operating at its fullest extent.
In exchange for never devouring a living creature, she would gain the abilities of the mythical being who once lurked in the Sea of Ancients.
And as the Swordsman of the South held his broadsword in front of him, he sighed hard, the sight of five guardians of nature staring down at him without a trace of fear in their hearts making for quite the difficult opponents.
"Fairness will get you nowhere, Masaru. I thought I taught you better than that…"
The Multimage laughed gently as she stroked the stone hides of her creations, their glistening gemstone eyes and fierce expressions ready to rip and tear whoever stood in their way.