The arena roared with life.
Thousands had gathered.
Warriors.
Mages.
Nobles.
Spectators from across kingdoms.
All eyes were fixed on the massive structure at the center—
A towering stone pillar.
Thick.
Ancient.
And glowing faintly with layered enchantments.
A voice echoed across the arena.
"First Phase of the Grand Tournament—"
"The Entrance Trial."
Murmurs spread instantly.
The announcer continued—
"This pillar is reinforced with high-grade magic."
"It can withstand first-rate and second-rate attacks with ease."
A pause.
Then—
"Break it… and prove your worth."
The Trial Begins
The first participant stepped forward.
A heavily built warrior.
He roared as he swung his axe.
BOOM!
The impact shook the arena.
Dust scattered.
But when it cleared—
The pillar stood untouched.
Laughter spread.
"Next!"
Another stepped forward.
A mage.
He cast a blazing spell.
Flames erupted.
Engulfing the pillar.
But when the fire faded—
Nothing.
Not even a crack.
One after another—
Participants tried.
Failed.
Some managed to push against the barrier.
Some left faint marks.
But none could break through.
The crowd began to grow restless.
The Rising Star
Then—
A new figure stepped forward.
A tall young man with sharp features and a composed aura.
His robes were elegant.
Marked with a noble crest.
The announcer's voice rang out—
"Participant—Valerian Duskryn!"
Murmurs spread quickly.
"The Duskryn family…?"
"That noble house?"
Lyrielle narrowed her eyes.
"…He's strong."
Aurelia smirked.
"Looks like it."
The announcer continued—
"Affiliation: Astryx Dominion Academy."
The name alone stirred the crowd.
One of the most prestigious academies.
Valerian raised his hand calmly.
Mana gathered.
Dense.
Heavy.
Then—
He released it.
A focused blast of pure energy shot forward.
CRASH!
The pillar trembled violently.
Cracks spread across its surface—
And then—
The upper half shattered.
Stone fragments fell to the ground.
The arena erupted.
"He broke it!!"
"That's insane!"
Valerian lowered his hand slowly.
Unbothered.
Unshaken.
High above—
The nobles leaned forward.
Watching.
Interested.
His name spread quickly.
Whispers turned into recognition.
Admiration.
Respect.
The Silent Competitor
More participants followed.
Some strong.
Some skilled.
But none reached that level again.
Until—
A name was called.
"Azrael Noctis."
A figure stepped forward.
Dressed in dark attire.
Face calm.
Presence quiet.
Unlike others—
There was no arrogance.
No showmanship.
Only focus.
He raised his hand slowly.
Mana gathered around him.
Sharp.
Controlled.
Then—
He released it.
A precise strike of condensed energy hit the pillar.
CRACK!
A deep fracture spread across its center.
Not enough to destroy it—
But enough to leave a clear mark.
The crowd reacted.
"Not bad!"
"He got through the outer barrier!"
Azrael lowered his hand silently and stepped away.
No expression.
No reaction.
Just another capable warrior among many.
Lyrielle watched him briefly—
But her attention shifted almost immediately.
Because something else…
Had entered the arena.
The Name That Froze the Air
The announcer hesitated for a moment.
Then spoke—
"Next participant…"
A pause.
"…The Crimson Blade of the West."
The name echoed.
Strange.
Unfamiliar to many.
Aurelia laughed lightly.
"…What kind of name is that?"
"Sounds like something a kid would come up with."
But not everyone laughed.
Some older spectators—
Their expressions changed instantly.
"…That name…"
"…It can't be…"
The Arrival
A man stepped forward.
Black clothing.
Simple.
Yet refined.
A mask covered the lower half of his face.
Only his eyes were visible.
Sharp.
Unmoving.
Aurelia scoffed.
"He's overdressed for someone who's about to fail."
Lyrielle didn't respond.
Because the moment she saw him—
Her breath stopped.
"…No…"
Aurelia glanced at her.
"What now?"
Lyrielle whispered—
"…That's Kael."
Aurelia frowned.
"Don't start again—"
The Strike
The man said nothing.
Did nothing unnecessary.
He walked to the pillar.
Placed his hand on his sword.
Drew it slowly.
A faint aura surrounded the blade.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
But terrifyingly precise.
Then—
He moved.
A single downward strike.
And in the same motion—
He sheathed the sword.
Turned.
And began walking away.
The crowd blinked.
"…That's it?"
"He barely touched it."
Aurelia smirked.
"Told you—"
The Moment
A sound echoed.
Soft.
Sharp.
…tick…
The pillar trembled.
Then—
SHHHHHHK—
It split.
Perfectly.
Cleanly.
Horizontally.
The upper half slid off—
And crashed to the ground.
Silence.
Total.
Unreal.
Then—
The arena exploded.
"IMPOSSIBLE!"
"He cut THROUGH everything?!"
"That wasn't even a full swing!"
High above—
Even the nobles stood.
Eyes locked.
Focused.
The Legend Awakens
Whispers spread rapidly.
"…That technique…"
"…That precision…"
"…That aura…"
An old warrior in the crowd whispered—
"…Crimson Blade…"
Another replied—
"…The one from decades ago…"
"…Is that style still alive…?"
The Departure
The masked man didn't react.
Didn't look back.
Didn't acknowledge the chaos behind him.
He simply walked forward.
And disappeared into the waiting area.
Like a shadow.
The Only One Who Knew
Lyrielle's heart raced.
Her eyes never left the path he took.
"…It's him…"
Aurelia crossed her arms.
Still unconvinced.
"…You're overthinking."
Lyrielle shook her head slowly.
Her voice calm.
Certain.
Unshakable.
"…I'd recognize those eyes anywhere."