The fights continued. As usual—boring as hell—but I still carefully observed every movement. There were no useless matches here. Even weaker participants could become a problem in the future if underestimated. Information matters more than strength in this world.
And finally—an interesting fight.
Sigvard Helm versus Toren Servalin.
Power versus speed.
Spear versus sword.
Interesting.
In their previous matches, neither of them had shown their full strength. But now the situation was different—arena, judges, pressure from the crowd. A real test.
I watched closely.
The fight began.
Sigvard immediately struck with a thrust. Clean, direct, no wasted motion.
Toren blocked it easily.
He really was fast for a two-handed sword user. His movement style was clearly based on fire affinity—sharp bursts, explosive acceleration, sudden shifts in position.
Sigvard's thrusts continued. They carried wind affinity—lightness, speed, precision.
Spear and greatsword—both were low-grade rank 3 artifacts. Worse than my sword, but still weapons reinforced with runes and third-rank materials.
The exchange continued.
Toren shifted into defense using earth affinity. I already knew this type—solid stance, damage reduction, counterattacks through stability.
Then he transitioned into offense.
While using normal strikes, Sigvard continued parrying and dodging with surprising ease.
I was impressed.
The difference in physical strength was obvious, yet he still maintained the tempo of the fight.
The battle continued.
They kept exchanging attacks, but Toren gradually started falling behind. He simply lacked speed.
Then he used a strange sword technique based on fire affinity—creating an explosive impulse that physically propelled his blade forward.
Sigvard failed to fully block it.
The blade pierced his arm.
But in the next moment, the arena formation activated—it suppressed the force of the attack and prevented the loss of the limb.
The arm could be healed, but it would require a high-rank priest. For a first-year student, it was still considered a serious injury.
Hmph. Weaklings.
I kept observing while forming possible counter-strategies against both of them.
The remaining matches finished quickly. Nothing worth noting.
Some participants had already started their second rounds, but it was all just wasting time.
I was tired.
My own fights had been exhausting. Constant control, calculation, pressure.
I was hoping for the final match—either against a first-rank opponent or at least a weak second-rank one.
But fate, apparently, had other plans.
I must have somehow offended the god of luck.
My opponent was…
Jian Lei.
Three of the strongest participants in the tournament—and him again.
At least both of us were speed-type fighters. That was slightly better.
He looked serious.
I could tell—he had been watching my previous fights.
The match began.
Jian Lei immediately went on the offensive.
I blocked.
I observed him, searching for habits, weaknesses, repeating patterns.
But there were none. His technique was too clean, too refined.
He gave me no information.
The fight continued, and I was gradually being pushed back.
I decided to take a risk—parry using the 12 Steps of the Storm and transition into a counterattack.
He expected it.
Of course.
Even so, I managed to stop his momentum. Without landing a hit, but still.
The urge to use magic grew stronger.
One spell—and the fight would be over.
But I suppressed it.
I wanted to win as a warrior. Only aura, only technique.
Magic was the easy way. Not now.
We continued exchanging blows. The balance slowly shifted.
At first he pressured me. Then I began adapting.
And now I was on the offensive.
I attacked from different angles, changed rhythm, searched for openings.
Useless.
He held firm.
But he was also starting to tire.
So was I.
We were both at our limit.
This exchange would decide everything.
I pushed the 12 Steps of the Storm to its limit.
He did the same.
Our blades clashed.
Once.
And again.
And again.
Then—the moment.
His chest opened up.
I struck.
A shallow but clean cut.
I won.
For a moment, I even lost focus from exhaustion.
And… I smiled without realizing it.
The priests quickly healed us. Not fully, but we would be fine by tomorrow.
"You're different from the rumors."
Jian Lei approached me with a faint smile.
I nodded.
"Good fight. A little more, and I would've lost."
I answered honestly.
"Then let's fight again sometime."
He looked straight at me, completely serious.
All these martial arts fanatics… obsessed with fighting.
But at least he kept control.
"Sure."
I agreed without hesitation.
Fights like this sharpen the blade.
"I'll be waiting."
He looked satisfied.
Half an hour later, the matches finally ended.
Another half hour later, the judges posted the final ranking.
---
Final Participant Rankings (Average Judge Scores)
1. Eleris Valmir — 98/100
2. Seraphina Aurelis — 97/100
3. Leon Luminaris — 95/100
4. Cecilia Eldristan — 93/100
5. Lucian Veylmore — 91/100
6. Mia Solarin — 88/100
7. Toren Servalin — 86/100
8. Sigvard Helm — 84/100
9. Viren Kaldris — 83/100
10. Jian Lei — 82/100
(Note: 9th and 10th place were determined by the result of their direct match.)
---
9th place.
I looked at the list.
Not bad.
My gaze lingered on 5th place.
Lucian Veylmore.
I had seen him at the banquet but didn't really remember him. An archer from the Archipelagic Kingdom.
Dark brown hair, green eyes, a body built perfectly for ranged combat.
A dangerous type.
After the placement and receiving my room, I went to sleep without even eating.