Inside a luxurious room, a man wearing an iron mask can be seen tapping his fingers on the wooden table. Impatiently waiting for someone. Everyone in the room has a look of fear and nervousness as the man with an iron mask hits his finger on the table like a ticking clock. The man sighed before gazing at one of his men.
"You" the man pointed
"Y-yes, 3rd prince?"
"Tsk, give me your hand" the prince sighed while beckoning the man to come near him. The man looked at his comrade only to find disdain and relief from their expression. Closing his eyes, he stretched his arm in front of the prince. He waited for something yet nothing happened. He opened his eyes to find the prince looking at him.
"You're new…I assume that this is the first time you've met me?" the prince asked as the man nodded immediately.
"No wonder you're shaking more than usual. Don't worry" the prince lightly slapped the man's face repeatedly "As long as you do your job. I'm not that cruel" the prince pushed the man away before glancing at the old man beside him.
"Where is the king? I'm quite busy, unlike this…barren and backward kingdom."
"The king of the Sekai Kingdom is not available, war zealot" the old man bowed
"I should've brought my army. Now, I'm here wasting my goddamn time. How about those dogs?"
"Both dogs have escaped. We have no clue about where they are or what information they have regarding the target. Our spies haven't seen him anywhere so there's a possibility that the target died" the old man replied.
Suddenly, the door opened as the crowned princess entered the room with her entourage behind her. The third prince stood up from his bed and walked forward before offering a handshake. The crowned princess accepted the handshake before bowing. The third prince of the Swordwin Empire simply nodded, a clear sign of disrespect yet the crown princess didn't mind.
"What bought you here, war zealot?" the crown princess asked calmly.
"I've heard that your brother has some interesting friends. It is possible to meet this new friend of his" the third prince said before looking away and pointing at the chair. Immediately, the nearest man to the chair grabbed it and puts it behind the prince who sat in it. That was the only chair in the room as the crowned princes can only awkwardly stand up. Her entourage can only grit their teeth from the blatant disrespect.
"Forgive me but I don't know who you're talking to? My half-brother's business isn't mine- Suddenly, a sword slams across her back, puncturing one of her loyal followers. The crowned princess turned around to find the punctured man grasping the hilt of the sword as he desperately tried removing it only for his strength to fail. The man looked at the princess with fear and anxiousness only to find her back facing him. The crowned princess can only swallow her anger and dignity as the man sitting in front of her is someone who deliberately creates tension between kingdoms and starts a war to remove his inferiority complex against his brothers.
"Lie to me once again or someone closer to you will receive my sword" the prince gazed at the shuddering woman across the room whose standing near the door. The crowned princess panicked and hurriedly nodded.
"Forgive me…I will try to look for him"
"Good. I hope you don't waste my generosity" the prince warned as the crowned princess nodded before leaving the room with her entourage carrying the dead man despite their disgust and anger clear on their faces.
"War zealot, this might sour the relationship of your empire with this kingdom" the old man whispered as the prince simply laughed with a maniacal smile.
"Then good. It has been so long ever since there has been any action. It's too boring to fight monsters who only shriek in pain" the prince chuckled.
The next day, the tournament resumed as everyone went to the arena to look for the exciting match. It was a grand moment for the kingdom as the third prince of the Swordwin empire graced his presence. As everyone can see him sitting beside the king. The seats are full and on the peak of the colosseum sit those with great influence and wealth. The sword saints, the head of the 8 grand family, the royal family, and factions from different parts of the human continent. The representative from four major religions is there and even representatives of the 4 races appeared. It wouldn't be wrong to tell that this match will be seen by all major forces. Even the descendants of the sword saints can't help but be nervous and unnerve by the attention, this tournament was able to get.
A single stage remained fixed in the middle of the arena as the announcer walks up to it. Everyone stayed silent with a few civilians already betting on who would win. The 30 participants slowly walked to the bottom of the stage as they looked powerful in the eyes of the civilians who already created some kind of fan club for a few participants who left an amazing show with their skills and looks. The announcer opens his mouth as the chatter stopped
"Today on this occasion, the ranking match will begin! Every contestant please pick a number from this box for the match to start" a box appeared in the middle of the stage as slowly, and each one of the participants grabbed some kind of small paper with a number written on them. Luckily or unluckily, Lawrence got the paper with a number 1 written on it. He looked around but it seems that everyone hid their paper.
"The first match will be. Between Evan Everlock and Damien the Bastard. Please give them a round of applause!" the announcer clapped but barely anyone seems to be excited by the match. Even the VIPs merely looked bored by the first fight. It can't be helped. Even Lawrence hasn't heard of the name Damien the Bastard.
Both of them walked onto the stage as Lawrence saw his first enemy. It's a burly bald man that isn't wearing a shirt? Lawrence is confused about the outfit but what caught his eye is that his enemy isn't holding any weapon. There are some line marks on his neck and ankles while scars can be seen on his exposed back.
'It seems that I will be fighting a slave..probably a gladiator who paid for his freedom.' Lawrence didn't bother summoning his Gungnir. He needs to practice his fist arts since he would be throwing his Gungnir in every chance he can get. Damien scrunched his face but remained silent as he postured himself.
"It seems that both fighters are ready. Fight!" the announcer shouted as Damien charged forward with his fingers facing Lawrence like a spear. Lawrence lifted his right arm before raising his hand up, Damien immediately lightens as he started floating slowly. Lawrence found out that his right arm can control the gravity effectively while using less mana yet he can't activate any of his gravity spells using it. Lawrence raises his right arm higher and higher as Damien flies into the air. Though he wanted to do the same technique in the certain space show he has seen on the earth, the best he can do is increase or decrease the gravity. Lawrence immediately drops his right arm and Damien can only watch helplessly as the gravity around his body doubles. Crashing into the solid stone floor, Damien weakly raised his head with his mouth bloodied and some of his bones broken from the speed of the fall.
"Do you admit defeat?" Lawrence asked, not wanting to continue and reveal all of his trump cards. Since the match is point-based, losing only awards 1 point meaning if a participant loses, it will only affect their ranking. Damien shouted and beats his chest repeatedly which resulted in him growing bigger with every beat creating a small shockwave that pushes Lawrence repeatedly. He looked behind to see that he was already near the edge. Damien charged once again but he was twice as big as before, with his fist barreling forward. Lawrence immediately teleported behind Damien before using the spell repulse, pushing Damien out of the stage with ease.
"Evan Everlock won! What an amazing performance, not only a genius alchemist but a genius fighter as well!" The announcer excitedly shouted through the device that enhances his voice. Some VIPs were intrigued by the armor wrapped around Lawrence's arm but some were dissatisfied. The war zealot only smirks from the lackluster fight.
Meanwhile, the civilians screamed in delight and excitement from the match since it looked like the fight is already finished by the time Lawrence is near the edge only for the turnaround.
Lawrence simply walked down the stage without any signs of injuries or fatigue. Some of the participants were interested in him but some didn't care. Lawrence noticed that someone is especially staring at him. He looked in their direction to find that it was Cain with a small smile.
'It seems that he already knows. That system of his is really broken. Anyway, it doesn't matter if he knows my identity, since I will be ready for him' Lawrence simply thought before returning to find that there has been a chair assigned. With 10 golden chairs in the front, 10 steel chairs behind, and 10 wooden chairs at the end. It seems that each seat corresponds to the rank. A butler suddenly arrived and walked toward Lawrence.
"What would you want to drink or eat sir?" the butler asked as Lawrence raised his eyebrow. This was never described in the novel but Lawrence just shrugged it off, with the number of VIPs watching the fight. This kind of service for the participants isn't that far fetch. Though when he looked at Damien who looked devastated, there are no butler near him.
"I'm fine. Though I want to ask, does this service provide potions?"
"Of course, we want the participants to be able to relax and heal themselves between fights but I have to remind you sir that using potions during a fight is prohibited" the butler replied
"I know, get me a mana potion." Lawrence sat at one of the golden chairs as he is currently the rank 1. The butler hurriedly arrived with a mana potion of high quality as he sips it to test if there was anything wrong with it. Luckily, it didn't have anything dangerous as he drinks it and returned the empty bottle to the butler. Some participants saw him but he didn't care. The truth is that he barely used any mana but to let his enemies think that he has low mana reserves, they would be more willing to let him use his spells more often in hopes of him running out of mana.
The next fight was between Cain Falmos and Zeke Forthbringer, the son of the lanky sword saint who appeared during the proposal of the tournament between the crowned princess and the sword saints. The VIPs were assured that Zeke would win and the majority of the civilians bet immediately on Zeke winning the fight. Cain and Zeke would fight purely on swordsmanship as the sound of swords clanging echoed through the coliseum. Zeke would stab and swing in unpredictable ways but Cain made sure to parry and block each one.
Zeke gritted his teeth upon seeing Cain's carefree smile as he easily parried each attack to the side. Zeke's sword immediately released snowflakes as Cain immediately stepped back. Zeke charged forward before swinging the sword in Cain's direction and creating a snowstorm. It freezes and ripped anything it touched as it barreled at a blinding speed. Cain tapped his foot to the side as wind circled around his feet before appearing in the corner of the stage in that instant. The snowstorm missed and hits the walls of the coliseum as vibration can be felt from the force behind it.
Cain turned his sword around with the pommel facing forward before slamming it in Zeke's direction. A small concentrated air was blasted from the pommel as it caught Zeke's neck while spit and blood gushes out of his mouth. It was so sudden and quick that Zeke didn't even feel anything but dizziness. The next second, he was already unconscious. It was as if someone punched Zeke straight to his neck and nearly broke his bones.
The lanky sword saint immediately stood up in disbelief while murmurs can be heard from the other leaders and representatives. The king widened his eyes while the war zealot was amazed by the speed and strength of such an attack. The representative of the abbot of righteous was in great disbelief as it was the same as the force punch and one-inch fist. Both of them are capable of creating a small concentrated shockwave that would allow them to punch and hit their enemies from far away. While the remaining sword saints, especially Duke Leonard is interested in Cain who was more talented in swordsmanship than he expected. It would be extremely beneficial if he can convince Cain to join the order of swords.
Cain simply smiled and waved at his new fans and haters as he simply walked off with a menacing smile targeted at Lawrence who is calmly sipping a juice infused with mana. Cain didn't even put the attention he got from the fellow participants and hurriedly sat at the golden chair beside Lawrence.
"You're quite brave. Do you see that iron-mask man, that one sitting near the king? That's the third prince of the Swordwin Empire. The war zealot who wages war for fun and for the thrill of it." Cain smiled but Lawrence ignored him. He isn't planning on entertaining the main character and never will. He hated Cain when he was reading the novel and he is still hostile to him.
"Oh? Ignoring me? That's interesting. I wonder if you have gotten stronger. Though, this time. You can't run away nor will there be someone to save you" Cain continued but upon noticing that Lawrence isn't planning on talking to him. He simply smiled and shrugged. He gestured for a butler to give him something to snack on as the butler hurriedly run off.
Lawrence meanwhile started to ponder about the matching between players since he would want to incur the most wins without fighting those who he deemed to be hard to beat. After the ranking match, the top 8 participants with the most points will proceed in the glorious battle which will follow the single elimination format. Those who lose will be judged by the VIPs in what rank they will fall in. He glanced at Cain who is enjoying some crackers while watching the current match
'I wonder if you really have plot armor or you're simply strong beyond comprehension' he pondered coldly