Out of sheer curiosity, after the game had ended and his vision had fully recovered, Oliver couldn't help but seek out information about Alice. There was something that just didn't add up. From what he had observed, his opponent seemed to rely heavily on a shield, and logically, most direct, long-range attacks should have been ineffective. But even with that knowledge, when he first stepped onto the battlefield, he still found himself donning that cumbersome, heavy armor. Why? He needed answers.
When he finally tracked down the details, the truth was unexpected. What he had initially perceived as a deliberate, bright aura emanating from Alice was, in fact, not something she controlled at all. It turned out to be a blessing, one that she couldn't switch on or off.
Most people could activate their blessings at will, turning them on when necessary and off when not. But hers? Hers was in a permanent passive state. The moment she entered a battle, it would automatically engage, without any conscious effort on her part.
Intrigued, Oliver couldn't help but ask, "So, what's the deal with that heavy armor then? I'm curious, but you don't strike me as someone who would just over-prepare."
Alice only smiled mysteriously. He shook his head, dismissing the unnecessary thoughts. It was just luck that allowed him to gather bits of information this time. Next time, he knew luck might not be on his side, so he would have to be better prepared.
However, due to the strict competition rules, critical information wouldn't be released until the day before each duel. Until then, there was no clear indication of the matchups. Even though people could guess who had reached the finals based on preliminary reports, the truth was that there were still quite a few surprises left in store.
The resurrection matches, where popular contestants who had been defeated were given a second chance to return to the finals, were still in full swing. Any contestant who garnered enough popularity and managed to defeat a certain number of others could advance directly. And with many spots yet to be confirmed, Oliver knew it was pointless to try and gather information on every participant. His plan was simple: wait until the final matchups were posted and focus his investigation on his next opponent.
For now, what he needed most was rest. His magic had been drained during the game, and the resulting disorientation left him staggering back to the temporary room where he was staying. His steps were unsteady, his mind weary.
Time had a strange way of dragging on when there was nothing to do. Each minute felt stretched, like it would never end. But after what seemed like an eternity, the next announcement finally appeared on the notice board. He hurried over, eager to see the next set of matchups.
"Is this it?" Oliver squinted at the list. It didn't look like the usual setup. Typically, the board would show tomorrow's duels and who would be facing whom. But today, all it displayed was a long list of contestant names, with no matchups at all.
Confused, he frowned, trying to make sense of it. "Did someone make a mistake?" he muttered to himself. Just as he turned to walk away, he saw someone approaching. It was the Vice Principal.
What is he doing here? Oliver wondered.
The Vice Principal walked up to him, his expression unreadable. "Here," he said, pulling out a hard card from inside his coat. "This is the ten thousand gold coins I promised. It's all stored in this card."
"Wait... what?" Oliver was taken aback. "Didn't you say that was only for those who make it into the top ten?"
The Vice Principal sighed, clearly irritated. "The rules have changed. That old man, the one overseeing the tournament, he changed the system again. If things get too dangerous, leave immediately. Understood?"
Oliver's curiosity spiked. "What exactly did he change?"
"Well, originally, the 30 winners from the resurrection matches were supposed to face the 60 finalists in one-on-one duels. If there was an odd number of contestants, one lucky person would automatically advance to the next round. That's how the rankings would be determined. But now..."
The Vice Principal looked away for a moment, clearly frustrated. "Now, he's decided it would be more 'challenging' to send all of you to another city; about four days from here. Once you get there, you'll have to survive for a full month. No financial support, no resources, nothing. It's a test of your abilities. If you make it, you move on. If not... well, you won't."
Oliver's heart raced. A survival challenge? With no support? The tournament just took an unexpected turn.
"Wait, what?" Oliver froze, his mind scrambling to process the information. "What do you mean by that?"
The Vice Principal let out a small sigh, his expression grim. "There's never been anything like this before. And the city they're sending you to..." His voice trailed off as he frowned, seeming reluctant to continue. "Let's just say it's not the kind of place you'd want to visit."
"Not a good place?" Oliver repeated, his curiosity now tinged with unease.
The Vice Principal hesitated for a moment, clearly trying to find the right words. "Have you heard of a group... a local force that goes by a certain name?" he asked, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret.
"What name?"
"The Black Crow Chamber of Commerce."
At the mention of the name, Oliver's brow furrowed involuntarily. The name stirred something inside him, though he couldn't quite place it. Still, he shook his head. "No, I haven't."
"Good," the Vice Principal muttered, though his tone was far from reassuring. "They're not an organization you'd want to be involved with. Officially, they don't break human laws. They keep their hands clean, at least on the surface. But just because they follow human rules doesn't mean they're harmless. They follow their own twisted code, and they're more than capable of hindering anyone who crosses their path. It's true this will be a valuable training opportunity, but I don't want you to lose sight of yourself. Don't let this challenge make you abandon your principles, no matter what the Principal thinks."
Oliver nodded slowly, his mind racing. "When do we leave?"
"This afternoon. Someone will escort you."
"Understood." He gave another nod, though the weight of the Vice Principal's words settled heavily on his shoulders.
As he watched the Vice Principal walk away, Oliver's expression darkened. The word "crow" echoed in his mind. Crows were scavengers, feasting on what others left behind, picking at the remains. But the Black Crow Chamber of Commerce? They weren't simply scavengers, they created their own "carrion."
This group was notorious for hiring mercenaries to raid vulnerable towns and villages, places where weaker races lived. Their first targets had been the elves, but as their power grew, so did their reach. They enslaved entire populations, transporting them to far-off lands and selling them for obscene amounts of gold. The Black Crow didn't just prey on the fallen; they made sure the fall happened in the first place.
Oliver shuddered. He had never been directly involved with the Black Crow, but their presence had been felt in his homeland. While those around him grew rich, accepting deals and moving on to wealthier cities, he had refused. Yet, what could he do? Their influence was vast, covering nearly every major city. While he had managed to rescue a few people in secret, the Black Crow's power was overwhelming, and there was little one person could do against them.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. Should I go or not? The question gnawed at him. He knew the risks. He knew the kind of danger that awaited him in that city. But then again, there was always a chance, just maybe, he might cross paths with an elf or someone in need, and he could help.
Forget it. I'll go.
Resolute now, Oliver turned and started walking back toward the dormitory. As he did, he glanced down at the card in his hand. "I've got until this afternoon," he muttered. "Might as well stock up on supplies."
If the journey was going to take more than three days, he would need to prepare. He considered buying stimulant medicine, something to keep him alert during the long, exhausting trip. And then there was his longbow. It had been damaged during his last battle, knocked from his hands by a particularly brutal blow. Even though it wasn't his primary weapon, he didn't feel right about abandoning it without repairs.
"I'd better hurry."
While the rules stated that there would be no financial support during the month-long trial, that didn't mean contestants couldn't bring items with them. Everyone knew this, though no one talked about just how much they planned to bring.
Let's hope no one goes overboard and gets caught, he thought, quickening his pace. Time was running out, and if he wanted to survive what lay ahead, he needed every advantage he could get.