Although the rise in the price of two types of Nen abilities had caused unrest, it wasn't enough to faze Ronnel.
With a wave of his hand, the dark clouds scattered, leaving the sky clear.
It felt almost like visiting a tourist spot, though the eerie atmosphere of the cemetery was impossible to ignore.
Bisky, standing proudly beside Ronnel, looked around with satisfaction. She hadn't paid much attention to this tomb when they arrived earlier, but now it seemed like a perfect place to show off her disciple.
"A master is only as good as their student. If you starve, it's because you've trained the wrong ones," she said smugly. "But my disciples? They make me proud. If something's bothering you, you should probably go find him. He'll take care of it."
She puffed up her chest with pride, though her small figure made it an odd sight, resembling little more than steamed buns.
Shizuku remained quiet beside them, not because she was indifferent, but because she truly believed that nothing could disturb Ronnel.
The three walked at a steady pace through the graveyard. They were waiting for the Amethyst Grape Crystal to bloom, a rare moment that happened only at sunset. When it blossomed, its beauty was said to overwhelm anyone who saw it.
If picked at just the right time, the crystal could fetch a fortune. However, navigating the cemetery was no easy task. The air was thick with the resentment of the dead, and corpse poison lingered everywhere. Anyone hoping to claim the prize would need to survive until evening to collect it—and fend off other competitors.
When they finally saw human figures ahead, Ronnel knew they had reached their destination.
A twisted wisteria vine had wrapped itself around the tallest tombstone, its tendrils bearing clusters of seven crystal-like fruits.
The Amethyst Grape Crystal—and it was fully matured.
But for now, the crystals looked dull, waiting for the right moment to reveal their brilliance. Around the vine, several individuals stood, carefully avoiding the miasma and wary of each other.
They knew this wasn't just a competition against the tomb's traps—this was a battlefield, where betrayal was always a possibility.
Ronnel's sharp senses picked up on their aura.
"Seven of them," he noted quietly. Strong ones too—at least by average standards. Any one of them could contend for a position as a Floor Master at Heavens Arena.
Yet, as Ronnel's gaze swept over the group, he froze on two individuals. Recognition flashed across his face.
"Well, well… I didn't expect to run into you two here."
The two individuals stiffened instantly, their faces turning pale.
"R-Ronnel?!"
Both men—the Silver Needle Floor Master and the Bandage Floor Master—stared in horror as Ronnel locked eyes with them. Their bodies trembled uncontrollably.
"It's them," Ronnel murmured to himself, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "We met at the Battle Olympia, didn't we?"
The two Floor Masters remembered all too well. They had faced Ronnel at the Battle Olympia—and they had witnessed firsthand what a monster he was. None of his opponents had walked away alive.
Even Sparka, the reigning champion, had crumbled after only a few moves. Not even his strongest Nen abilities had left so much as a scratch on Ronnel.
Now, standing in the same graveyard as him, both men felt dread settle in their bones.
"What are the odds..." one whispered in disbelief.
"Yeah… what do we do now?" the other muttered anxiously.
They exchanged desperate glances, hoping the other would make a move first. But they knew: if they acted rashly, it might provoke Ronnel—and that would spell the end of them both.
"You try it."
"Why don't you try it?!"
While the two Floor Masters argued silently with their eyes, Ronnel tilted his head to look at the sky.
The sun was beginning to set. It was almost time for the crystal to bloom.
With a casual step forward, Ronnel broke the tense silence.
"!"
All seven individuals turned toward him at once, their attention now fully locked on the man in front of them.
Ronnel smiled gently, but there was an unsettling sharpness behind it.
"I'm sorry, everyone. We're going to take the Amethyst Grape Crystal now. Thanks for coming, but I'll have to ask you to leave."
The silence that followed was suffocating. For a moment, no one moved.
Then came the sneers.
Who did this fool think he was? Asking them to leave? They weren't just some nobodies—each of them was here because they had the strength to compete for the crystal.
As if a few polite words could scare them off.
But before anyone could voice their disdain, there was a sudden rustle—two figures sprang to their feet.
It was the Silver Needle Floor Master and the Bandage Floor Master.
Without a word, they turned and hurried off, leaving the others behind in stunned silence.
Their escape was so sudden that, if not for the toxic air around the tombs, the others might have followed suit. The sheer relief and fear on their faces were unmistakable as they fled, as if they had just escaped certain death.
Everyone else stared in disbelief at the two retreating figures, now mere specks in the distance.
When the Floor Masters were finally out of sight, Ronnel chuckled softly. "Well, what about the rest of you?"
No one answered.
The mocking grins faded from their faces, replaced by grim seriousness.
Two of the strongest in the group, had abandoned the fight without hesitation. And if those two had run... what did that say about the man in front of them?
Slowly, one by one, the others began to back away.
Ronnel watched them with a calm expression, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement.
The crystal would bloom soon—and it would be his.
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