"The speed is indeed a little faster than mine."
Feitan squinted his eyes as he commented.
As an expert in speed, he could still gauge the opponent's strength through subtle movements.
"However, it's only a little bit faster than me, and I'll catch up soon!"
"Hahaha! Still as stubborn as ever, Fei... what are you doing, Feitan!!"
Phinks, who was laughing mercilessly beside him, was suddenly cut short when an umbrella jabbed him in the face.
"You're too loud"
On the other side, Uvogin stared blankly at the TV.
"No fun~"
He lazily picked his nose with his pinky and flicked a black blob onto Nobunaga, who instantly exploded with rage.
"You a**hole, do you want to die?!!"
...
As Uvogin and Nobunaga started brawling, elsewhere in Heavens Arena, Ronnel made his way to the waiting area while casually inspecting the glowing orb he had touched.
"Obtained a ball of pure Nen."
There wasn't much to say about it, so he simply slapped it on his forehead, immediately feeling a slight increase in his Nen's intensity and energy.
Even for Ronnel, the Nen of a Floor Master level was impressive.
"Acquired martial arts talent, intermediate level."
This wasn't of much use, so he tossed it into his space backpack, intending to synthesize it later.
"Obtained the ancestral sword of Subai from the Northern School, which only Leaders may wield."
Huh? A sword this time?
With a thought, a slender blue sword with a faint glow appeared in Ronnel's hand.
The blade was incredibly sharp and was clearly a rare weapon.
After playing with it for a moment, Ronnel stored it away.
Now equipped with both a sword and a saber, he had more options in battle.
Returning to the waiting area, Ronnel sensed a strange tension in the room but paid it no mind, finding a clean spot to sit and practice Nen.
The other contestants were still fighting outside, and it was time for a break.
After all, it was impossible to finish all sixteen preliminary rounds in one morning.
To maximize the promotional effect and sustain high ratings for several days, Heavens Arena deliberately extended the tournament duration.
Vendors and casinos surrounding the venue also thrived, drawing in large crowds and generating booming business.
Moreover, not to mention the ratings, each contestant needed ample time to heal and recover after every match.
In short, the Battle Olympia was not something that could be completed in a single day.
Ronnel knew there was probably nothing left for him to do today. If the officials at Heavens Arena hadn't announced earlier that they would be revealing important information at night, he would have left long ago.
As time ticked away and the sunset neared, the waiting area became brightly lit, and the once-crowded arena began to quiet down, with only the commentator's voice still echoing.
Ronnel opened his eyes, realizing there were only sixteen contestants left, himself included.
He was one of the winners of today's preliminary rounds.
Five matches were held in the morning, six in the afternoon, and five in the evening, completing the preliminary round entirely.
"Well, first of all, congratulations to all the contestants who passed the preliminaries. The rematch is scheduled for three days from now. Please use this time to adjust yourselves."
The young lady who had handled the morning's draw stepped in, carrying a wooden box in her arms. She announced the time of thematches and placed the box back in its original spot, though she didn't leave right away.
"We'd like to ask all contestants: would you prefer to redraw lots for the rematch order, or stick with the original lineup?"
Before she could finish speaking, someone impatiently shouted:
"Re-draw the lots!!!"
It was the short, dark green-skinned Floor Master who had spoken, and anyone could hear the anxiety in his tone.
According to the original order, his next opponent would be Ronnel.
Seeing his eagerness, several other contestants, including the bandaged contestant and the silver-needle user, exchanged glances before nodding and agreeing in unison:
"We prefer to stick with the original lots."
"What?!!"
The short contestant was stunned, his face flushing with anger as he pointed accusingly at the others, too furious to speak.
"Understood."
Ignoring his desperate outburst, the young lady calmly picked up the wooden box again.
"Then please prepare carefully for the next round, Mr. Floor Masters. We'll see you all in three days."
With that, she gracefully left the room, taking the box with her.
Several contestants discreetly sighed in relief.
Ronnel, having observed the entire scene, dusted off his clothes and headed for the exit.
But before leaving, his eyes briefly glanced in a certain direction.
In that direction stood a large, blonde man with flowing golden hair, arms crossed, staring back at him.
It was Sparka, the champion of the last Battle Olympia, known as the "Holy Gun Knight."
Ronnel met his gaze for less than a second before looking away.
As the previous champion, Sparka was undoubtedly one of the top contenders for this year's tournament. His presence was a looming threat.
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