Chapter 173: Do You Feel The Difference in Power? (12)

The rules of the individual tournament were simple: two participants would face off in a square ring that was fifty meters wide on all sides. Winners would move on to face other winners, while losers fought among themselves for a chance at redemption. In the end, only two would remain in the finals, and only one would emerge as the ultimate victor.

Doom, do-doom, doom, doom!

A deep drumbeat echoed through the arena, syncing with the audience’s heartbeat and amplifying the tension and anticipation.

Doo doo da-dum doo doom!

As the drumroll ended, a spotlight fell on the podium. The announcer, clutching a staff imbued with amplification magic, struck the ground.

Thud!

All eyes turned to the podium as the announcer’s voice resonated across the arena.

—This is the Ninth Sword of the South Tournament. Here are the current standings.

—From the battle royale, Group A’s top scorer is Rajis, Sword Dragon of Garcia. Group B’s top scorers are Keter Sefira, Henya Eslow, the Sword Witch, and Pashian, the Red Wolf of Galahind. Group C’s top scorer is Norman of Shadabon. From the team tournament, Group A’s top scorer is Rajis, and Group B’s top scorer is Pashian.

—Of the two hundred fifty-six total participants in the Ninth Sword of the South Tournament, thirty-seven have withdrawn due to personal circumstances or injury. The remaining two hundred nineteen will now prove their strength in the individual tournament.

As the announcer wrapped up, the audience was swept into nostalgia, recalling past matches. There had been many unforgettable moments, but none had left a stronger impression than Sefira.

It was their first time entering as archers. Though often dismissed as the weakest among the noble families, Anis and Taragon’s spectacular performances had shattered those rumors. And then came Keter. The mere thought of him gave the crowd goosebumps. With arrogance, boldness, overwhelming strength, and nonchalance, Keter charmed both women and men alike.

Of course, Sefira and Keter weren’t the only stars of the tournament. Though unattractive, Rajis, one of the Seven Dragons and a sword prodigy of the Garcia family, had shown power rivaling even Keter’s.

Henya, the only daughter of Lord Eslow revealed a new dimension of martial arts with her twin sword technique and Agile Footwork. In addition, Pashian captured the attention of many knights with Martial Spirit, a secret technique from the Adeus Kingdom.

Lastly, there was Norman, the rising star. His overwhelming strength was undeniable, but his sarcastic speech and brutal actions had earned him neither love from the citizens nor favor from the nobles.

As the announcer stirred the crowd with reminiscence, he continued.

—Among the two hundred nineteen heroes gathered to become the swordsman representing the south, the current top contenders for victory are as follows: Henya Til Eslow at thirteen points, Keter El Sefira at fourteen points, Norman Ken Shadabon at fourteen points, Rajis El Garcia at fifteen points, and Pashian Ken Galahind at fifteen points. Regrettably, Pashian Ken Galahind will not participate in the individual tournament due to personal circumstances.

A murmur spread through the crowd at the news of Pashian’s withdrawal.

“We deserve an explanation!”

“I was looking forward to his rematch with Lord Keter!”

“I wanted to see how he’d fare against Sir Rajis!”

Despite the outcry, the announcer ignored them, as he didn’t know the reason either. In truth, no one did, not even the Marquis Galahind, Pashian’s own father-in-law, who was so enraged by the sudden disappearance that he was nearly beside himself with fury. Even the knights who followed Pashian had gone missing, leaving Galahind no choice but to believe Pashian had betrayed him.

There was no way for them to know that Pashian and his men had all been devoured by Norman, the Transparent Slime from the Demon Capital.

To settle the commotion, the announcer pointed his staff at a section of the stands. Up to this point, seating had been divided into two categories: general and noble. But now, a new section at the center, previously hidden behind a magical barrier, was revealed.

—Let us greet the two hundred nineteen champions who will adorn the Ninth Sword of the South Tournament with applause and cheers!

At the announcer’s cry, the magical barrier vanished, revealing the tournament participants. A new system had been implemented: rather than waiting in a separate room, contestants watched the matches with the audience until it was their turn to enter the ring.

With the warriors now in plain sight, the crowd erupted in cheers.

“Wow!!!”

“It’s Sir Keter! He’s right there in the center!”

“Lady Henya’s sitting right beside him!”

“Sir Keter just waved!”

Most of the participants remained motionless, either preserving their dignity, paralyzed with nerves, or simply shy. But one man—Keter—rose from his seat and waved to the crowd.

“He looked at me! He looked at me!”

“Idiot! He was looking at the screen!”

Smooch

.

Keter blew a kiss, and the female fans went wild.

“He... he kissed me! That kiss was for me!”

“Shut it, you orc-faced bitch! He obviously meant me!”

“Says the one who looks like a goblin grandmother!”

Keter’s every little gesture sent the audience into a frenzy. Then suddenly, everyone stopped. This time, the announcer hadn’t intervened. No one spoke, and no one moved; it was their instinct as living organisms. They sensed a presence, feeling awe for it like it was the universe.

“...”

The presence said nothing, but everyone knew he was there: Lord Eslow, the Weaponmaster and the Lord of the South. He stepped onto the podium.

Clang!

The Iron Knights under Eslow’s command, all knights sworn to defend the arena, dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. The announcer went so far as to lie flat on the ground in a display of absolute submission. The audience, nobles included, couldn’t even lift their eyes to meet his gaze. The most they could do was look at his feet.

Eslow remained silent. He looked up at the clear sky, then down at the empty ring. Finally, he swept his gaze across the stands from right to center and paused.

“...”

He was looking at the section where the participants were sitting. The greatest knights of the south dared not meet his eyes and quickly turned away, except for five: Jordic the Spear Dragon, Rajis the Sword Dragon, Henya, Norman, and lastly, Keter. Those five alone met Eslow’s gaze head-on.

* * *

So he’s aiming for the championship after all.

Eslow stared at Keter from the stands. He didn’t even flinch under his gaze. Instead, he met it head-on, with a smile, no less. But that confidence didn’t come from ignorance or simple strength. It was something deeper. He had the nerve, and he had pride. Keter carried a certainty that even if Eslow tried to harm him, he could withstand it—that he wouldn’t lose.

He’s so intriguing that I want to just tear him apart.

Eslow was suddenly reminded of the time when he had still been human. Back then, he too had been like Keter—overflowing with confidence, defying convention, and breaking boundaries. He bent the world to his will. He sought out the strongest and defeated them. He didn’t fear the unknown, but faced it head-on. Even before overwhelming power, he never lost composure.

He saw traces of that past self in Keter.

Given enough time, you too will reach where I now stand.

A five-star Master was said to be the peak of what a human could achieve: they were a being with the maximum aura capacity of a hundred years. A six-star Grandmaster broke that limit; the body itself transformed and evolved to accept and wield near-limitless aura.

And at seven-star Prime, one became something beyond human. They imposed their will upon the world, bent physical law, and intervened with mere thought. From that point on, even their perception of the world changed. Though still technically human, they weren’t actually one.

Eslow wondered if Keter would remain the same, even when he reached Prime, because Eslow had changed. He resisted it at first and denied it, but eventually became what he was now. A six-star Grandmaster ruled the world, but a seven-star Prime discussed the world. It wasn’t taught, but one simply came to understand.

If you survive long enough to reach it, that is.

The world was not kind. Even to those who transcended humanity, complacency could mean death.

Eslow’s gaze drifted from Keter and stopped at a seemingly ordinary man, who always smiled with his mouth closed.

That monster... Norman, was it? A monster masquerading as a human...

When Eslow first heard reports from his subordinates that Norman didn’t seem human, he didn’t care at all.

“If that creature follows human law and fights in human form, then there’s no reason he can’t participate in the tournament.”

To him, Norman was an extraordinary monster. He didn’t know what Norman really was, but he estimated him to be at least an A-tier Named Monster.

Well, that’s one more hidden bit of entertainment in this tournament. I’m curious what he will do if he wins and becomes the Sword of the South.

Eslow then looked elsewhere. His interest in the monster Norman had already ended. In this tournament, the one who truly irritated him wasn’t Norman or Keter—it was Ailos.

So you haven’t given up.

Ailos, a handsome man in a blue uniform, sat in the crowd in the general seating area. Even as their eyes met, Ailos did not look away. He gave Eslow a cute grin.

All the bombs have been removed. The traitors have been captured. The imperial agent fled the city. So what exactly do you think you’re going to do alone?

Eslow had allowed Ailos and Kai’s scheming to go unchecked, hoping to uncover their true motives, but that was now no longer necessary. Kai had already left the city; he vanished without a trace, covering his tracks completely.

So, Eslow dealt with all the things he had disregarded, including removing the bombs in the underground sewers and rooting out the traitors who helped Ailos.

High Noble Casper Galahind; Low Nobles Victor Arden Burke, Quentin Hagenbach, Stephan Inghardt, and Joaquin Derpen; Calvin, the primus pilus of the Public Security Army, Alistair Grimstone, captain of the ninth division of the Order of the Iron Knights...

Eslow had rounded up all forty agents involved, including the seven main conspirators, and either executed or locked them away in underground cells.

The disappearances and Undead sightings in the city seem to be connected to you.

Ailos was doing everything he could to hide it, but Eslow could sense the suffocating stench of black magic on Ailos.

Hmph. I've cut down hundreds of dark mages with my sword.

Though more than two meters separated them, Eslow knew that if he wanted, he could behead Ailos in the blink of an eye, but he didn’t. He was curious what Ailos would do, and he was confident he could stop it, no matter what it was.

It’s not a bad time to remind everyone what it means to be one of the Four Lords.

Eslow, whose humanity had slightly returned again thanks to Keter, saw no harm in reminding the people what true authority looked like. It would send a clear message that no matter who stood against him or what they attempted, nothing would work on him.

* * *

The moment Norman locked eyes with Eslow, his human disguise nearly unraveled.

S-so this is a lord... Definitely not someone I can underestimate just because he’s human.

Norman had thought that he may be able to absorb Eslow if given the right opportunity, even if he was a seven-star Prime, but he immediately abandoned that thought.

I’ll have to keep up the act completely in front of him. I can’t afford to make a mistake like I did with Pashian.

When he fought Pashian during the team tournament, it wouldn’t have mattered if he had been attacked. From a human’s perspective, losing an arm would be a life-ending injury for a swordsman, but for Norman, it meant nothing. He was a slime, and he could just reattach it.

𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Still, he instinctively dodged using physical abilities far beyond what a human was capable of. Thankfully, he killed Pashian immediately after, so there were no lingering witnesses. However, revealing his true nature in front of the lord would be far too dangerous.

If he’s a lord, he can probably see everything within hundreds of meters.

Even if Eslow were to uncover Norman’s true identity, Norman wasn’t particularly worried. As long as his core survived, he wouldn’t die. He could regenerate endlessly as long as the core remained intact. If it came down to it, he could simply abandon Norman’s body, possess another human body, and pretend to be dead.

A privilege no lowly human could ever imitate. Hehehe...

Norman hated how the humans called him a Transparent Slime.

I’m not a monster; I’m a superior being. One day, I’ll become the progenitor of humanoid slimes and rule over you primitive humans.

He believed humans only ruled the world because of their numbers, not because they were strong. Given a few centuries, he was certain he could change that.

So long as I get through this tournament and absorb Keter... Hehehe... that alone would mark half of my plan’s success.

Norman glanced between Rajis and Keter.

Rajis, the Sword Dragon...

Norman hadn’t fought him yet, but his instinct as a swordsman told him that Rajis was powerful. Still, he wasn’t worried he would lose. Every sword technique had its weaknesses and counters. For example, swift sword techniques were weak against destructive sword techniques, and illusion sword techniques were weak against power sword techniques.

Norman had absorbed countless swordsmen along with their techniques. As such, he had mastered every style: swift, destructive, dynamic, illusion, fluid, heavy, and power sword. He had no reason to lose to a swordsman.

But there was still one area where Norman lacked knowledge.

I don’t know enough about fighting archers.

He had observed Sefira’s archers during the tournament so far, but that wasn’t enough to fully identify their weaknesses.

I’ll have to drag it into a long-term battle by defending to wear down their stamina and aura.

Though a monster, Norman thought like a human, especially after absorbing Pashian, a seasoned mercenary. As he had also absorbed Pashian’s experience, he was certain that he would need a war of attrition to beat Keter. Archers were physically weaker, and they consumed aura at a far higher rate than swordsmen.

And I have unlimited stamina and aura.

He may not know how to counter an archer, but he was confident in his victory nonetheless.

* * *

Eslow, I can’t wait to see that smug face of yours twist in despair.

Ailos, sitting unnoticed among the crowd, smiled up at Eslow, who had recognized him.

Judging by your reaction, you still don’t know I have the Dark Pages.

He glanced sidelong at the Sefira brothers.

I’ll applaud you for just telling a few nobles and not the lord. That saved me the hassle of adjusting my plans.

Myle, Anis, and Taragon had learned of Ailos’ plan through Keter. However, they opposed Keter’s suggestion to leave things alone, as he was afraid of what Ailos might do if his plan was stopped. Keter told them that if they disagreed with him, they should do what they thought was right.

In the end, the brothers chose not to inform Eslow, but to discreetly share the information with trustworthy nobles in order to prevent disaster. That way, they could align with Keter’s wishes while still minimizing casualties.

But they underestimated Ailos. He had his own spies, even among the nobles, and the brothers lacked the ability to sniff them out. As such, Ailos learned about the fact that the brothers were coordinating with nobles to prepare for the attack.

You probably didn’t tell them to do that. I know you, and you would have just stood back and watched.

Ailos didn’t change his plan, as the Sefira brothers and some nobles preparing defenses against the Undead didn’t disrupt his plan. However, that didn’t mean he would forgive them for revealing it.

You’re just Keter’s toys. What gives you the right to get in the middle of this?

Originally, Ailos only intended to tie down Eslow. Sure, some civilians and nobles would die in the process, but that wasn’t the goal.

Suggesting we protect the citizens... how perfectly noble of you. I guess you were trying to play the hero, but...

When convincing the nobles, the brothers had proposed protecting civilians, which only worsened Ailos’ mood.

...but more people will die because of your pretentious righteousness.

Ailos decided to assign a separate Undead battalion just for them to slaughter civilians instead of targeting Eslow.

Keter, I’m curious how you will react. You said they were your family, not your toys. Will you protect them? Or ignore them?

Eslow, the Lord of the South, Norman, the monster from the Demon Capital, and Ailos, the Lich, were different races and had different goals, but they shared one thing in common: they were all watching Keter.

At that moment, Elsow withdrew his power that was pressuring the entire area and slowly announced, “Let the match begin.”

The crowd, as if nothing had happened, erupted into cheers once more. The announcer quickly resumed the flow of the event. Soon, the first two participants climbed into the square ring.

The referee, wasting no time, raised his hand above his head and then swung it down sharply as he bellowed, “Fight!”

The two knights seemed to have grown tired of waiting. They charged at each other, swords already clashing in the air.

Clang!!

It was a thunderous roar that signaled the true beginning of the final event in the Sword of the South Tournament: the individual tournament.