A tremor shook the arena as the twelfth fight ended brutally.

A colossal warrior named Ironshade crushed his opponent's shield with bare hands.

Aria whispered, "…Okay, that one's dangerous."

Rhys's eyes narrowed. "Definitely someone to note."

Lyra folded her arms. "He might be your semifinal opponent."

Puddle hid behind Rhys's collar. "That guy scary…"

As the qualifiers continued into the afternoon…

The fights didn't slow down. The talent on display only grew sharper.

Rhys watched every single match.

Not with fear—

but with the calm focus of someone preparing for what came next.

Sophia glanced at him and nodded to herself.

"You're ready. One win at a time, Rhys."

Aria stretched. "And we'll be right here cheering."

Caria adjusted her glasses. "And recording everything for future strategy."

Lyra placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "Just don't forget to breathe."

Puddle curled into his lap. "Master rest. Long day."

Rhys smiled faintly, eyes never leaving the arena.

"Yeah. But this is good. I need to see all of them."

The sun dipped lower, turning the arena gold as the last matches of the day thundered to a close.

A greatsword warrior shattered his opponent's guard.

A dual-blade dancer carved precise arcs of steel through the air.

A spell-swordsman weaved fire-edge slashes in tight, controlled bursts.

Every match ended with roars from the crowd.

Finally, the sky darkened, torches lit, and the arena runes glowed brightly overhead:

"Day 3 Qualifiers — COMPLETE."

"Remaining Contenders: 24."

"Final Qualifier Day — Tomorrow."

The arena erupted with applause.

Aria stretched with a groan. "Finally! My legs are giving up."

Caria packed her notes. "Tomorrow decides the final bracket…"

Sophia nodded. "Tomorrow decides who enters the Grand Stage."

Lyra smiled at Rhys. "And you need a proper rest tonight."

Puddle clung to his shoulder like a tiny scarf. "Master no more fight… Puddle sleepy…"

Rhys rolled his shoulders. "Yeah. Let's go."

They walked out with the dispersing crowd, the arena glowing behind them like a massive lantern as twilight settled.

Rhys glanced back once.

Tomorrow… one more day of qualifiers.

Then the real battles begin.

DAY 4 — FINAL QUALIFIER DAY

Morning arrived with a cool breeze and the sound of clashing steel echoing from the arena.

But Rhys wasn't fighting in the morning.

This time—

His match was scheduled for the evening.

Third-to-last.

Meaning he had the entire morning and afternoon to rest…

to observe…

and to think.

Puddle sat on his head, munching an imaginary snack.

"Master lucky! No morning fight! Sleep more!"

Rhys smirked. "I wasn't sleeping that much."

Aria poked his cheek. "You could've fooled me."

Sophia gestured toward the arena. "Come on. Let's watch."

Caria opened her notebook. "I'll record their styles."

Lyra placed a hand on Rhys's arm. "And I'll make sure you don't tense up."

Morning Matches — Quick, Sharp, Brutal

A longsword knight overwhelmed his opponent with pure pressure.

A sword-mage ignited his blade with lightning for explosive bursts.

A curved-blade duelist used perfect footwork to dismantle a heavy-shield user.

Rhys watched every detail.

Sophia murmured, "Your opponent will come from the aggressive-strike bracket. Learn their habits."

Rhys nodded.

Afternoon Matches — Even More Intense

Ironshade fought again.

This time against a blade-tank—

a warrior known for enduring sword blows.

But Ironshade crushed him easily.

A single downward punch cracked the arena floor, breaking the tank's stance.

Then Ironshade gripped his opponent's sword and snapped it in half with brute force.

Aria swallowed. "…He's even worse today."

Lyra frowned. "He's treating qualifiers like warm-ups."

Puddle hid inside Rhys's coat. "Big scary man…"

Rhys exhaled slowly.

Yeah.

Ironshade was a monster.

But today, Rhys wasn't fighting him.

Late Afternoon — The crowd thickened

Only five matches remained.

The sun dipped, painting the arena orange.

Caria rapidly flipped her notes. "Two more fights before your bracket."

Sophia leaned in. "Don't overthink—just stay loose."

Aria cracked her knuckles. "We'll scream your name the loudest."

Lyra squeezed Rhys's shoulder. "Breathe."

Puddle booped his nose. "Master win!"

Rhys chuckled. "I'll try."

The announcement boomed across the arena:

"NEXT — FINAL THREE MATCHES OF DAY 4 QUALIFIERS."

"FIRST MATCH: NORIN VS KALVA."

"SECOND MATCH: SERINYA VS BELTH."

"THIRD MATCH… RHYS VS—"

The entire arena went quiet.

The rune displayed:

"RHYS VS VERA NIGHTSONG — Rank 23."

Aria blinked. "Oh… the elf swordswoman?"

Sophia's expression tightened. "She's fast. Faster than Kazel."

Caria nearly dropped her notebook. "Her blade technique is very clean… very sharp."

Lyra said softly, "You'll need both magic and swordsmanship."

Puddle gasped. "Elf lady! Pointy ears! Master fight her?"

Rhys stood up.

Calm.

Focused.

"It's my turn."

The arena roared—

and the gate slowly opened.

The heavy gate rumbled upward, dust falling from the old metal as the arena lights brightened.

Rhys stepped forward.

On the other side, Vera Nightsong was already waiting—an elf with silver hair braided behind her shoulder, her posture straight, her blade resting lightly in her hand like it weighed nothing.

Her eyes locked onto Rhys the moment he entered.

The crowd leaned in.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

Elf swordswoman…

Rank 23…

Fastest blade among the qualifiers…

Vera tilted her head slightly, her voice smooth and calm:

"I have seen you fight. You almost perfectly merge magic and swordsmanship… but that alone won't win against me."

Rhys let out a small breath and answered lightly:

"So… if I beat you, do I get a date?"

The arena went dead silent.

Aria screamed from the stands, "HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT!"

Sophia covered her face.

Caria nearly fainted.

Lyra froze mid-cheer.

Puddle shook violently on Rhys's shoulder.

"MASTER NO FLIRT NOW—BAD TIMING!"

But Vera?

She didn't blush.

She didn't get angry.

She smiled.

A sharp, predatory smile.

"Among elves, we always choose a spouse stronger than us. So yes… if you defeat me, I am yours."

Rhys blinked hard.

"…I was joking."

Vera's smile grew wider.

"It is tradition where I come from."

Rhys opened his mouth, confused.

"Wait—seriously?"

She nodded once.

"But of course," she added softly, her tone sharpening like a blade, "if someone weak tries to court us… the ending is not good."

She stepped closer, eyes narrowing with challenge.

"So fight well. Or die embarrassed."

Rhys swallowed.

Puddle whispered, "Master… she scary… but also pretty…"

Vera raised her sword in a clean, perfect stance.

The arena roared as the announcer shouted:

"MATCH STARTING — RHYS VS VERA NIGHTSONG!"

Magic pressure filled the air.

Rhys summoned his mana.

[Mana Shield] — Activated

A faint glow wrapped around him.

Vera's smile sharpened even more.

"Good. Try not to disappoint me, future husband… or corpse."

She vanished—

Skill: [Moonstep]

A blur of silver light shot toward Rhys—

And the fight truly began.

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