“Winner, Zeke Klein from the Upper ss!!!” us dered.
The audience roared in amazement and cheers. Of course, they did! For such a splendid match, anything less would have been an insult.
The arena was still crackling with electricity, and charred marks filled the stage. There was no morous destruction thanks to the enhancements added to the tform beforehand, but the remnant scars on the floor proved enough of the match’s intensity.
Of course, it was inevitable that an Upper-ss Elite would win, but it was still a bit of a shock—no, downright unbelievable—how poorly the Middle-ss Student fared.
There was toorge a gap between the two that it felt like a Third Year was fighting a beginner. The way Zeke easily won against his opponent, using his destructive lightning sts to counter all areas before the Wind Mage could get any closer was impressive.
And so, after only a few minutes since the start of the match… the victor was announced.
‘Damn it…’ Jerry gulped and gave a shivering thought.
He shuddered at the thought of actually fighting such a devastating fellow… and the Zeke guy was only top six!
What if he fought against someone who was of a higher rank? Would he stand a chance?
It wasn’t like Jerry wasn’t aware of his strength, but…
“Next, we have…” us Tallman announced, forcing the boy’s head to bob high in order to see who would be chosen next.
To Jerry’s relief… it wasn’t him!
The contestants approached the stage, ready to begin the next round.
Of course, the crowd, at this point, were in a frenzy!
Never had they seen such brilliant disy of Magic—well, other than a few matches among some exceptional folks in the previous rounds—none came close.
The next group of contestants consisted of two Martial Artists and a Magic-User.
Unlike the official Exchange among students which strictly divided the matches based on departments, the Elite Tournament did not follow such protocols.
To fully maximize the effects of an exciting match and simte what actualbat was like, they pit members of separate divisions against each other.
Due to school policy, no Schr could be a member of the Elite Ten, unless they had specialization in Magic Combat or Martial Arts.
That meant those who were in fact Schrs, needed to be able to fight!
Among the Rankers, there was only one Schr, and among the thirty Elite students in Ainrk, five belonged to the Schr Department.
That showed just how few academically driven students were among the strongest in the school!
The fight about to unfold, however, had no Schr among the contestants.
Jerry diligently observed as all three were about to fight.
He could perhaps learn a thing or two from their exchange!
“Begin!”
It only took a few seconds—no, probably just one—for a voice to screech out.
“I give up!”
As expected… it came from none other than a member of the Lower ss!
********************
“I give up!”
********************
“I no longer wish to participate!”
********************
“I surrender!”
********************
“I forfeit!”
**********************
No matter the kind ofnguage used, those words essentially meant the same thing, and they came from the same group of people!
That’s right! The Lower ss Elite Ten!
Out of the six matches that had urred so far, the Lower ss Elites had forfeited every single one.
It was no longer a surprise when they raised their shameless hands to dere their intention to surrender.
The crowd had long grown tired of booing them and had nowe to look at them with disdain. For all they cared, this was no longer a match among three sses, but among two.
But, could it really be called a match?
Despite the Middle ss’ unyielding effort to try surpassing those of the Upper ss, none hade out victorious.
Win after Win… everything went to the Upper-ss Elite Ten!
The current scores were like this;
Upper ss— 6 Wins 0 Losses
Middle ss— 0 Wins 6 Losses
Lower ss— 0 Wins 6 Losses
Since forfeiting automatically meant a loss, the Lower ss took on the same position as those who had actually been fighting with all they had, but still ended up losing—the Elites of the Middle ss.
In a way, one could say the Middle ss was no different from the Lower ss.
They were both overwhelmingly ced at the losing end, with no sign of victory!
Jerry sped his hands together to keep them from shaking as he saw the list surface again. Would it be his turn now? The boy’s heart thumped uncontrobly, not knowing what his fate would be.
GULP!
Finally, the names appeared… and for the first time since the lists began surfacing, Jerry did not sigh in relief. No, it was the opposite actually.
His eyes widened in shock, perhaps a bit of fear. Sweat dripped from his face as his dry lips smacked against each other. He forced himself to swallow the nonexistent saliva in his throat as the names registered in his brain.
[Seventh Round]
— Ciara Epilson (Upper ss)
—Roy Lesryio (Middle ss)
— Jeremy Elly (Lower ss)
[Contestants Get On Stage!]
Jerry’s name was not on the list, but the people who would now contest piques a great deal of his interest.
The Middle ss and Lower ss contestants were surprisingly both of the first ranks respectively.
Was it coincidence, or a glitch in the randomizer?
How could two students who had the highest rankpete on the same stage? That was a recipe for disaster!
Still, that wasn’t Jerry’s major concern.
The one who caught all of his focus—at least ny percent of it, to be exact—was the Upper-ss Elite who had already stood and was making her way to the stage—
—Ciara Epilson!
She was the one who would be fighting in the next round.
The gasps and shrieks of the audience were so deafening that Jerry could barely hear his own thoughts.
What was on his mind? Was it excitement as well? Was the boy looking forward to seeing how much Ciara had grown after theirst exchange?
Perhaps…
… But a stronger feeling crept up in his heart. It was fear!
How much stronger had she gotten ever since thest time they actually interacted? Well, Jerry would soon see.
What frightened the determined young boy, though… was whether he would still have the courage to continue after experiencing it!