The referee stood frozen for a heartbeat, mouth half open as he glanced at the boy sprawled outside the ring and the one still staggering back from Viola’s strike. Then, with a sharp motion, he raised his flag.

“Match over! Victory to Viola Torvares and Ludger!”

For a second, the silence lingered. Then came the sound of a cane slamming against wood.

Lord Torvares was already on his feet, eyes blazing, his booming voice rolling over the stands like a battle cry. “YES! That is how Torvares fights! Well done!”

His cane struck the railing again, and again, each crack loud enough to make the nearest nobles flinch. Arslan whooped beside him, clapping his party members on the back, while Harold pounded the air with both fists, shouting himself hoarse. Even Selene allowed herself a sharp nod, and Aleia was laughing, sharp and bright.

The old lord’s excitement spread like fire through dry grass. The hesitant murmurs of the audience shifted, then swelled. A ripple of cheers broke out in one corner of the stands, then another, until the entire arena was roaring—chanting, clapping, stamping their feet.

“Torvares! Torvares!”

“Viola! Ludger!”

The names rose like thunder, rolling across the stone and rattling the air.

Viola turned to the crowd, her chest rising and falling with pride, emerald eyes gleaming as she raised her dulled sword high. The cheers redoubled, her grin widening with every shout of her name.

Ludger, standing beside her with his arms still lifted in guard, exhaled slowly. His lips twitched into the faintest smirk as the wave of noise pressed down on him. So this is what momentum feels like. Guess the old bull got what he wanted.

Above them, Lord Torvares lifted his cane one final time, face flushed with pride, his voice cutting above even the roar of thousands.

“Let the capital remember this day—Torvares blood will not be denied!”

The crowd erupted, the cheers no longer just for a family name, but for two children who had shown they were far from ordinary.

“What in the hell just happened down there? One second, they’re trading blows, and the next—bang! Kid goes flying, sword snaps in half! That wasn’t normal strength.”

Aleia leaned forward on the railing, her sly smile faltering. “I’ve been watching those two for years, and even I didn’t see that coming. They weren’t just swinging harder—they timed something.”

Selene crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. “It wasn’t raw strength. Both of them… enhanced themselves in the last instant.”

Arslan blinked, still half laughing in disbelief. “Enhanced?”

Cor adjusted his spectacles, nodding gravely. “Overdrive. That flash of power—that’s the tell. Viola poured hers into her strike, which shattered her opponent’s weapon and forced him back. Ludger used his the opposite way, reinforcing his guard. That’s why the other boy’s sword broke.”

The party exchanged glances.

Selene continued, voice steady. “And Viola didn’t just use Overdrive. She stacked it with Weapon Enhancing. That’s why her swing crushed the boy’s blade outright instead of just bending it. Overdrive fed her body, Weapon Enhancing fed the weapon. The combination is devastating… if you can pull it off.”

Aleia whistled low. “So that’s why the poor fools didn’t even know what hit them. Kids their age wouldn’t expect that kind of layered technique.”

Harold rubbed the back of his neck, still grinning despite himself. “Hah! Sneaky little brats. Can’t believe they pulled it off without anyone noticing.”

Cor’s eyes flicked back to the ring where Ludger and Viola stood under the roar of the crowd. His tone softened, but his words were certain. “That wasn’t Viola’s idea. She doesn’t plan like that. No… that was Ludger. He must’ve told her to hold back, wait until the right moment, then strike together.”

Selene nodded, agreeing for once. “It was his strategy. Using Viola’s strength to grab attention, while he waited for the perfect opening to add his own force. Smart. Very smart.”

Arslan finally stopped laughing, his smile turning wry as he scratched his cheek. “That boy… First he acts like he doesn’t care, and now he’s orchestrating victories like a chess player. Elaine’s going to kill me if she hears he’s already using Overdrive in public.”

Lord Torvares didn’t turn, didn’t speak, but the proud gleam in his eyes said enough. He had noticed too.

Harold leaned back in his seat, still shaking his head, his grin wide. “So let me get this straight. Our little firebrand and the pint-sized strategist just pulled off a double Overdrive plus Weapon Enhancing in front of half the nobility of the realm. If that doesn’t get the whole capital buzzing, I don’t know what will.”

Aleia tilted her head, lips curling into a sly smile. “Buzzing, yes. But not just with admiration. Nobles don’t like surprises they can’t predict. Especially not when those surprises come from a girl who once broke a boy’s nose at school, and her seven-year-old half-brother who looks like he’s planning three moves ahead already.”

Selene’s eyes hardened. “Aleia’s right. They’ve shown too much. Expect other families to start shifting strategies against them now. They’ll be targeted harder in the next rounds.”

Cor nodded, voice calm but serious. “They’ve painted a large mark on themselves. Ludger’s idea was brilliant—but brilliance always carries risk. Now that their opponents know they’re capable of combining techniques, no one will underestimate them again.”

Harold barked a laugh, slapping his knee. “Good! Let them come. It’ll just make the fights more entertaining.”

Selene shot him a flat look. “This isn’t entertainment. If Viola slips, or if Ludger pushes his body too far with Overdrive, it could cost them dearly.”

Arslan, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally exhaled and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His grin was still there, but it was tempered now. “They’re right. Viola’s fire makes her dangerous, but it’s Ludger’s cool head that makes them lethal together. Still…” He rubbed his chin, glancing at Lord Torvares. “If this keeps up, people will start to whisper. About Ludger. About how a child that young is already shaping battles.”

Lord Torvares didn’t look at him, his gaze still fixed on the ring. “Let them whisper. Fear and respect are blades of the same steel. If my granddaughter’s half brother mind sharpens the Torvares name, then so be it.”

The weight of his voice silenced the table for a beat.

Then Aleia chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Well… I suppose we’ll see whether the boy intends to wield that blade carefully, or if he lets the whole world cut itself on him.”

Cor pushed his glasses up, his tone low and thoughtful. “Either way, the next rounds will not be simple. Every noble in this city has now marked them. Victory will demand more than strength—it will demand restraint, discipline, and the ability to stay three steps ahead.”

Arslan leaned back with a sigh, his grin creeping wider again. “Good thing one of them actually thinks like that.”

Selene’s gaze cut to him. “And the other?”

He smirked, almost proud. “She doesn’t think. She fights. And honestly, that might be just as terrifying.”

The waiting room buzzed as Viola and Ludger stepped back inside. Heads turned immediately—some wide-eyed, others narrowed, but all fixed on the pair who had just shaken the arena.

Viola basked in it. Her dulled sword rested across her shoulder, her smirk wide, eyes glinting with pride. “Did you see their faces?” she said, her voice deliberately loud enough to carry. “One swing and his weapon snapped like kindling! And the other? Out of the ring before he even knew what happened. Easy.”

She laughed, tossing her hair back. “Torvares don't just fight—we dominate.”

Some of the children avoided her gaze, others scowled, but none said a word. They knew better now. Viola’s arrogance wasn’t baseless anymore; it was backed by the memory of broken weapons and bodies tossed like dolls.

Ludger, however, said nothing. He walked past the stares with his usual calm, settling onto the bench without a word. His expression was neutral, almost bored, but his silence spoke louder than Viola’s boasts. He wasn’t celebrating. He wasn’t baiting the room. He was conserving himself, already thinking ahead.

That contrast only made the other kids murmur more. Viola the wildfire, Ludger the still stone. Together, unpredictable—and dangerous.

Viola finally dropped onto the bench beside him, still grinning ear to ear. “What’s with the long face? We crushed them.”

Ludger glanced at her, then back at the floor. “Celebrating too hard now makes losing later look worse.” His voice was quiet, but firm.

Her smirk faltered for just a heartbeat before she scoffed, waving him off. “You worry too much.”

Ludger leaned back, arms folded. And you don’t worry at all. Which is exactly why I have to.

The waiting room stayed tense, the weight of their presence filling it like a storm cloud. For better or worse, everyone there now knew: Viola and Ludger weren’t opponents to take lightly.

The referee’s voice echoed down the stone corridor, announcing the next pair into the ring. Viola leaned back against the wall, still grinning faintly, while Ludger sat on the bench with his arms folded, eyes shut.

They wouldn’t be called again for at least an hour—maybe two. Enough time to rest, but not enough to relax.

Weapon Enhancing,

Ludger thought, replaying the last fight in his mind. I didn’t expect kids their age to be pulling that off. If even the early rounds have opponents layering techniques like that, then the next matches are only going to get harder.

He opened his eyes. The memory of the boy’s blade snapping against them was still fresh. These will protect me for a while, but relying on armor alone won’t cut it. If I just sit back and defend, eventually someone’s going to crack me open.

Viola stretched her legs out across the floor, humming like she had all the time in the world. “What’re you thinking about now? More boring strategy?”

Ludger didn’t answer immediately. His eyes narrowed slightly, gaze fixed on the waiting room floor. I need to come up with something new. A way to shift the fight before they overwhelm us. We can’t keep reacting forever. If Viola’s going to play the storm, then I’ll have to be the wall that decides where the storm hits.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low. “I’m thinking ahead. We’re not done yet. If the others keep bringing out tricks like Weapon Enhancing, you can’t just rely on Overdrive and brute force.”

Viola smirked, leaning closer. “So what’s the plan then, big brain?”

Ludger closed his eyes again, smirking faintly. “Still working on it. But one thing’s clear—next match, we’ll need more than just fire and defense. We’ll need timing. Precision. Otherwise we’re just begging to get countered.”

The murmur of the waiting room swelled as another match ended. Nobles would be watching, opponents would be studying, and the bar for survival had just been raised again.

One or two hours, Ludger thought, flexing his fingers against the gleaming guards. That’s all the time I’ve got to figure out how we’re going to beat whatever comes next.

The waiting room felt heavier with every passing minute, the muffled roar of the crowd bleeding through the stone walls. Viola was relaxed enough—her foot tapping, her grin unshaken—but Ludger’s thoughts ran colder.

Things would be easier if I just stopped holding back, he admitted to himself. Magic’s allowed here, as long as it’s tied to melee. I could layer [Mana Bolt] into strikes, reinforce my body with [Overdrive], even bait opponents into exhausting themselves with simple spells. I’ve got options. More than most of these kids, that’s for sure.

He leaned back on the bench, arms folded, eyes half-closed.

But that also means sticking my head into the fire. Drawing eyes. Drawing questions. And I’m not interested in taking the heat for this circus. Not when every noble in the realm is watching.

His gaze flicked toward Viola. She was already basking in imagined glory, no doubt picturing the podium and the golden coin that awaited the winners. Fire in her blood, pride in her eyes. Exactly the kind of person this crowd came to see.

Ludger smirked faintly, tapping the crest etched into his armguards. If she wants all the glory, she can have it. My job is to make sure she doesn’t get crushed on the way there. As far as I’m concerned, these shin and forearm guards are already paid for. That’s enough for me.

He let out a slow breath, steadying himself. So I’ll stay the shield. Let her burn bright, take the stage, and scream our name to the crowd. If it keeps me out of the nobles’ spotlight, all the better.

The referee’s voice carried faintly from beyond the waiting room. Another match ended. Another pair advanced. Their turn was coming soon.

Viola cracked her knuckles, flashing him a look. “You ready to smash the next ones?”

Ludger met her eyes, calm and even. “I’ll keep you standing. You can do the smashing.”

Her grin widened, satisfied. His smirk lingered, but his thoughts stayed quiet.

All glory to her, none to me. That’s the plan. And if anyone thinks otherwise, they’re free to keep guessing.

The announcer’s voice cut through the waiting room, crisp and loud.

“Next match—Viola Torvares and Ludger, to the ring!”

The murmur in the room swelled as heads turned their way again. Viola rose quickly, her dulled sword already in hand, her grin flashing like always—until she caught sight of their opponents waiting at the far gate.

Her expression shifted. The grin faded, her eyes narrowing, jaw tightening.

Ludger blinked, taken aback by the sudden change. Viola never looked serious before a fight, not like this. He followed her line of sight, studying the two boys across the ring.

One was tall and lean, with neatly cut hair and the smug confidence of someone raised on praise. The other…

Ludger’s gaze fixed on him.

His nose was crooked, slightly misshapen, the bridge healed but never quite straight. It stood out immediately.

“…Ah,” Ludger thought, realization dawning like a slow drumbeat. So that’s him. The kid whose nose Viola broke.

The same incident that had kept her out of noble school. The same one that still whispered through the halls of politics like a bad rumor.

No wonder she looked like she’d swallowed fire.

The crowd roared as the four children stepped into the ring, but Ludger’s eyes stayed on Viola. Her stance was sharper, her silence heavier. This wasn’t just another match for her.

And suddenly, Ludger understood what kind of fight this was about to become.

The referee lifted his hand, signaling for silence. The crowd hushed, waiting for the match to begin.

Before the signal dropped, Viola stepped forward, her voice sharp and carrying across the arena. “I’ll take him. Fair and square.” She pointed her dulled sword straight at the boy with the crooked nose, eyes blazing. “Ludger, keep the other one busy.”

Ludger froze mid-step. His mind ground to a halt. …All that time thinking up strategies, timing, coordination—and she just tosses it out the window in one sentence?

He dragged a hand down his face, his exhale sharp enough to sting. Why do I even bother?

The referee’s hand dropped. “Begin!”

Both pairs moved. Viola dashed straight for the boy she’d marked, blade sparking with mana, no hesitation in her charge.

Ludger cut sideways, intercepting the second opponent before he could flank her. The boy was taller, broad in the shoulders, his dulled blade steady and unshaking in his grip. His steps weren’t clumsy or green; he moved with a quiet, measured rhythm.

Ludger’s eyes narrowed. This one’s not just a bodyguard for show. He’s trained—more than the average noble brat. He’s got the aura of someone who’s actually fought before.

Steel rang as their weapons met—sword against forearm guard. The impact rattled Ludger’s bones, stronger than he expected. He braced, teeth gritted, pushing back to hold ground.

Across the ring, Viola and her opponent clashed with a crack of mana and force that shook the air, their duel drawing the crowd’s full attention.

Ludger grimaced as his opponent pressed harder. Great. Viola gets her dramatic showdown, and I get stuck wrestling with the brick wall. Perfect teamwork, really.

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