The clash between the empire's young hero and the southern kingdoms' representative knight had drawn the eyes of the continent.
Seated in the best spot, guarded by the Imperial Guards, Revelio narrowed his eyes and called out, "Sir Mason."
"Yes, Your Majesty?" Sir Mason answered.
"That Caron... Just how strong has he become?" Revelio asked.
A cloud of pale dust hung in the air above the arena.
To be honest, it was hard to even tell what had happened. As soon as the match began, there had been the sound of weapons clashing—and then an explosion. If the mages from the Magic Tower hadn't activated the defensive magic circle in time, there could have been casualties.
It was difficult to believe that sheer destructive force had come from a mere knight, not a mage. It was a power far beyond what anyone could call swordsmanship.
"Hmm," Mason murmured thoughtfully at Revelio's question, rubbing his chin before giving a casual shrug. "One thing's certain—Sir Caron is second."
"Second?" Revelio asked.
"Yes, second in the empire. I don't even think I can defeat him anymore," Sir Mason admitted. He let out a quiet sound of admiration.
But to be honest, it wasn't all that surprising. Caron had reached 8-Star at the age of seventeen. Now, after just three years, he stood at the threshold of the highest tier of that rank. It wasn't a strange development—it was expected, even.
Caron Leston was a monster that defied all reason. Born to wield the sword, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he was a creature made for battle. From the start, he was never bound by common sense.
"Even so, Sir Zech is quite a famous knight in the southern kingdoms," Mason added. "An undefeated champion of jousts, duels, every type of battle."
"Didn't seem very undefeated to me," Revelio remarked with a dry chuckle.
"Well, that's partly because of the level of the knights he's faced until now... But still, he's not someone you can just dismiss," Sir Mason explained.
By now, the dust that had blanketed the arena had cleared. The field lay in ruins.
A white-haired knight was sprawled out in utter defeat, while Caron stood before him yawning, looking down at the fallen veteran as though the whole thing had been a bore.
A heavy silence fell over the crowd. They had just witnessed the overwhelming defeat of an 8-Star knight.
Rumors of Caron Leston's strength had spread, but this was the first time many had seen it with their own eyes. Shock rippled through the crowd, especially among the kings of the southern kingdoms who had been invited as honored guests.
...Sir Zech must have been the greatest knight of the southern kingdoms...
Was the difference in power truly this vast?
If that monster had Halo Leston at his side too...
This is... terrifying.
While everyone else stood stunned into silence, the one who had caused this massacre waved a hand in the air nonchalantly. Then, turning on his heel, he gave a polite bow in Revelio's direction.
Revelio couldn't help but smirk at the sight of Caron paying respects. He rose to his feet and was the first to applaud.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
As the emperor began to clap...
"Wooooaaahhh!"
"Yeeeeaaaahh!"
"Caron! Caron! Caron!"
At last, the spectators exploded into thunderous applause, chanting Caron's name in unison.
Caron soaked in the cheers with a satisfied smile, then pulled a massive coffin from his pocket. It was made from absurdly fine wood, far too extravagant for what it was.
Caron kicked it forward so that it slid to a stop in front of the unconscious Zech and shouted, "This one's on me! I'm paying for the coffin!"
Watching from the sidelines, Leo—anxiously awaiting his turn—stared with his mouth wide open, then said, "...That lunatic."
"So this is why he asked me to bless a coffin?" Seria muttered bitterly. "Just for some stupid performance? That deranged bastard of a hero. See if I ever help him again."
"Wait, Saintess, you actually blessed that thing?" Leo asked.
"Well, it is a coffin. It's meant for the dead, so of course I blessed it—ugh, I'm gonna explode from the frustration. Hey! Give me some beer, please. Now," Seria said.
"Y-Yes, right away!" the worker answered.
Seria drowned her frustration in gulps of beer.
Meanwhile, Caron, oblivious to the reactions around him, even went so far as to lift Zech's limp body and place him inside the coffin himself.
Caron never hesitated in disregarding the honor of knights.
But then again, there was a saying that fame made people cheer even when one was doing something ridiculous.
"Woooooo!"
The audience went wild for his shameless showmanship.
Caron gave a gracious wave, beaming at the crowd, then looked down at Zech and said, "If you'd just apologized first, I wouldn't have gone this far, old man. With age comes humility—ever heard of that?"
"...Nnnnghh..."
"Don't bother pretending to be unconscious. I know you're still awake. Have some shame, will you? What kind of knight pretends to faint? Even the Oceanwolf Knight Order's rookies wouldn't pull something that pathetic," Caron said.
He could have humiliated Zech further by shouting that he was faking, but he decided not to.
"Just stay like that until I leave," Caron said.
Letting him stew in the disgrace would be a greater insult than any insult Caron could voice aloud.
As Caron smirked and turned away, Zech's body twitched ever so slightly from within the coffin.
Caron sheathed Guillotine, then gave a wide, toothy grin and turned toward Halo, who was watching him from beside Revelio.
Looks good, doesn't it? Caron thought.
After this tournament, he would be recognized as the undisputed second strongest on the continent. But he didn't just want to be number two. He wanted to be the number two with a bad personality. The kind who made one pay dearly if one didn't do as he asked.
Caron wanted the leaders of other nations to tremble at the thought of defying him. Zech was just a sacrifice for that goal.
"Winner of Round One! Caron Leston of the Ducal Family of Leston! A display of sheer, overwhelming power! Ladies and gentlemen, you are living in the era of Caron Leston!"
The announcer's voice boomed across the arena as Caron exited the battlefield.
Caron took his time, savoring the moment. This was going to be a truly fun tournament.
***
The shock Caron had delivered seemed to have simply been too intense, as the Round of Thirty-Two that followed didn't attract nearly as much attention as his match.
Still, none of the games were one-sided. Warriors from various nations and races took to the arena with their honor on the line, and each bout turned into a fierce struggle.
The matches continued all day, and by nightfall, the Round of Sixteen was set.
But that bracket stirred quite the controversy. That was because a civil war had broken out—within the Ducal Family of Leston.
Every participant from the Ducal Family of Leston had made it to the Round of Sixteen, and as fate would have it, two of them were now facing each other.
"Who do you think will win?" one asked.
"Are you seriously asking?" another answered.
"What a poor guy..." someone remarked.
"Tsk tsk, betting on this match would be pointless. Honestly, isn't the orc-versus-human bout far more exciting?" a spectator asked.
The gamblers and spectators buzzed with anticipation, the heat of speculation fueling the atmosphere.
The Round of Sixteen took place the following day.
Clouds loomed overhead, casting a gloomy tone, but the arena was brightly lit with magical and dwarven-engineered lights. Thanks to their quick repairs, the battlefield stood ready once more.
Two young men stepped onto the stage. One of them wore a relaxed smile, while the other looked like a man walking to his execution.
"And now, the fourth match of the Round of Sixteen! A battle between members of the Golden Generation! Two warriors fighting for the honor of their house—Caron Leston and Leo Leston!"
"...Haaah," Leo let out a deep sigh and shook his head. "Why me, of all people..."
He had only barely won his previous match after nearly thirty minutes of intense combat. And now, of all opponents, he had to face Caron.
The one person he'd wanted to avoid the most in the tournament was Caron Leston. That monstrous bastard stood there twirling his sheathed sword, a smug grin on his face.
"Hey, Leo," Caron said, spinning his blade with a carefree tone. "Did you realize? It's just the two of us now. We're the only Lestons left in this tournament."
Hugo Leston had already been eliminated in the second match—by an unknown knight from the Free City Union.
When Caron whispered slyly, Leo raised his middle finger and growled, "Then there'll be only one soon enough."
"Oh? Are you planning to take me out and be the last Leston standing? That's so like you, Leo," Caron asked with a smile.
"I-I never said that," Leo replied.
"I'll give it my all. Honestly, if rumors spread that I went easy on you, that'd be pretty humiliating, don't you think?" Caron remarked.
Whoosh.
In a sudden surge, Caron's mana burst outward. A sea formed in the arena and waves began to roll.
Caron's mana surged like a tide on the verge of eruption, and in an instant, it swallowed Leo whole.
Anyone else would have panicked in the face of such overwhelming pressure, but Leo knew Caron's fighting style better than anyone: It was a sea that dominated space and crushed the opponent with sheer force.
If I lose control, it's over, Leo thought.
He had spent the past three years facing Caron countless times. He believed he understood Caron more than anyone else.
Crackle.
Leo didn't flinch, and he immediately summoned his own sea. Unlike Caron's, his sea was quiet and still. Over that calm surface spread the biting chill of Rigor's frost.
That very frost had carried him through the qualifiers and into the Round of Sixteen. It wasn't originally a power of the Ducal Family of Leston, but over the past three years, Leo had trained diligently to harness Rigor's power.
He channeled the Azure Mana he had gathered through the Ocean Dominance Arts and converted it into frost through Rigor, then wove it into his swordplay. It was a fighting style he had developed together with Caron.
As the frost encased the surroundings, Caron's mana lost some of its edge. The waves that had been relentlessly rising now met resistance in the form of ice.
"You know," Caron said with a smirk, eyeing the wall of ice, "I was having a drink at the plaza tavern yesterday, and the citizens gave you a new nickname."
Caron grinned and continued, "Leo Leston, the Frozen Wolf. Damn. Someone like me gets called a Mad Dog, and you get something cool like that?"
Leo's face turned red and he stuttered, "S-Shut up."
"Oh, the Frozen Wolf told me to shut up. Of course I'll shut my mouth. But Leo—you gotta give it your all, your girlfriend's watching," Caron said with a smirk.
Leo had undoubtedly been one of the biggest winners of the tournament so far. Though Caron's overwhelming presence had dimmed his spotlight, his performance had clearly proven he was a true member of the Golden Generation of the Ducal Family of Leston.
As Leo watched Caron assume his stance, he swallowed hard. He thought, I'll at least keep my pride.
Leo already knew that there was a wall between them that words could hardly describe. So he came up with a plan.
Go all out in the opening. Push him hard. Then surrender before he can strike back, Leo thought. To him, it was the only way out of this.
But for the plan to work, there was one condition: He had to shake Caron's composure. If Caron stayed calm, no attack would ever land.
Just as Leo understood Caron, Caron understood Leo inside and out. A frontal assault would guarantee defeat.
So Leo tried a different approach. He said, "Been a while since I smacked you around, little brat."
"Oh? A provocation?" Caron asked.
"You're not gonna try to crush me with that dirty 8-Star mana of yours, are you? Because all I see is someone who relies on their mana. Your swordsmanship's garbage, honestly. A mess. Like some stew made from whatever's lying around," Leo provoked Caron.
"Oh, listen to you running your mouth," Caron said.
"What? Nervous? Let your big bro show you what real Leston swordsmanship looks like," Leo said with a smirk.
His goal was to break Caron's composure before the battle even began. But contrary to expectations, Caron didn't lose his cool at all.
Right there in front of thousands of spectators, Caron just stuck a finger in his ear and replied, "Why would I?"
"...What?" Leo asked.
"I mean, yeah, I am planning to beat you down using just swordsmanship. But why the hell would I hold back? Save my mana for stew or something?" Caron asked.
"That's not what I meant—we should at least fight fair..." Leo trailed off.
"Exactly. We should both go all out, fair and square, right? If I hold back, what will people say? 'Oh, the Lestons go easy on their family. Typical elite bloodline nonsense.' That's what they'll think. So I've gotta beat you down properly right here to shut them up," Caron explained.
Sching.
Caron drew Guillotine from its sheath and grinned. Then he looked straight at Leo's pale face and asked, "You were planning to touch blades and surrender, weren't you?"
"N-No," Leo stuttered.
"Let me just say this. If you surrender today, I'll beat the crap out of you every morning for the next three months," Caron stated, then a merciless smile curved at his lips.
"Leo," he called out.
"Y-Yeah?" Leo answered.
"Let's just get this over with," Caron said.
Thus began the match that would later be remembered as the most brutal bout in the tournament.
It was the Leston Civil War.