With the arrival of the weekend at Babel, the mood at the academy was anything but ordinary.

Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com.

Normally, most students no longer had the energy to get excited after over a month into the second semester, but today felt markedly different.

“Wow, we might actually witness a sibling rivalry this time.”

“No way, that’s a stretch. Don’t forget Yeom Sung-Ha is on that side.”

“You never know. People say Jake’s been going wild lately.”

Walking on the path to their destination, students were engrossed in their phones, chatting animatedly. Though some were grumbling in frustration.

“Ugh... all the ones I bet on got knocked out.”

“Well, that’s because you bet everything on Aria dropping out, you idiot.”

“If they’d just won one match, I’d have made bank!”

It wasn’t just them. All around campus, people were buzzing about the event scheduled for later in the day.

“Everyone’s hyped up.”

Watching the lively scene from a park bench, Se-Hoon couldn’t help but smirk.

It seemed like nine out of ten passersby were talking about the tournament, their excitement about the upcoming event practically radiating from them. Anyone could easily see that the entirety of Babel was engrossed in the tournament.

And while Se-Hoon had been expecting such enthusiasm, it was only from those within Babel—not the rest of the world as well.

I didn’t think they’d broadcast this out of Babel...

Initially, the tournament was supposed to remain an internal affair of Babel. However, once news of the elimination of Apostate spread, things took an unexpected turn.

With the leaders of various factions deliberating over how to commemorate the victories over the Ten Evils, Babel’s tournament naturally caught their attention.

Now that I think about it, there couldn’t have been a better event for this.

Coincidentally, the three individuals responsible for defeating Apostate were all from Babel. And since Se-Hoon, who had been in a coma, had recovered, there was no longer anything to hesitate over.

Like a flood, associations, guilds, and corporations began pouring in sponsorship offers. Even Wurgen, who was always drawn to the scent of money, lent his hand.

As a result, what was once a simple tournament had ballooned into a grand, globally broadcasted event.

Well, I guess it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

If Babel’s influence grew because of it, it would indirectly benefit Se-Hoon, who had Ludwig as his support. Moreover, the announcement of the new iron forging method after the finals would simultaneously reach a global audience, making it a win-win situation.

I’m curious about who’ll win.

Se-Hoon took out his phone and reviewed the finalized tournament brackets from the day before.

Group A Luize Valente vs. Jane Rose Inoue Ren vs. Aria Myers Amir Singh vs. Yang Hong

Group B Yeom Sung-Ha vs. Manuel Ortega Inoue Erika vs. Jake Myers

Hmm... things are going to get quite wild right from the start.

The pairings were supposedly random, yet apart from Amir, everyone seemed to be matched against familiar faces. It was almost as if Ludwig had rigged the brackets.

Well, at least this makes it fun to watch.

The other finalists were excelling students as well, but the nine highlighted names had reached a different level entirely. Even Aria, a recognized S-rank hero in active duty, had grown significantly stronger over the past six months.

Still, the one to make it to the finals will probably be...

As Se-Hoon pondered over it, someone extended a can of energy drink to him.

“Would you like one?”

Appearing silently, a blonde man—Karl—stood before Se-Hoon.

“Thanks,” Se-Hoon said with a nod, calm despite the sudden appearance.

“My pleasure.”

Karl sat beside him, sipping his own can of the same energy drink.

The two then shared a companionable silence, with only the park’s ambient noise filling the air.

“How was his end?”

Breaking the silence, Karl’s voice carried a mix of emotions.

It made Se-Hoon hesitate for a moment before answering. “He was the same throughout, even when he met his end.”

Apostate neither repented nor found enlightenment, dying in his own deluded world. That was all there was to his demise.

“I see...”

Karl sipped his drink again, gazing at the park with eyes tinged with regret. Memories of Apostate seemed to flicker in his mind—a seemingly natural reaction, considering their past master-disciple relationship.

Yet, Se-Hoon could sense there was something different about Karl’s gaze.

What is he mourning for, exactly?

Was it the failure of his wayward disciple to repent, or was he grieving the lost humanity of the person his disciple once was? The strangeness of Karl’s demeanor made Se-Hoon dwell on the thought, though he brushed it off briefly after.

I guess there’s no need to believe everything he said.

He realized that Apostate’s words ultimately came from his own perspective. The truth, if it existed, had to be confirmed through his own eyes and judgment.

Deciding to take his time evaluating the matter, Se-Hoon turned to Karl.

“How are things on the Pilgrim’s Path these days?”

“They’ve calmed down compared to before. Fewer attacks mean I have time to come out like this.”

“Seems like Apostate’s death shook them up.”

“Probably. Then again... part of me wonders if they’re just taking the opportunity to consolidate their forces.”

At a glance, their situation had become more favorable, but Karl, knowing how cunning the Ten Evils could be, remained cautious. If they were to launch an all-out war, the resulting devastation would be catastrophic.

“You know what? The chairman and I actually talked about that recently,” Se-Hoon began, noticing Karl’s concern.

“Ludwig did?”

Karl turned to look at Se-Hoon with surprise. He was well aware of how Ludwig rarely involved himself in external matters.

“What we’ve planned is...”

Se-Hoon shared the details of his recent conversation with Ludwig, and Karl, upon hearing the full thing, couldn’t hide his admiration.

“With Li Kenxie defending Babel and Ludwig roaming freely, it would indeed be a tremendous help to our forces.”

“Exactly. But that’s just a defensive strategy. To act decisively, we’ll need to reform the Pilgrim’s Path.”

“Reform, how?”

“I’ve recently completed the blueprint for the Divine Mana Conversion Device.”

At the unexpected revelation, Karl’s eyes widened in shock.

“Really?” His voice betrayed his excitement.

“Yes. There are still a few adjustments that need to be made here and there, but a prototype should be ready soon.”

It had been a challenge to come up with a working blueprint, but after experiencing both Karl and Apostate’s sanctuaries, Se-Hoon had a clearer framework to work with. For now, the device’s final functionality wasn’t guaranteed yet, but even achieving half of what he envisioned would drastically reinforce humanity’s forces.

“...”

Processing Se-Hoon’s confidence, Karl suddenly drained the remainder of his energy drink in one go, and then, with determination in his eyes, turned to Se-Hoon.

“If you ever need my help, just say the word. I’ll do everything I can.”

“Thank you. Just give me a bit more time.”

With their conversation now over, Karl gathered the empty cans and was about to leave when he suddenly recalled something.

“By the way, isn’t your friend up against Archbishop Jane?”

“Ah, yes. That’s right.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

Karl made a wry smile.

“A few days ago, Jane submitted a report. She intends to use her Stigmata during the tournament.”

Her Stigmata was a Holy Artifact handcrafted by the Pilgrim specifically for the Archbishops, and as a piece of equipment created by a Perfect One, it was almost always classified as Legendary tier. Furthermore, Jane’s, in particular, was uniquely suited for combat.

Because of that, Karl thought the match would probably be overly one-sided, so he cautiously said, “If you think that this is unfair in any way, I can still—”

“It’s fine.”

Se-Hoon cut him off without the slightest hesitation, startling Karl with his unwavering confidence. But very quickly, Karl regarded Se-Hoon with curiosity.

And in response, Se-Hoon flashed a sly smile.

“She’ll need something of that caliber for it to even be a real match.”

It wasn’t simply because they were acquaintances. He was siding with her because he had faith in her, who had absorbed every bit of her prior training.

So, for Jane to win, such an extraordinary advantage was only fitting.

Karl stared blankly at Se-Hoon for a moment before a smile grew on his face.

“Then I’ll let Jane know to do her best.”

With that, Karl dissolved into a golden light and disappeared.

Now alone, Se-Hoon stroked his chin thoughtfully.

I don’t think she’ll lose... but maybe I should send some encouragement just in case.

For the tournament, Se-Hoon’s role was as both the host and sponsor. He wouldn’t be joining himself, but the success of his protégés and close acquaintances—many using equipment he had provided—would enhance his own influence significantly.

Encouragement, huh...?

As he pondered over what kind of message would inspire them to fight harder, a lightbulb suddenly lit up in his head.

This should do it...

It was slightly materialistic, but clear incentives often worked better than vague motivations. He quickly composed a message on his phone and sent it out.

Se-Hoon: Whoever gets the best score in this tournament will receive custom-made equipment from me.

Across campus, Erika, Jake, Luize, Amir, and Sung-Ha all received a notification on their phones.

***

The grand Hall of Martial Arts at Aqar Quf, where countless ranked matches and official duels were held, was packed to the brim with spectators. Students and visitors alike filled the space, forcing the building to undergo structural modifications to expand seating.

Yet, even with the expansion, tens of thousands of people were still crammed inside.

“Wow... it’s way too crowded here...” muttered a round-faced woman with her hair in twin buns in disbelief. The sight overwhelmed her.

“Isn’t this a bit much, even for such a tournament?”

Lan Fang, a professor of the Department of Martial Arts, had been the commentator for similar events before, but the atmosphere today felt heavier, likely due to the multiple occasions being commemorated.

And with so many high-ranking officials here...

Lan Fang scanned the VIP section, where notable figures from various factions had gathered. Perhaps they felt secure here, protected from the potential threats of the Ten Evils.

Nervous, Lan Fang was scratching her cheek nervously and sighing when a dry voice called out from behind her.

“Fang. It’s starting soon. Get ready.”

At the voice, Lan Fang turned around and found a man whose face screamed exhaustion, as if weighed down by work—Lan Fei, her older brother and a professor in the Department of Martial Magic.

“Did you pull another all-nighter?”

“Heroes don’t need much sleep.”

“That only applies to people like me, who actually practice martial arts.”

Despite being neither robust nor resilient, her brother had been surviving on just an hour of sleep per day for months.

“I’m fine, really. Not collapsing anytime soon.”

“...Seriously.”

Hearing the same answer as always, Lan Fang sighed again. Arguing with him further was pointless, so she waved him off.

“Fine. I’ll get ready. Leave me alone, will you?”

“Got it.”

Heeding her words, Lan Fei turned to leave, but paused at the doorway.

“By the way, about what we discussed earlier... make sure to take care of it.”

And without another word, he exited the booth. Now left alone, Lan Fang propped her chin on her hand, staring at the arena and audience below.

What we discussed earlier...

Lan Fei’s request had been straightforward: observe the matches involving Se-Hoon’s associates and provide her impressions. On the surface, it sounded like simple evaluations of promising students. But Lan Fang already had a good idea of how her brother planned to use that information.

It might be time for him to stop walking the tightrope.

Although he was doing his best to hide his involvement, would Ludwig truly be unaware of Lan Fei’s connections?

Pondering over it, Lan Fang smirked wryly.

No. The Chairman probably knows already and just doesn’t care.

As long as her brother remained a competent professor, Ludwig likely saw no need to address minor transgressions.

At that moment, a hologram signaling the event’s commencement appeared, cutting Lan Fang’s musings short.

“Okay, let’s get to work.”

Stretching lightly, she prepared for her commentary.

And moments later, the arena was illuminated by a giant holographic display, showing Lan Fang’s energetic face to the thousands of spectators and global audience.

“Hello, everyone! I’m Lan Fang, the youngest professor of the Department of Martial Arts, and I’ll be your host and commentator for this tournament!”

And with that lively introduction, the tournament officially started.

Leading the opening ceremony, Ludwig appeared and gave a brief speech, after which the matchups were revealed on the holographic display for all to see.

“There are a whopping 256 students in the finals, but by the end of today, only 64 will remain!”

Lan Fang glanced at the audience, then continued in a measured tone. “Worried it’ll take too long? Don’t be. Whether in combat or a duel, decisive moments often happen in the blink of an eye. Don’t even think about looking away, as you might miss something critical!”

Following the basics, Lan Fang then explained the tournament rules. As expected, the match would end if the protective barrier around the contestant broke, or if a contestant was forced out of bounds.

However, there was one key difference.

“Oh, and one more thing. The Chairman himself is overseeing this tournament personally! Even if it’s a devastating blow that breaks the barrier, you don’t need to hold back at all!”

The crowd buzzed with excitement. Fights between powerful heroes often caused collateral damage, even with protective measures. However, with Ludwig in charge, even the shockwaves from S-rank heroes fighting at full strength would be effortlessly neutralized.

“With that out of the way, let’s get started! First up!”

Spotlights immediately converged on the arena’s left side, where a woman with wavy brown hair and the robes of the Pilgrimage Church stood.

“The third-year rank two of the Department of Regenerative Medicines of Ur, and the youngest Archbishop of the Pilgrimage Church! Ranked sixth in the Hall of Martial Arts, it’s Jaaaaaane Rose!”

The crowd erupted into cheers as Jane gave a graceful nod.

Then, once the applause died down, Lan Fang moved on.

“And her opponent! The top-ranking sophomore of the Department of Martial Magic! A genius pioneer carving out unexplored realms of magic—Luizeeeeee Valente!”

The spotlights all shifted to the right, illuminating a silver-haired woman with piercing blue eyes. But unlike with Jane’s reveal, the applause for Luize was noticeably quieter. Luize’s relative lack of fame aside, it was her commanding presence that unnerved the audience.

“Her expression though...”

“It feels like she’s staring right at me...”

Even though Luize’s gaze was fixed on Jane, the oppressive tension she exuded seemed to envelop everyone in the arena. Despite most expecting Jane to win, the palpable energy settling over the arena hinted at a far more even match than anticipated.

Watching the crowd speculate on the outcome, Lan Fang smiled after a pregnant pause, sensing the moment was finally ripe.

“Alright! With the introductions done, let the match...”

Her voice trailed off as both contestants simultaneously readied their weapons.

On one side, a gleaming white arrow formulated next to Jane, pulsing with golden light. On the other, Luize’s choker unfurled, transforming into an X-shaped metallic mask.

“BEGIN!”

Luize unleashed her incantation.

“Seizure.”

A powerful shockwave rippled across the arena, forcing Jane to react.

Meanwhile, Luize, with her body enhanced with mana, lunged forward, aiming for close-quarters combat.

Seeing that, Jane calmly directed her golden arrow, only to find it suddenly turning on her.

“What?!”

Her weapon’s control had been hijacked—realizing the danger, Jane dove to the side, narrowly avoiding disaster. But as soon as she recovered, Luize had teleported directly in front of her with a clenched fist ready, closing the distance in an instant.

“Victory goes to the swift!”

Bam!

The impact reverberated throughout the stadium as Jane realized—too late—that she’d been completely outmaneuvered.