Chapter 539: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: One Day Break

"Oh, my scholars, did you just see what she did?!"

A Young Nobleman standing among the spectators pointed toward the Fight Platform with a shocked expression on his face.

He was still staring at Diane Bergwyn, who stood on the platform as if the fight that had just ended had barely been worth the effort.

"Lady Priscilla threw everything she had, but My Ice Queen broke through everything without wasting any time."

A young lady from another section of the spectators spoke excitedly, her hands interlocked in front of her chest while her eyes remained fixed on Diane with open admiration.

"I told you Lady Diane Bergwyn was going to win."

Another young lady, this time among the First-Year students of the Royal Academy, spoke with the same confidence.

The expression on her face was almost identical to those worn by many of Diane Bergwyn’s fans.

For the people who had followed the Combat Festival from the beginning, the result wasn’t exactly surprising.

There had already been several fights during the Eighth Round that ended quickly.

Lyra Ashburn’s match against Gin Drakes had ended in a short period of time.

Maxwell’s battle against Cyrus Burnwick had also lasted only a few minutes before Cyrus surrendered.

But Diane’s match had gone beyond simply being fast.

It had almost looked like the fight had ended before Priscilla had been given enough time to truly begin.

Even though she actually used everything she had.

The moment the word announcing the start of the match had been shouted by the hundreds of thousands of spectators filling the Arena, Priscilla immediately acted.

She already knew how large the disadvantage between them was.

Diane was one Alchemist rank above her.

That alone would have made the fight difficult.

But when it came to actual combat ability, the difference between them was even greater.

Diane didn’t simply possess a higher Alchemist rank.

She had the combat skill to make use of it.

A natural battle instinct, that was second to none.

There was almost nothing Priscilla could rely on that would give her a clear advantage against her.

So, she had chosen the only option available to her.

Use everything.

Don’t hold anything back.

Don’t give Diane the chance to settle into the fight.

Priscilla had begun by using the Circuit System integrated into her Dual Barrel Shotgun.

She took out the firearm almost immediately the match officially began, and she had fired with the kind of speed expected from an experienced Gun Alchemist in the Binder Alchemist rank.

Before Diane could close the distance, Priscilla smoothly switched weapons.

Her hands moved through the process without hesitation, putting away the Dual Barrel Shotgun and drawing the Circuit System integrated RPG-2 from her space bag.

She had already prepared a good number of RPG ammunition inside her Space Bag, allowing her to continue firing without wasting precious time on preparation.

The first projectile flew.

Then another.

Explosions spread across the platform.

Snow and pieces of broken stone were thrown into the air, while the force of the blasts caused the damaged surface beneath them to shake.

But Diane moved through it all.

She evaded the projectiles.

She sliced through attacks that came too close.

And she did all of it while using nothing more than her slim sword.

The sword moved in her hand with such control that each slash seemed to have already been decided before Priscilla’s attack reached her.

Priscilla refused to stop.

She had also brought another trick with her.

The same stick-grenades attached to thin steel ropes that she had used against Felix.

She threw them while continuing to move backwards, using the ropes to control their position and create additional explosions around Diane.

The plan was simple.

Create enough destruction to slow Diane down.

Force her to spend time dealing with each attack.

Then use that small opening to create another opportunity.

But Diane didn’t give her one.

She jumped.

Her body rose through the smoke just as the stick-grenades ignited.

At almost the same time, another RPG-2 projectile flew toward her.

Diane rotated her body in the air.

Her slim sword moved with her.

The blade cut through the explosion in front of her, splitting the force and opening a path through the smoke as she continued spinning.

The spectators could see the faint blue trail left by the movement of her sword.

The explosion swallowed the space behind her.

Diane came through it.

Then her feet touched the ground, but she didn’t stop.

The moment she landed, she pushed off again.

Her body moved forward with a speed that made Priscilla’s eyes widen.

Diane reached Priscilla’s front before the Gun Alchemist could create another attack.

The slim sword was already in Diane’s hand.

But she didn’t use the blade.

Instead, she turned the weapon slightly and struck Priscilla on the head with the flat side.

BAM!

The sound echoed across the platform.

Priscilla’s head snapped downward.

Her vision shook.

For a moment, the entire Arena seemed to spin around her.

Her brain rang from the impact, and before she could properly recover, Diane’s other hand moved.

A solid punch struck Priscilla directly in the stomach.

THUD!

The air was forced from Priscilla’s lungs.

Her body bent from the impact, and her eyes widened as she struggled to breathe.

The battle ended.

That was what the four Holographic Screens displayed while the medical staff carried Priscilla away from the Fight Platform on a stretcher.

Diane, meanwhile, simply waved tiredly as she left the fighting area.

Her expression remained sleepy.

It was almost as though she had just finished an ordinary training session.

Once the two fighters had left the platform, the Craft-Based Royal Academy staff entered the damaged area.

There wasn’t much to repair compared to some of the previous battles.

Most of the damage had come from Priscilla’s firearms and stick-grenades, leaving several marks and broken sections across the surface.

The staff quickly began restoring them.

As the workers moved around the platform, the spectators continued discussing the fight.

Some praised Priscilla for using everything she had.

Others talked about Diane’s overwhelming advantage.

And Diane’s supporters were, of course, celebrating.

For them, the result had been exactly what they expected.

A few minutes passed.

Then Patrick West and Professor Natasha stepped onto the repaired Fight Platform.

The crowd slowly settled down.

Patrick looked around the enormous Arena.

The cheers hadn’t completely disappeared, but they were quieter now as everyone realized the day’s matches had come to an end.

Patrick raised his microphone.

"Wow, today has really been amazing, my fellow Britannians."

His expression became slightly dramatic as he looked across the Arena.

He genuinely looked impressed.

"Yeahhhhhh!!!!"

"It was really incredible!!"

"Lady Vera Ashenlocke all the way!!"

"Lady Diane Bergwyn is winning this!!"

"Sir Ravenor Burnwick all the way!!"

The crowd responded with bright cheers.

Many spectators wore satisfied expressions as they talked among themselves, clearly pleased with what they had witnessed.

The Eighth Round had given them plenty to discuss.

There had been powerful Alchemy.

Unexpected dominating victory.

An awkward victory.

Strange techniques.

Young Alchemists pushing themselves beyond their limits.

And, perhaps most importantly, several battles that had changed how the audience viewed the remaining First-Year students.

Patrick looked toward Professor Natasha, who stood beside him.

"Honestly, I’m beginning to think these First Years are the best I have seen in the Royal Academy, if I must say so, Professor Natasha."

He smiled calmly.

Professor Natasha nodded once.

"I can’t argue with you on that, because I also believe so."

Her expression carried genuine satisfaction.

She looked toward the sections where the First-Year students were gathered.

"Not that all the former First Years who have now gone on to the next years are below standard."

Her voice became warmer.

"But these children in this First Year this time around are filled with many monsters, hard workers, and people with deep dreams and determination to push themselves to their limits to achieve their goals."

She paused.

Her eyes moved across the Arena.

There were students who had won.

There were also students who had lost.

Some had already been removed from the Combat Festival during the first round, second round, third round, up to the seventh round.

Natasha smiled.

"I’m so proud of all of them."

The crowd became quieter.

"Even for those who lost, I’m proud of you all for showing us what it means to chase a dream, even though the road toward that dream is narrow."

Her words spread through the Arena.

For a moment, there was no loud cheering.

Then applause began.

It started from several sections before spreading throughout the Arena.

Nobles clapped.

Non-Nobles clapped.

Some parents smiled warmly while looking toward their children.

A few First-Year students who had lost much earlier in the festival lowered their heads with small smiles, clearly touched by the Professor’s words.

The applause continued for several seconds before Patrick raised his microphone again.

"Tomorrow will be a break time for all the remaining First Years who are still in this Combat Festival to relax, restock, re-strategize on their combat approach, and prepare their minds for the biggest round..."

Patrick paused.

A small smirk appeared on his face.

"The Ninth Round of the Grand First-Year Festival!!!"

"WOOOOAAAHHH!!"

"LET’S GO!!!"

"We have come a long way!!!"

"I’m so excited!!!"

The Arena erupted again.

The announcement carried more weight than the previous ones.

The Ninth Round was the quarterfinals.

Only a small number of First-Year students remained.

Every victory from this point forward would bring them closer to the final stages of the Combat Festival.

Every defeat would end their journey.

The spectators knew it.

The students knew it.

And that was exactly why the excitement had become so intense.

Patrick looked toward the crowd with a playful expression.

"The matchups will be shown on the day of the Ninth Round to create more suspense, my wonderful Britannians."

He winked.

The response was immediate.

"Come on, why not show us now?!"

"That’s too much suspense!"

"Yeah! I want to know if Lady Vera Ashenlocke would be facing Lady Diane Bergwyn!"

"What about Sir Ravenor Burnwick versus Maxwell?!"

"The suspense is already killing me!"

Voices came from different sections of the Arena.

Some people laughed.

Others shouted their guesses.

Some spectators were already trying to predict the matchups based on the remaining participants.

Patrick laughed lightly while watching their reactions.

Even Professor Natasha couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

The audience had spent an entire day watching these young Alchemists fight, and now they wanted the next part immediately.

Patrick had expected that reaction.

He simply enjoyed making them wait.

At the seating section reserved for the High Powers of the Kingdom, the reaction wasn’t much different.

"I also want to know who would be facing whooo."

The Queen of Britannia suddenly spoke with a whining tone.

The veil covering her face hid her expression from the people around her, so the Heads of the Royal Alchemist Branches and the Vice Headmaster of the Royal Academy seated nearby could not see just how dissatisfied she looked.

Godwin Fraser turned toward her.

"I can always send you a sneak peek of the Ninth Round matchups if you are really excited to see them. My Queen."

He laughed warmly.

"Hmm..."

The Queen folded her arms.

She crossed her legs and seemed to consider his offer, then she turned slightly toward him.

"Would the Vice Headmaster also allow me to see the matchups?"

Duke Aldous Burnwick calmly pointed toward himself.

His expression remained controlled, but his question was direct.

Godwin looked at him.

"Are you curious if your son would be facing that Maxwell child?"

Alister Morgan asked while looking toward the Duke of Burnwick.

Duke Aldous didn’t deny it.

"My curiosity is strong on that."

He replied simply.

There wasn’t much movement in his expression, but the interest was obvious from his words.

Godwin laughed.

"Hahaha... I didn’t know this Combat Festival would become interesting enough to make even a Duke ask me for a sneak peek."

He turned slightly toward the Queen.

"Even our Queen is contemplating it."

"I haven’t made my decision yet, Elder Godwin."

The Queen replied, her arms still folded beneath her chest.

Godwin’s smile only grew.

"Well, I’ll be waiting, because the matchups for the Ninth Round will be really pleasing to see."

He calmly stroked his beard, the small smirk on his face making the Queen narrow her eyes behind her veil.

Around them, the Arena was already beginning to empty.

Hundreds of thousands of spectators slowly poured toward the exits, yet the noise refused to disappear. Everywhere, people were still arguing over possible matchups, comparing the remaining First Years and wondering which two names would appear beside each other when the Ninth Round finally began.

Tomorrow would be a break.

A day for the remaining Young Alchemists to recover, restock their materials, rethink their strategies, and prepare themselves for what came next.

But after that single day...

The quarterfinals would begin.

And somewhere, already decided but still hidden from almost everyone in Britannia, the Ninth-Round matchups were waiting to be revealed.