Chapter 277: Utterly Unsatisfying

Another week had passed since my match with Ravilenna. After securing my sixth point against her as Feyt, I took part in more matches throughout the week.

In total, after tallying it up, I had twenty matches in total across both bodies. Everyone was assigned a maximum of ten matches throughout the preliminary match period, so that meant that the preliminary tournament had officially come to an end.

Just like how it started, it ended without much fanfare.

Now, how did I feel after the dust had settled?

To put it bluntly: Utterly unsatisfying.

After the intense duel with Ravilenna as Feyt, I was genuinely riding a high. Not only did I discover a new method of analyzing my opponents as Carine, but I also got a new area to focus my hearing on to improve my predictions as Feyt.

At this rate, I might have to mark down any dual-wielding students in the academy as high-potential sparring partners.

However, and I really should’ve anticipated this, I was left utterly disappointed when my future matches came.

The rest of Feyt’s opponents were… depressing, to say the least.

There wasn't a single opponent after Ravilenna who offered any real spark. Most of them fought like a first-year student might fight. With standard basics, clunky or overdone executions, easily predicted even without using my ears…

On top of that, two of them didn’t even bother showing up… again…

Meanwhile, on Carine’s side…

It was a total mess.

I learned from Lionne that a rumor had started spreading shortly after my match with Myura.

Apparently, Myura had a lot of friends, and after my match, she… changed. When her friends asked her what happened to her, her only words were:

“I fought a monster.”

That was it. That was the rumor that had infected the minds of my remaining opponents. It sounded like an absurd, overblown piece of academy gossip... yet it had a terrifyingly profound effect.

Because you want to know the absolute best part?

Basically ALL of Carine’s remaining matches were no-shows!!

Out of the few who actually bothered to enter the room, almost every single one took a look at my face and immediately surrendered on the mat. I managed to get one actual match—against a noble girl who had studied under Mother and Father, a classmate of mine before the academy—and even that ended in a split second. She was so tense and riddled with obvious openings that the fight was over before I could even draw out my lines.

I almost slammed my head against my desk out of pure, burning frustration. How could such a simple, ridiculous rumor make facing me feel like a literal execution to these people?

It felt rigged.

My matches felt absolutely rigged.

But I knew for a fact that it wasn’t. This was just the reality of this academy’s first-year student body.

As Prince Julient said, the first year of studies was just the basics. Basics someone with early education like me would find relentlessly trifling. But it was necessary due to how the education system in Setus worked.

Which meant that, outside of a few standouts, most of the students I had been paired with barely knew how to properly wield their own weapons in a real duel, let alone fight someone they thought was a “monster.”

It still didn’t help that Carine’s expression was still ice cold. No matter how much I tried to force a warm smile as natural as Feyt’s, I would just look like a manic serial killer cornering their prey.

In fact, I’m pretty sure I would’ve gotten at least one more genuine match had I not tried that smile on one of my opponents.

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And so, despite all the efforts I put into my early morning wake-ups, nutritional lunches, and learning new techniques… Apparently I would’ve done fine enough without any of that.

I ended up with a flawless record for both bodies.

Ten points as Feyt.

Ten points as Carine.

Yet it felt utterly unsatisfying.

It didn’t help that both of my last matches ended up being no-shows, including Feyt’s. How wonderful.

This academy, I swear…

But… what was done was done. Now that I knew my final point count, I could at least relax knowing I reached phase two of the tournament.

Just this morning, a new notice was posted. It only went up on a few of the main announcement boards instead of all of them, but I managed to catch a quick read during my morning jog as Feyt.

To summarize the point of the notice, basically, anyone with more than six points after all of their preliminary matches would officially be advancing to the second phase.

So, anyone with seven points or above would qualify. I personally thought it was a sensible line to draw.

It weeded out the casual slackers who were only here for the sake of it and the chronic no-shows from those who were actually putting their back into it, keeping the bracket reasonably clean and balanced for a real tournament, deserving of a proper grand arena.

Luckily, the second phase wouldn't be starting for another week. The academy was granting everyone a whole seven days to rest, recuperate, and train before throwing us into the main arena.

After the mental slog the preliminary matches put me through, I really needed that.

I hadn’t had the chance to ask everyone’s scores yet, but I did manage to learn about some of them.

Lionne shared that she only managed to win three points. She apparently forfeited a lot of her match, knowing her limits. In a way, that's kind of respectable.

Villius managed to earn eight points. He was practically beaming with pride when he told me he’d qualified for the second phase. Though right before we parted ways, he made sure to probe for Feyt’s score as well, for some reason.

Attila scored a whopping nine points. The only match she lost was by default because she accidentally overslept during an afternoon nap and completely missed her match slot.

She didn’t seem bothered by it, though I couldn't help but feel a little bit of sympathy for her opponent, who undoubtedly had to stand on a training mat for twenty agonizing minutes staring at the door.

As for Clarissa… I had fully expected her to sweep a flawless ten points, barring some ridiculous accident like Attila’s. When we last spoke a few days ago, she was still riding a clean win streak alongside me.

Yet, according to Lionne, Clarissa ended up finishing with nine points after losing her very last match. Clarissa hadn't disclosed to Lionne who had managed to beat her, but whoever pulled off a victory against Clarissa was undoubtedly going to be a formidable contender in the main arena.

Next time I see Clarissa, I’ll have to ask her about it.

—

Seven points.

That was the sum total of Lechter’s effort.

He stood alone in the center of an empty practice chamber, the suffocating quiet broken only by the sound of his own heavy breathing. His knuckles were bone-white as his fingers dug into the grip of a standard wooden sword.

Seven points.

He had barely scraped past the threshold to qualify for the second phase.

And those three losses… they were utterly humiliating.

None of those three students possessed his raw strength. None of them could match his speed. Yet each of them had dismantled him with absurd, infuriating ease.

One had simply used his overwhelming momentum against him, guiding his wild swing straight out of the ring, disqualifying him.

Another had caught him off-balance and cleanly swept his legs out from under him.

The third had merely waited for him to overextend and punished the gaping opening in his defense.

Each defeat he faced was a cruel, repeating echo of her words:

“Swordplay isn't what your hands were made for, is it?”

He wouldn't even be standing in the second phase if it hadn't been for his very last match.

His tenth opponent had been a bow user, the first and only archer he had encountered throughout the entire two weeks of the preliminary rounds.

The moment she stepped onto the mat, he knew. He didn't even need to see her shoot; just by the posture of her shoulders, the terrifying calmness in her eyes, and the effortless way she held her weapon, he could tell she possessed a Talent for archery.

As soon as the match started, the battlefield was clear to him. He knew exactly the rhythm of her draws, no matter how fast they were. He knew exactly where she would aim, even before she would aim there.

In a way, he knew her bow better than her, and for the first time in a while, he found himself completely and naturally anticipating her every move. In the end, he managed to close the distance and ended the match in one strike.

He had won his seventh point, securing his spot at the second phase…

Yet it brought him no joy. If anything, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The only reason he had won wasn’t because of his swordplay. It was because of that damned Talent.

Lechter’s grip tightened around the wooden hilt until his palms throbbed with a dull ache.

There was no doubt in his mind that Carine Sareid had swept through her bracket and was waiting for him in the second phase. In the grand arena, in front of the entire academy, he would face her again. And there, he would break her pride, and his own curse, once and for all.

So, he raised his sword, set his stance, and swung.

He needed to train. He needed to swing until his mind went numb.

He needed to swing until that cursed Talent left his mind entirely.

Only then would he be free.

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