Under a canopy of leaden clouds, the voice of the Live Commentator rang out across the arena, whipping the crowd into a fever pitch.
"The Fighting Tournament has reached the third round, and the intensity is only rising! The sky might be gray today, but that’s only because the heavens themselves are holding back tears of joy at the magnitude of this clash!"
The crowd erupted in a roar that shook the very foundation of the arena.
They knew who was about to step onto the stage. They understood exactly what kind of legend was about to grace them with his presence.
"That’s right, everyone here knows the name! Bestia Empire’s pride, the S-Rank Adventurer who bears the alias of 'Immovable'—Noise! His opponent is Ruzy, the leader of the C-Rank Adventurer Party, Wind Dragon Fang! Ruzy's massive frame and the bone-crushing power of his claymore have stunned this audience time and again. But wait, there’s more! Wind Dragon Fang is a three-person party, and the other two members—the Thief Veikyul and the Mage Most—are names you should recognize!"
The stadium buzzed with intrigued murmurs.
"Some of you have realized it, haven't you? Veikyul and Most may have been eliminated, but both of them earned their place in the Main Tournament! In an incredible display of skill, every single member of Wind Dragon Fang broke through the Qualifying Rounds. This isn't a veteran party that’s been grinding for years—this is their very first entry, and they’ve achieved the historic feat of sending the entire party to the Main Tournament!"
The revelation was met with a stunned silence that lasted only a heartbeat before a second, even louder wave of cheers broke.
After today, the Wind Dragon Fang name would be known throughout the Imperial Capital. Through the stories of these spectators, their fame would spread across the Bestia Empire and to every neighboring nation.
Yet, despite the acclaim, Ruzy showed no sign of pleasure as he walked onto the stage. If anything, he looked profoundly disgruntled.
The reason for his irritation lay in the nature of the cheers echoing from the stands.
"We'll be rooting for you next year too!"
"Reaching the third round on your first try is plenty! You'll go further next time!"
"You're lucky just to share a stage with the Immovable!"
"Eeeek! I want Veikyul-sama to step on me too!"
Ruzy let the last comment slide—since it wasn't about him—but he gave a disgruntled snort as he reached for the claymore slung across his back.
(Hmph. I wonder how many of these people actually think I have a chance... Fine. I’ll just have to prove them wrong.)
With that thought, he drew the massive blade and swung it in a wide arc.
The claymore cut through the air with a heavy whoosh. It was a custom-made masterpiece, significantly larger and heavier than any standard model, forged specifically for someone with Ruzy’s immense strength. It was a weapon that had claimed the lives of countless monsters—and dozens of bandits.
Ruzy had no intention of rolling over and losing as easily as the spectators expected.
Or at least, he hadn't.
But the moment Noise stepped onto the stage and they came face-to-face, Ruzy felt his breath hitch. An overwhelming weight bore down on him, and he reflexively recoiled several steps, driven back by sheer Intimidation.
He froze, aghast at his own reaction.
Noise hadn't moved. He hadn't even drawn his longsword yet. He was simply standing there.
(So this is... Rank S...)
Ruzy swallowed hard, his mind racing. Only now, facing the man directly, did he truly grasp the gulf between them. To say Noise’s power was vast was an understatement; it was a bottomless abyss.
(I can't afford to lose like this! Not after everything!)
He swung his claymore grandly, forcing his body to move as if to drive the fear from his heart. To an observer, it might have looked like an attempt to intimidate a superior opponent, and in truth, that was exactly what it was.
Surprisingly, Noise let out a small sound of interest, noticing that Ruzy hadn't buckled under the pressure.
"Hoh."
It was a single, soft word, but in that instant, the Intimidation released from Noise intensified.
Ruzy didn't back down. He settled into his stance and glared at the legend before him.
(I see. Once you reach the third round, you finally start finding people worth expecting something from. Perhaps participating in this tournament wasn't a total waste of time.)
Noise allowed a thin smile to touch his lips and drew his longsword.
It was a motion every swordsman practiced thousands of times, but Ruzy found himself mesmerized. The action was so fluid, so impossibly smooth, that it felt less like a combat maneuver and more like a work of art.
"He... heheh."
Ruzy had already steeled his resolve. He wouldn't let himself be cowed. He forced a grin onto his face, though it was clearly a bluff. Noise didn't mock him; he respected the fact that the man could still smile while standing in the shadow of his aura. Noise raised his longsword into a ready position.
Ruzy mirrored him, gripping his claymore tight.
The Referee, seeing both men were ready, gave the signal.
"Match, start!"
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
The crowd roared, though neither fighter had moved yet. They were all there for Noise.
"Ugh... Ooooooooooh!"
Ruzy shattered the tension, charging Noise with everything he had.
He didn't bother testing his opponent. He knew that against someone like Noise, any half-hearted attempt would result in immediate defeat. He poured every ounce of his pride and physical strength into a single, devastating blow.
It was the fastest, sharpest strike he had ever delivered in his life as an adventurer.
And it was stopped cold. Noise met the massive claymore with the blade of his longsword, which he seemed to have thrust out with casual indifference.
"What!?"
Ruzy gasped in shock. He hadn't expected to win with one hit, but he never imagined his best strike could be halted by a longsword held in a single hand.
(His speed is one thing... but this strength is insane! You monster!)
He screamed inwardly, fighting back the rising tide of terror. He used the momentum from the parry to spin, whipping the claymore around in a horizontal slash aimed at Noise’s midsection.
It wasn't a cut; it was a demolition. Even an opponent in Full Plate would have their armor crushed and their ribs pulverized by the impact.
But once again, Noise simply held out his longsword and neutralized the blow with ease.
If Noise had shown even a flicker of effort, Ruzy might have felt he was making progress. But Noise's expression remained utterly blank. It was a hallmark of an S-Rank fighter to remain unreadable, but to Ruzy, it was maddening. He clicked his tongue in frustration.
(That didn't work either!?)
Shaken by the fact that Noise could stop his strongest attacks with one hand, Ruzy tried to leap back and reset.
"The power behind that blow was passable. Your decisiveness is good, and your judgment is quick."
The words fell from Noise's mouth, reaching Ruzy's ears.
It was praise, certainly, but delivered like a mundane checklist. It grated on Ruzy's nerves.
Acting on pure impulse instead of retreating, Ruzy lunged forward with a thrust.
Thrusting wasn't his specialty. A claymore was built for hacking and crushing, especially one as oversized as his. His attempt lacked any real finesse or sharpness.
Compared to someone like Rhodos, whose thrusts were legendary, Ruzy’s attempt was clumsy. But with a weapon that size, the sheer mass made it dangerous. To an ordinary adventurer, it would have looked like a wall of steel was rushing toward them.
However, he was fighting the wrong man.
"Did you sense something? Unfortunately, I cannot give a high evaluation to an attack governed by mere instinct."
Noise met Ruzy's all-out thrust with one of his own. In a display of god-like technique, Noise extended his longsword and perfectly pinned the longsword tip against the sword tip of the incoming claymore, arresting its momentum completely.
To meet the point of a charging claymore with the tiny tip of a longsword was a feat of impossible precision.
Ruzy, seeing it happen inches from his face, was paralyzed with shock.
"Wha—!"
"This is what happens when you attempt a maneuver you haven't mastered."
With those words came a thunderous impact.
Before he knew it, Ruzy's body was sprawled on the stone.
He scrambled to his feet, gasping for air, only to realize he had been blown back to the very edge of the stage. He looked toward Noise and saw the man pulling back his left fist.
Looking down at his armor, Ruzy saw a deep indentation in the metal. He finally realized what had happened.
Unbelievably, while Noise had been busy pinning the claymore with his sword tip, he had used his free left hand to punch Ruzy across the ring.
By some miracle, Ruzy’s fingers were still wrapped around the handle of his claymore. Despite the bone-shattering force of the blow and the distance he’d flown, he hadn't let go. He forced himself to stand, a pained smile on his face, refusing to quit.
"Guh!"
A white-hot agony flared in his side—right where the punch had landed over his armor. His movement hitched for a second.
He stood up anyway. It was Ruzy's pride that kept his legs from buckling.
(Dammit... my ribs are absolute toast. What kind of freakish strength do you need to do this much damage with your non-dominant hand?)
He breathed through the pain, confirming that the fire in his gut hadn't gone out yet. He raised his claymore again.
He knew now, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that Noise was in an entirely different league.
But he had talked too much trash to his party members to tuck his tail and run now. He knew it was just a bluff, a bit of meaningless stubbornness, but it was the very core of who he was. He couldn't retreat.
"Huuuuu... haaaaa..."
He steadied his breathing, fighting the nausea from his broken ribs.
Usually, an opponent would have capitalized on his recovery time, but Ruzy had a strange certainty that Noise wouldn't move until he was ready. He was right. Noise stood perfectly still, watching him with an impassive gaze.
Ruzy had initially seen this as Noise looking down on him, but after seeing the gap in their power, he couldn't even find the energy to be offended. One hit was all it had taken to leave him struggling to even stand.
(But... even so... that's exactly why!)
He took one final deep breath, ignored the scream of his ribs, and threw every remaining ounce of strength into a desperate charge.
"I won't... lose so easily!"
He closed the gap.
He brought the claymore down with everything he had left.
Against any ordinary adventurer, the blow would have been unavoidable. It bore down on Noise like a falling mountain.
"Impressive."
The word was followed by a final, heavy impact that rocked Ruzy's body to its core. Ruzy's consciousness flickered and died, and he crumpled onto the stone of the stage.