"D-Daru Finnley!" the B-ranker in front of him accidentally shouted in startlent, causing heads to turn instinctively.
Pure chaos ensued.
If at the start of the academic year there were a considerable minority who hadn’t heard of his na, now there was not a single student who hadn’t.
A once-promising Sword Prince of a renowned high school, who had a disastrous awakening and was the only F-ranker in history to beco his class’s representative...
Shortly after this bombshell news, he suddenly fell into a strange state, unable to leave the Myriad Sword Realm.
People had assud that he was long dead.
None expected to hear the na that was already fading into obsolescence again.
"Y-You! aren’t you dead already?!" the B-ranker half-shrieked.
Daru raised one brow.
"How can I be dead? I’m here, aren’t I?"
No one could respond, partly because he was correct and partly due to sheer disbelief.
While those at the back were tongue-tied, the commotion scrambled to the front.
More and more students looked back, asking what was going on at the back.
Then it reached three individuals.
Around the middle, a young man of brown hair and a lavender-haired young woman were queued up next to each other, thinking that they heard wrong.
Why was Daru’s na being ntioned?
Their hearts raced as they looked at each other.
Before Cody and Elune realized their legs were already moving. They jogged towards the end of the queue, utterly bewildered.
Still, their senses worked as they moved, taking in information from the chaotic hubbub.
The two didn’t want to harbour expectations yet.
But the ruckus suggested they should.
After all, who else except their friend would both be called Daru Finnley and have enough fa within the academy to be instantly recognized?
Hearts racing, Cody and Elune transitioned into a run. Everyone around them was looking in a single direction.
The more distance they covered, the more their heart rate increased.
Then it just happened.
Cody and Elune stood frozen, finding themselves face to face with soone they thought had t with a bleak fate.
"Ah, it’s you two..."
"D-D-DARU!!"
***
**
anwhile, a cherry blossom-haired young man — considerably older than those queued but still a young man nonetheless — noticed another queue in his peripheral vision.
The Bladeborns in that fast-moving line seed to be in deep pondernt. Caleb traced the source, his eyes finding rest upon the massive signboard posted above the vast shop with only one queue but nurous counters catering to it.
Betting Stations...
Accessing his inventory, Caleb checked how many Swordcoins he had on him.
He had been stuck in Limbo for so long that he had forgotten the darned currency even existed.
"59,300..."
For an SS-ranker, Caleb’s Swordcoin reserves were rather pitiful.
But not for long.
His eyes...they glead and sang in "ka-ching!"s as he noticed a na at the bottom row of the Odds Signboard, seemingly having been recently added:
"Class 70 / Omaru / Sword Tier: F / Odds: x30.85 (Champion), x15.62 (Finals), x10.23 (Semis), x8.92 (Quarters)"
’Hahaha, there’s no way! This...this is too good to be true!’
Without hesitation, Caleb queued, falling into deep pondernt like the others. Being an SS-ranker, he naturally garnered so attention, even causing a bit of a commotion.
People were confused as to why they couldn’t recognize the na Ascalon.
But Caleb paid them no attention. Instead, he thought about whether he should throw caution to the wind and bet all his money on Daru becoming a champion.
Caleb’s cautiousness won out in the end, though.
The line was still long. He still had ti to do so research.
"Hey, brother." He tapped the shoulder of the slightly younger man, who seed to be curious but didn’t dare look too much in his direction, perhaps intimidated.
Poncho flinched, startled. Still, he turned, not daring to ignore an SS-ranker.
"Y-Yes, Sir Ascalon?"
"Just Ascalon is fine, don’t sweat the small details. Say...can you fill in on the Sky Prince and the three S-rankers? I want to place a bet, you see..."
Hearing his words, Poncho’s nervousness vanished like smoke in the wind. He wasn’t confident in his combat skills, but Poncho had done his research well, hoping to make so big bucks.
He wasn’t afraid of speaking his mind about this matter.
"Ah, no problem! So you see, the Sky Prince..."
Poncho patiently explained what he knew as the line progressed, becoming more enthusiastic at Caleb’s nods.
His words were being taken seriously by an SS-ranker!
Soon, there were only ten people before them, but they were done discussing.
"W-Well then, Ascalon. I’ve said what I know. The final decision is on you."
Then, with a bow, Poncho turned and minded his own business. Being overly chummy would just reduce the good graces he had earned.
It seed as though the conversation would end there.
But then, to the C-ranker, Poncho’s surprise, he felt another tap on his shoulder. Ascalon was trying to talk to him again!
"Y-Yes, Ascalon?"
"Since you’re so knowledgeable and patient in explaining to , I’ll also let you in on what I know. This...this will make you big bucks. But of course, as you said, the final decision is on you." Caleb grinned mysteriously as he whispered.
Poncho’s heart skipped a beat. Before he could respond, however, the SS-ranker continued, this ti in a softer voice.
"See that representative of Class 70? Bet half of your coin reserves on him becoming a champion and half on him becoming a finalist. That’s what I plan to do, taking into account everything you told ."
Then, with another, more solid tap on the shoulder, Caleb’s grin was replaced by a faint smile, and he minded his own business.
That...was the perfect bet to place! Caleb couldn’t be more certain.
While he wouldn’t win as much money as he would if he went bollocks on the betting, his decision ensured that if Daru won the entire thing, he would still profit from both tickets, although slightly less.
If his brother lost in the finals, he would still win way more than he would lose.
What never crossed Caleb’s mind was that Daru wouldn’t reach the finals.
In his mind, there was zero chance in a monochromatic hell that such a thing would happen, despite there being three other S-rankers contending for the said spot.
Soon, Poncho was called by a counter, and Caleb by another. They parted ways there.
It was up to the C-ranker if he had the balls to dare.
As for Caleb, he was whistling in sheer anticipation — his mood a jolly sunrise as he headed over to claim the VIP seat his sister had arranged for him.
Not only would he get to watch a favored brother’s identity reveal, but he would also get to watch exciting matches between the other S-rankers and the so-called Sky Prince!
’Ah, what a great day for a poor wretch!’
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