The Hall was filled with surprise.
Put Moderator had just said the unbelievable and everyone was recoiling from his words. According to Klaus Tallman, a lecturer in his own right, Edward could pick his contestants.
“So, I can choose you?” Edward broke the silence by asking the most unexpected question.
For a mont, it seed Klaus didn’t understand his question. When it finally dawned on him, the man gasped and took a step backward before bursting into laughter.
“No, no. Not Lecturers. Forgive for not making things clearer.” I still sensed vestiges of amusent from the man’s voice.
“What I an is… you, Edward, can pick a contestant from any of the students in this Hall!”
My chest tightened the mont I heard that announcent, and that was because Edward’s gaze instantly shifted to .
The way his widened eyes stared in my direction caused to be nervous. What was on this dense boy’s mind? Could he really…
“Oh, yeah, and that student must have registered as a participant of the Martial Arts Division, obviously,” Klaus added.
Those words saved as I gave a sigh of relief while noticing a teary look from my pupil and companion.
‘Pfft. Did he really think of picking ?’ I mused.
Obviously, the contest wasn’t going to allow Magic Users to fight Martial Artists. That was completely imbalanced.
Still, the fact that Klaus failed to ntion a restriction in Classes ant that Klaus could indeed pick a competitor from his Lower Class… maybe even challenge seniors!
‘I wonder what the tournant executives are thinking by doing this…’
If Edward wanted to, he could simply choose an opponent that guaranteed his victory. That was the obvious choice, no?
Giving him a blank check was tantamount to saying he could get away with an easy win if he so desired.
But…
‘Is winning the goal of the Martial Arts Finals, or is there sothing more?’
… I was curious about the outco. One thing for sure was that Edward would never even dream of challenging a weakling.
Since I knew the boy so well, it was easier to determine who he would go for.
The boy’s eyes darted across the stage as he t with the gaze of many—so of which gave uneasy expressions as their eyes t. I followed Edward’s focus, noticing as it trailed to the person I already suspected would be the obvious choice.
“You… I choose you!” Edward pointed in the direction of soone who sat in the Lower Class area… but in the Third Year angle!
Everyone gasped, and those who couldn’t really see the one Edward referred to seed to struggle to take a better look. I, of course, already knew him well.
The boy in question was dazed, completely knocked out of the realm of expectations.
“W-wha—?!” I watched his lips form.
The boy comically looked around him, most likely expecting to see Edward’s finger pointing sowhere else, but from what he must have seen… no one else could have been ‘it’.
“I’m talking about you, spearman!” Edward yelled, finally hamring his point.
A smile played across my face as the senior was forced to rise and descend from his seat.
Most people would not have expected this choice, no, it was certain none did. A majority of the audience was most likely unable to recognize the one who slowly approached the stage.
But, Edward and I knew perfectly well!
It was the senior who lost at the hands of nine other contestants during the preliminary elimination round—The Battle Royale!
Edward and I had both passionately watched as this boy in question stood his ground and single-handedly fought back his aggressors. He didn’t give in despite the overwhelming disadvantage, and kept swinging his far-reaching weapon till he lost.
Many had forgotten already, but Edward clearly had that mory ingrained in his head. Judging the determined and respectful expression on his face, it was obvious that the boy thought very highly of the senior that didn’t even make it to the Quarter-Finals.
As soon as he got close enough to the stage, I watched Edward’s contestant pick his weapon—the Spear—and climb the platform where he would fight my pupil.
The crowd was still confused, but it seed they had grown to accept the current matchup and went with the flow. Only true Martial Artists would actually understand what was going on!
“So, this is your choice? Alright, then!” Klaus spoke with finality and made his way to the end of the stage.
“Let the Finals of the Martial Arts Combat for the First Years… begin!”
One would expect this to be followed up by the clash of blades, but a lull took over the stage once the battle had been declared to comnce.
Both boys stared passionately at each other, clearly having words they would like to render.
“Why… why did you choose ?”
Of course, that would be the first thing the senior would ask.
Edward gave a proper smile and bowed slightly.
“It’s because I watched your fight with those other seniors and respected your stance. You were more honorable and skilled than the others, yet you never got that chance to display your skills…”
The senior bit his lip slightly, most likely rembering the humiliating mont where he was cornered.
“That’s why I want us to both give it our all! Let’s fight—us Lower-Class Martial Artists… and show everyone what we can do!”
Edward’s voice scread of juvenile enthusiasm, but that seed to do the trick for the spearman senior.
He gave a soft smile, and what happened to be sparkles of tears ford in his eyes.
“Thank you… truly.”
Edward nodded and bowed once again in respect.
“May I ask for your na?”
Since he never made it past the Battle Royale, the senior’s na was never announced.
“I’m Jeffery Keener. You can call Jeff, though.”
Edward sharply nodded.
“I am Edward Karl Leon! You can call Ed!”
Both Martial Artists, as though long friends, gave each other mutual smiles and nodded. It felt like I was watching the reunion of an older and younger brother.
“Now, then, Jeff…”
“Very well, Ed…”
The voices of both boys simultaneously sounded.
Both gripping their weapons tightly and staring passionately at the other, they took their respective stances.
“… Let us begin!”
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