“Winner, Zeke Klein from the Upper Class!!!” Klaus declared.
The audience roared in amazent and cheers. Of course, they did! For such a splendid match, anything less would have been an insult.
The arena was still crackling with electricity, and charred marks filled the stage. There was no glamorous destruction thanks to the enhancents added to the platform beforehand, but the remnant scars on the floor proved enough of the match’s intensity.
Of course, it was inevitable that an Upper-Class Elite would win, but it was still a bit of a shock—no, downright unbelievable—how poorly the Middle-Class Student fared.
There was too large a gap between the two that it felt like a Third Year was fighting a beginner. The way Zeke easily won against his opponent, using his destructive lightning blasts to counter all areas before the Wind Mage could get any closer was impressive.
And so, after only a few minutes since the start of the match… the victor was announced.
‘Damn it…’ Jerry gulped and gave a shivering thought.
He shuddered at the thought of actually fighting such a devastating fellow… and the Zeke guy was only top six!
What if he fought against soone who was of a higher rank? Would he stand a chance?
It wasn’t like Jerry wasn’t aware of his strength, but…
“Next, we have…” Klaus Tallman announced, forcing the boy’s head to bob high in order to see who would be chosen next.
To Jerry’s relief… it wasn’t him!
The contestants approached the stage, ready to begin the next round.
Of course, the crowd, at this point, were in a frenzy!
Never had they seen such brilliant display of Magic—well, other than a few matches among so exceptional folks in the previous rounds—none ca close.
The next group of contestants consisted of two Martial Artists and a Magic-User.
Unlike the official Exchange among students which strictly divided the matches based on departnts, the Elite Tournant did not follow such protocols.
To fully maximize the effects of an exciting match and simulate what actual combat was like, they pit mbers of separate divisions against each other.
Due to school policy, no Scholar could be a mber of the Elite Ten, unless they had specialization in Magic Combat or Martial Arts.
That ant those who were in fact Scholars, needed to be able to fight!
Among the Rankers, there was only one Scholar, and among the thirty Elite students in Ainzlark, five belonged to the Scholar Departnt.
That showed just how few academically driven students were among the strongest in the school!
The fight about to unfold, however, had no Scholar among the contestants.
Jerry diligently observed as all three were about to fight.
He could perhaps learn a thing or two from their exchange!
“Begin!”
It only took a few seconds—no, probably just one—for a voice to screech out.
“I give up!”
As expected… it ca from none other than a mber of the Lower Class!
********************
“I give up!”
********************
“I no longer wish to participate!”
********************
“I surrender!”
********************
“I forfeit!”
**********************
No matter the kind of language used, those words essentially ant the sa thing, and they ca from the sa group of people!
That’s right! The Lower Class Elite Ten!
Out of the six matches that had occurred so far, the Lower Class Elites had forfeited every single one.
It was no longer a surprise when they raised their shaless hands to declare their intention to surrender.
The crowd had long grown tired of booing them and had now co to look at them with disdain. For all they cared, this was no longer a match among three Classes, but among two.
But, could it really be called a match?
Despite the Middle Class’ unyielding effort to try surpassing those of the Upper Class, none had co out victorious.
Win after Win… everything went to the Upper-Class Elite Ten!
The current scores were like this;
Upper Class— 6 Wins 0 Losses
Middle Class— 0 Wins 6 Losses
Lower Class— 0 Wins 6 Losses
Since forfeiting automatically ant a loss, the Lower Class took on the sa position as those who had actually been fighting with all they had, but still ended up losing—the Elites of the Middle Class.
In a way, one could say the Middle Class was no different from the Lower Class.
They were both overwhelmingly placed at the losing end, with no sign of victory!
Jerry clasped his hands together to keep them from shaking as he saw the list surface again. Would it be his turn now? The boy’s heart thumped uncontrollably, not knowing what his fate would be.
GULP!
Finally, the nas appeared… and for the first ti since the lists began surfacing, Jerry did not sigh in relief. No, it was the opposite actually.
His eyes widened in shock, perhaps a bit of fear. Sweat dripped from his face as his dry lips smacked against each other. He forced himself to swallow the nonexistent saliva in his throat as the nas registered in his brain.
[Seventh Round]
— Ciara Epilson (Upper Class)
—Roy Lesryio (Middle Class)
— Jeremy Elly (Lower Class)
[Contestants Get On Stage!]
Jerry’s na was not on the list, but the people who would now contest piques a great deal of his interest.
The Middle Class and Lower Class contestants were surprisingly both of the first ranks respectively.
Was it coincidence, or a glitch in the randomizer?
How could two students who had the highest rank compete on the sa stage? That was a recipe for disaster!
Still, that wasn’t Jerry’s major concern.
The one who caught all of his focus—at least ninety percent of it, to be exact—was the Upper-Class Elite who had already stood and was making her way to the stage—
—Ciara Epilson!
She was the one who would be fighting in the next round.
The gasps and shrieks of the audience were so deafening that Jerry could barely hear his own thoughts.
What was on his mind? Was it excitent as well? Was the boy looking forward to seeing how much Ciara had grown after their last exchange?
Perhaps…
… But a stronger feeling crept up in his heart. It was fear!
How much stronger had she gotten ever since the last ti they actually interacted? Well, Jerry would soon see.
What frightened the determined young boy, though… was whether he would still have the courage to continue after experiencing it!
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