Chapter 590: Continental Festival 14

The atmosphere in the room grew even colder, thick with unspoken hostility.

“Alright, you two—enough.”

The calm but firm voice came from behind them.

Sitting at the center of the private box was Principal Leilah, her posture relaxed but her gaze sharp.

She let out a quiet sigh, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face as she looked at the two nobles in front of her—the Duke and the Madam—both glaring at each other like old rivals who hadn’t aged a day.

Honestly, she was tired of this.

“I swear,” she muttered, half to herself, “you’re both parents now, for the goddess’s sake.”

Leilah leaned back in her chair, shaking her head.

She still remembered them during their academy days—always competing, always arguing, like fire and gold refusing to mix.

She hadn’t thought their rivalry would last this long, yet here they were, still at each other’s throats decades later.

Duke Raymond and Aera exchanged one last venomous look before turning away, pretending the other didn’t exist.

The tension between them didn’t fade—it just settled, quiet and sharp, like frost spreading over glass.

They both focused back on their personal holographic screens, each controlling their own view of the matches below.

I guess the golden fool still values his glory more than anything else…

Aera thought with a quiet, mocking smirk as her crimson eyes slid toward Raymond one last time.

Still, her amusement didn’t last long. Watching her students falter against his daughter was… disappointing. Their nervous, hesitant movements made her fingers twitch with irritation.

Of course, she hadn’t expected much from most of them—they were just tools for testing after all—but even so, this display was shameful.

Her eyes softened slightly when another name crossed her mind.

Hajey.

Unlike the others, her son was different—a variable she herself had placed in the competition.

As long as he followed his orders, everything would go according to plan.

She exhaled quietly and tapped the armrest of her chair, switching her screen to another feed.

The holographic display flickered before showing one specific team—one specific boy.

Her crimson eyes glinted with faint curiosity.

On the screen, Seo sat among a small group of students, calm and collected, as if none of the chaos around him mattered.

Aera’s lips curved into a small, unreadable smile.

All this time she had always avoided everything…

“The shame of my family…” she murmured under her breath, her voice almost fond. “Let’s see what you’ll do this time.”

Meanwhile, Duke Raymond Brilliance sat in silence, his gaze locked on a single holographic feed.

On the surface, he looked perfectly composed—back straight, expression calm, that same aristocratic poise that came naturally to him.

But the slight tremble in his brow and the way his hands clenched together told a different story.

His eyes followed the movements of one girl on the screen. His daughter.

Rose Brilliance.

She moved through the forest with grace and confidence, her golden hair glinting faintly in the dim light.

Out of everyone competing, she was undeniably one of the strongest—maybe the strongest.

There were only a handful who could even come close to her level.

And yet… she wasn’t fighting.

Raymond’s jaw tightened.

Why aren’t you doing anything, Rose?

He could feel his pulse rising, his irritation building beneath his composed exterior.

The top is right there—just reach for it. You can easily crush the competition if you just move. So why… why are you wasting time wandering around like this?

On the screen, Rose crouched near a patch of strange flowers, her expression calm, almost thoughtful—as if the tournament didn’t matter at all.

She wasn’t strategizing or competing… she was exploring.

Raymond’s fingers dug into his palms.

The faintest flicker of emotion crossed his face before he exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself back into silence.

His golden eyes grew cold, like a polished blade dulled by disappointment.

From behind, Principal Leilah observed the scene quietly.

She’d been watching both nobles for a while now—Aera with her hidden venom, Raymond with his restrained frustration—and all she could do was sigh.

They might have been two of the most powerful people on the continent, but right now, they looked like a pair of bickering, emotionally stunted parents watching their kids play in the dirt.

“Principal, would you like some tea?” asked Professor Amelia, seated beside her, speaking in that polite, careful tone that hinted she, too, felt the tension in the air.

“Oh, please,” Leilah said, rubbing her temples. “Make it something strong.”

Amelia gave a small smile and went to prepare it.

Leilah leaned back in her chair, her gaze flicking once more to the two nobles at opposite ends of the room—one brimming with secret hatred, the other with pride and unyielding control.

It was exhausting just looking at them.

One filled with malice, the other with ego… and both completely insufferable.

Leilah sighed again, almost laughing at herself.

Maybe it had been a mistake inviting them both into her private viewing room.

But then again—she couldn’t ignore the funding their clans poured into the academy.

She crossed her arms, watching as Amelia poured the tea.

“Money really does make you tolerate the worst kinds of people,” she muttered under her breath.

…

Out in the forest clearing, the air shimmered faintly with fading traces of mana.

One by one, fallen students dissolved into glowing particles of golden light as their safety bracelets activated, teleporting them back to the academy infirmary.

The scent of burnt earth and magic still lingered.

Standing among the scattered remains of battle were ten elven students—Team Sylva—calmly tending to their weapons.

Fay let out a small sigh, brushing strands of hair from her face as she wiped her favorite dagger clean. “Hngh~ that was tougher than usual, brother,” she said, her tone half playful, half tired.

Melan, her older brother and the team’s leader, simply nodded as he inspected his bow. “It was. At least one of them was an S-Class student from the academy.”

Fay’s ears perked slightly. “Really? Who?”

Melan shrugged, running a cloth down the curve of his weapon. “I’m not sure. But from the brooch on his uniform, he was likely a fourth-year. Strong, disciplined… the kind of opponent who doesn’t lose easily.”

He paused, glancing at the empty spot where his opponent had fallen moments ago. “It’s a shame, though. To be someone of that level and still go down here. He must not be as well-known as his so-called ’genius juniors.’ Still…” He smiled faintly. “I’d like to learn his name after this competition.”

Fay gave a light laugh, resting her dagger against her shoulder. “Fufu~ You’re far too humble, brother. But I suppose you’re right. Honorable opponents deserve that much respect.”

Melan smiled at that.

In elven culture, it was custom—almost sacred—to remember the names of worthy opponents.

To speak their names was to acknowledge their strength and spirit.

Normally, that honor was reserved only for elves.

But this time, Melan decided a human had earned that place.

He glanced up at the sky, the golden light still fading above the treetops. “For a human,” he murmured, “he fought with pride. That alone is worth remembering.”

[Rank–7: Team Forest]

The glowing text shimmered across the sky, projected by the tournament’s magic system for all to see. The elves stopped in their tracks, heads tilted upward as the golden letters hovered above the canopy.

“Look at that, brother! We ranked up again!” Fay grinned, her emerald eyes lighting up. “We’re actually closing in on the top five now!”

Melan nodded slowly, his usual calm expression barely changing. “Yes… it seems so.”

Fay crossed her arms with a playful pout. “You don’t sound very excited. Since we’ve already figured out how most of the academy’s students fight, shouldn’t we go after the top rankers next?”

Melan shook his head. “No.”

She blinked, surprised. “No?”

He lowered his bow, glancing at the rankings again before speaking. “It’s true we’ve grown used to the way the academy’s students fight, but our victories so far have come from exploiting their lack of understanding about elven magic and battle patterns. That advantage won’t last forever.”

Fay tilted her head, listening quietly.

“Our team composition is also better balanced,” Melan continued. “The academy randomly grouped their students, which makes coordination harder for them. We’ve been taking advantage of that as well. But when it comes to the upper ranks…”

He paused, looking toward the deeper part of the forest where distant clashes echoed faintly.

“We still haven’t met anyone I’d call a true genius.”

Fay’s ears twitched. “So you’re saying one of those top-ranking teams probably has at least one of those geniuses?”

Melan nodded once. “Exactly.”

“Hmm…” Fay sighed. “That’s kind of a shame. I wanted to test myself against them. But if you say wait, I’ll wait. What’s the plan then? Time’s running out for the competition—should we just be satisfied with the points we have?”

Melan smiled faintly, the corner of his lips lifting. “No. We’ll do what we’ve always done. Hunt down weaker teams and collect as many points as we can before the next announcement. That will put us in a safer spot before the finals.”

Fay twirled her dagger between her fingers, her grin returning. “Alright then, brother. As you say!”

The rest of their teammates, who had been quietly observing, gave firm nods of agreement.

“Let’s move,” Melan said, his tone calm but decisive. “Stay sharp. The higher we climb, the more eyes will be on us.”

As they moved deeper into the forest, their steps light and soundless, the elves continued tracking faint mana traces scattered across the area.

Their senses—sharp, almost instinctual thanks to their elven heritage—guided them toward weaker signatures. Easy targets.

Or so they thought.

Just as Melan was about to signal his team to spread out, everyone froze at once.

Their instincts screamed.

“…Brother?” Fay whispered, gripping her dagger tighter.

Melan didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed ahead.

Someone was standing there—just a few meters away.

A young woman.

Dark hair that reached her shoulders, faintly tinted red at the tips, and crimson eyes that seemed to glow faintly even in the dim forest light.

She stood there casually, as if she had been waiting for them, her posture relaxed, her hands loosely behind her back.

None of them had sensed her. Not even a hint of her mana until now.

A question echoed in all their minds—

How?

How had she hidden herself so completely that even elves, with their heightened perception, hadn’t noticed her until it was too late?

“I didn’t expect, the blessed descendants of my key would be here. Truly, fate has its own strange sense of humor, doesn’t it?”

Her tone was calm—almost amused.

Melan’s brows furrowed. “Who… are you?”

He tried to keep his voice steady, but a cold sensation crawled down his spine.

There was something about her presence. Something wrong.

She looked like an ordinary academy student, yet every fiber of his being screamed danger. His instincts were urging him to run.

It wasn’t just him. His teammates all felt it too—the same suffocating dread.

The woman tilted her head slightly, smiling wider. “Hmm, does that really matter?” she said lightly. “Let’s just say I’m helping out a friend right now… so, try not to resist too much, okay?”

“Wha—”

Before Melan could even finish his word, a deep, rumbling voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once—

[THEY ARE EXCELLENT, OH GREAT BEING~]

The moment it spoke, the air twisted.

A crushing pressure descended upon them, so heavy it made their knees buckle.

Blood spilled from their lips as a wave of darkness swept over the clearing, devouring even the faintest light that filtered through the trees.

“What… is this…?” Fay gasped, clutching her chest, her dagger slipping from her trembling hand.

The woman didn’t even flinch.

She looked up calmly, her crimson eyes glinting.

“You take care of the rest, Asmodeus,” she said softly.

And from the darkness, that same voice responded, dripping with devotion—

[UNDERSTOOD. I WON’T FAIL YOU.]

The forest trembled.

The elves barely had time to scream before everything around them turned pitch black.

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