The first two rest days we returned to the same dungeon. The girls gained a few levels and improved their overall efficiency in combat. As for me, I was able to practice my prison technique and polish my mana control a little more. I had never fought so defensively before; constantly creating different kinds of constructs pushed my creativity to the limit and helped me explore new ways of applying Deadly Arcane Construction. Every exchange became both a challenge and a lesson.

Even so, I couldn't gain any actual skill levels during those three days. On the last day I spent almost all my time training with the bracelets. Thanks to the slight boost in mana control I gained during our dungeon runs, the losses have become smaller—I now lose fewer parts of my limbs each time. Yesterday I was surprised when in one attempt I only lost half of an arm instead of a full limb. The rest of the tries were harsher, though; I still ended up losing at least two limbs by half. But compared to before, this felt like progress.

"Are you ready for today?" Arisa asked me with a brightness in her tone, more cheerful than usual. She must have discovered something interesting. "I know you've been avoiding learning anything about the new jewel of the Merno Kingdom, but I found out a few details. The only way you'll face him is if both of you reach the finals. The organizers decided it that way because you two finished with perfect scores and in the shortest possible time." Her words actually stirred something inside me.

"Thanks. If I had fought him before the final, all motivation would have vanished." I would still win the tournament, of course, but the feeling of victory wouldn't taste the same. Just then, the card in my hand began to glow. I said goodbye to everyone and headed straight to the designated arena. Matches now have a specific schedule, so the public can enjoy most of the fights they want to see.

Arisa's Point of View

"Girls, I didn't just find that out. I also discovered that the star from the Merno Kingdom is absurdly strong. I only managed to watch one of his fights, and he defeated his opponents with striking ease." My curiosity had won over me. I didn't tell Maki because he insists on being surprised, but there's no harm if we know something while keeping it from him.

"Is he stronger than Maki?" Sol asked, her face showing both worry and curiosity.

"I don't know. They both ended their battles extremely quickly… The difference is that Maki takes his time, enjoying the fight, while the other one tried to crush his opponents as soon as possible." I've heard rumors about that boy's personality—arrogant, haughty, and constantly looking down on everyone else. A lifetime of being better than everyone else must have shaped that twisted character.

"No, Maki is stronger." Marga jumped in without hesitation. "Maki is an anomaly in every sense. He's not just another limit breaker. Remember Susan's words." Sol and I exchanged glances at that reminder. Grandma Susan had taken the opportunity, when Maki was busy, to talk to us privately about him.

Maki, she said, is a talent that outshines all other talents, someone destined to mark an entire era. Limit breakers usually become less noticeable as ranks increase—the gap in power between each rank only grows larger. But she believes that rule won't apply to Maki. He will always remain immeasurable, defying the natural order.

"An anomaly in every sense," Sol agreed softly. "Someone with his talent should normally be arrogant, but Maki is the complete opposite. His understanding of mana, of Imra, and of the sword itself… it's simply on another level." Her words made perfect sense. There are plenty of conceited nobles with far less talent than Maki.

"Look at him now, enjoying himself while fighting." Our eyes shifted to the massive screen in front of us. Maki stood with a confident smile, blocking an enormous hammer strike with his twin swords. He hadn't moved from his spot, while his opponent already looked exhausted.

"It's almost been a minute," I whispered, signaling the pattern. Maki usually ends his matches within a minute. He gives his opponent just enough time to show what they have, and if nothing new appears, he finishes them. Since he still hadn't moved, it meant his opponent must have at least one pseudo law, and Maki was taking the chance to train.

Barely thirty seconds later, the large bald boy in front of him froze in place. Looking closely, the opponent seemed older—seventeen or eighteen, with his shaved head making him look more intimidating. But intimidation means nothing in front of Maki. He must have used his prison to test something. Seconds later, Maki took a step forward and, with a few swift movements of his blades, ended the fight.

"It's ridiculous. No matter how many times I watch, I can never get used to how easy he makes it look," Marga muttered, frustration in her tone though it wasn't envy. She simply wished to reach his level one day. We were still too far, though we hoped the distance might shrink once we ascended ranks. Or maybe it would only grow.

"Yes, he only needs to get a little serious to defeat someone of his rank… or even someone a whole rank above," Sol added, her words full of quiet faith. For her, Maki's strength was security. She trained tirelessly not to surpass him, but simply to stand beside him without becoming a burden.

"We're not weak," I added, trying to ease the mood. "We just shouldn't compare ourselves to him—he's a freak of nature." That little joke worked; all of us burst into laughter. Comparing ourselves to Maki would only demotivate us. Better to see him as a goal, something rare and unique.

Maki returned to the VIP box as soon as possible, his warm smile lighting up his face as we congratulated him. I'd grown used to that humility of his, but seeing the other rising star made me realize again just how extraordinary Maki really is. Someone who doesn't hesitate to help, who saves strangers without asking, who shines like a hero pulled out from a storybook.

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"Hey, Maki, are you human?" I asked half-jokingly. He tilted his head in thought.

"Yes?" His confused answer made me laugh, and the other girls too.

"I'm just teasing. Sometimes you don't seem natural at all. It's like you were created just to make the world brighter, to improve the lives of everyone around you. Your personality draws people in, and you win hearts far too easily." As I said that, a chill ran down my spine. I looked at Sol and Marga, and they caught my meaning. Together, we turned our eyes on him.

"Maki, stop attracting more women into your life. If anyone tries to steal you away, we'll do everything to stop her," Marga said bluntly, already frowning.

"Exactly. If people see you surrounded by more women, gossip will spread, and that could damage your family's reputation," Sol warned with quiet seriousness.

"And once you're in school, you'll be alone for years. You'll need to be extra careful." We already knew Maki was a magnet for women. Strong, confident, kind-hearted, and undeniably handsome—it was inevitable.

We couldn't hope to keep women away from him at school. The best we could do was drill these warnings into his head so he'd avoid them as much as possible. In the end, we were certain he'd marry the three of us—or at least, that's what we believed—but until then, temptation would be everywhere.

We filled his head with reasons why he shouldn't even look at other girls. He seemed to understand, so we quickly changed the subject to keep things light. Soon, Maki left again for his second fight of the day. If he won, he'd be among the top thirty-two.

His poor opponent this time was a girl wielding two swords. That alone made Maki grin ear to ear, and he immediately forged his ice swords. The girl rushed him as soon as the match started, while Maki stood still, waiting for her charge.

She was skilled—her swordsmanship polished and sharp—but it wasn't nearly enough to pressure Maki. His happiness showed in his every move as he effortlessly parried her attacks, reading her body language and blocking with minimal movement.

"She's a noble, isn't she? I think I saw her at your party, Arisa," Sol asked, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"I don't remember her…" Marga rarely remembered nobles unless they left a strong impression or were children of counts or higher.

I narrowed my gaze on the red-haired girl fighting Maki, forcing myself to recall the guest list. At last, I remembered. "You're right, Sol. She's the daughter of a baronet. I don't recall her first name, but her house is Yamul." Her swords were noticeably shorter than Maki's, giving her more agility and speed. Her shadow affinity was rare, and her mana and Imra control were nearly on par with ours.

"She's very skilled," Marga admitted—rare words of praise from her, which proved how much talent the girl had.

"Yes, talented indeed," Sol added, her analytical eyes catching every detail. But moments later, the girl was defeated all the same. No level of skill could compare to Maki.

Watching him, I couldn't help but recall our time lost in that dungeon, when he not only protected us but trained us and ultimately stayed behind to clear it so we could escape. Those memories burned deeply in my heart. Since then, my feelings have only grown stronger. Every moment with him, simple or dangerous, has become a memory I'll treasure forever.

Sol's Point of View

"Only five more matches to go. After today's two, you'll be among the final eight," I reminded him. Maki sat casually in his training clothes, relaxed in his chair as he ate grapes, waiting for the entertainment events to end before the duels began.

"Yes, I just hope today's fights will be as fun as yesterday's," he said, a smile curving across his lips. At this stage, all the contestants had at least one pseudo law, along with decent mastery of mana, Imra, and skills. If any of us three were in his place, our chances of victory would be around sixty percent at best.

"It's a shame for some of them. If you and that arrogant boy weren't here, they'd have much better chances of reaching the finals," Marga commented. She was happy for Maki, but her words were simply a reflection of reality.

"At least everyone who made it to the third stage already gets rewards. And those without affiliations will surely be recruited by groups or companies," Arisa noted.

"I still feel a little guilty. My participation isn't fair to them. Under normal circumstances, Uncle Julio would have given me rewards anyway, but the sudden arrival of the Merno star forced him to let me compete." His voice carried a tinge of honesty, not arrogance.

"By the way, your next opponent beat Ridon yesterday," Arisa added, checking Maki's card. Since this stage was single-elimination, all participants received special cards showing their schedules and brackets.

Maki's eyes widened, and he asked for a name. "We know him… It's Pizz, the baron's son we met the day you arrived at Primaver."

At that, Maki froze, staring straight into my eyes. I sighed, knowing what this meant. That boy had been chasing after me endlessly, ignoring all my rejections.

"Give him a beating. I'm tired of his persistence. He isn't a bad guy, just unbearably stubborn." The others gave me side-eyes, surprised. I usually acted more passive, but my patience was gone.

"Leave it to me." The chill in his voice made the hairs on my arms rise. He wasn't smiling, and his expression was deathly serious. Before I could say more, he stood and walked straight toward the arena.

"Rest in peace, Pizz," Arisa muttered, clasping her hands in mock prayer.

"I never got to know him, and I guess I never will," Marga added with a smirk, mimicking the gesture.

"Don't make me feel worse. Maki's taking this too seriously…" I whispered, already knowing the outcome.

And so it was. For the first time, Maki attacked first. Pizz didn't even have the chance to react before Maki's blades cut through and a storm of lightning rained down, activating the protective enchantments. The fight lasted three seconds.

The three of us stared in silence, glancing between the platform and one another. "I don't even want to imagine Maki truly angry," I murmured.

"At least now you'll stop receiving those annoying letters," Arisa said, though her voice was thoughtful. Any family would retreat once they realized Maki was Susan's student and Julio Timal's favorite.

"Poor boy, he didn't even have time to blink. That unbreakable prison locked him down the instant the fight began," Marga said, amused despite the grim words.

"Let's just not mention this to Maki." We agreed immediately, while Glia simply smirked, curling up comfortably in her seat.

Maki's next opponent lasted twice as long. Surprisingly, he wasn't from a noble house at all—just a normal boy who had clawed his way into the top sixteen through pure talent and effort. His control over wind was nearly on par with Arisa's, and he wielded it cleverly for both attack and defense.

Maki even stayed behind to talk with him afterward. Watching from here, I realized again how far we are in raw power, yet how close we remain in heart. I remembered the little boy I met years ago, now grown into a young man without limits. I only hope to continue watching him grow, walking alongside him, and sharing the rest of my life with him.

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