I can't help but feel a bit nervous right now. I'm already seated in the coliseum next to Cris, Sol, Baron Camux, and our new guard.

Today I decided to get up a bit later than usual—no morning training. I wanted to be in top condition for the tournament.

They've already announced the prizes for each placement. Apparently, the top 320 participants all receive a basic monetary reward: 500 Int, to be exact. It's a pretty impressive prize, considering the average family earns about 1500 Int a month. Once you reach the top 64, you're awarded 2000 Int, a scholarship to the most prestigious academy in the marquisate, and a reformed core that can boost a skill up to Rank III. These prizes are quite significant for people with limited resources. For noble families ranked Baronet or higher, however, the amount of money or the prizes themselves aren't that relevant.

I didn't bother memorizing the rewards for the round of 16, quarterfinals, or semifinals. I only paid attention again when it came to the final.

The prize money jumps to 10,000 Int, a specialized course at the academy with top-tier options, two reinforced stones, one elixir that helps reach the Emerald rank, and a tracking device. I don't know the exact details—they're supposed to announce them on the day of the final.

These rewards truly catch my attention. At one point I was against coming to participate, but over time, my interest has grown. Now I want to make it to the final. It's always fascinated me how your mood shifts in these kinds of crowded, high-energy environments.

"Try to memorize the names on the list. Don't get nervous—none of them are nobles or children of renowned fighters. You shouldn't have much trouble defeating them." The Baron reminds me about the list. I received it from the same receptionist as last time. I take the list and glance over it again. I'm not interested in memorizing the names of people I'll likely never see again—I just want to know who my first opponent is.

"Cubi Timo." I deeply hope from the bottom of my heart that some participant makes this more exciting than it already is. I don't want to get bored halfway through because of overtraining.

I glance to my right and see Sol reading the names over and over again until she gets tired of trying to memorize them. Cris and Camux are munching on some kind of dried fruit, and our new companion is seated one step above us with a serious expression, scanning the crowd.

With not much to do, I activate an ability I haven't used since arriving in Primaver: my pseudo-domain. As I do, I feel the information flood into my mind all at once—every person walking nearby, all their movements, their actions. The wave of input makes me feel slightly dizzy, so I activate my Glacier Focus to ease the strain.

I was afraid of overloading my brain with too much data. The same thing happened at my village's fair, which is why I've only activated it now. I feel more confident thanks to my new mental ability.

I keep both abilities active to start adjusting to this chaotic environment. As my brain slowly adapts to the situation, I receive something unexpected.

I've gained a level in my pseudo-domain. Was it the effort that made me level up? Is overloading the ability the key to advancing it?

With many questions and few answers—yet feeling happy about the level gain—I keep the ability running, hoping to level up again soon.

"Participant #1636 and #1201, proceed to Training Field 26 for your match."

Is it already my turn? I rise from my seat, cheered on by the three nobles. I thank them with a big smile and make a peace sign with my fingers in a victory pose before heading alone toward Field 26.

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When I arrive, I see another boy waiting at the entrance. He's wearing white shorts and a T-shirt, black sneakers, and holding a sword—longer and thicker than my twin blades individually. I'm wearing a black and red uniform, very practical for movement. The Baron gave it to me for my first tournament.

I can see the other fields in full action. Every field has ongoing fights—none are empty. When one fight ends, another pair steps in immediately. It must be difficult to manage, considering how many battles take place in these early stages. Now I understand why such a large area is needed for the tournament.

The referee calls us to the center of the field after a fight ends. As he quickly explains the rules, I draw my twin swords from my storage. Cubi listens carefully to the instructions. As the referee finishes speaking, he steps aside and signals the start of the match.

Cubi doesn't hold back—he charges at me with sword in hand, using a movement skill to get closer. But compared to my speed and with my domain ability active, I can clearly follow his movements.

He starts with a wide frontal slash, aiming to cut me from head to toe. I block it with my right sword and continue exchanging blows with him for a while. His technique isn't bad for a ten-year-old. His wide slashes actually target my unguarded spots.

I'm only testing his ability. I haven't attacked yet. After getting used to his rhythm, I begin dodging with small steps or body movements. It's time to practice my pseudo-domain. After about a minute, he activates a skill in his hand—his sword bursts into flames, like Cris's fists—and he starts slashing faster.

I study him for 30 more seconds and can already estimate his score. My measuring stick is Cris, who's a 20. Cubi scores a 12—he passes, but he's no threat to me.

I infuse a bit of Imra into my sword. I use one of his wide swings to my advantage. As he strikes from right to left, I slightly pull my body back at the last second. With my left sword, I give his blade extra momentum from behind. Cubi ends up off-balance, and I take the chance to land two slashes—one on his abdomen and another on his leg.

The kid nearly drops his sword from the pain. According to the referee, the pain felt is only 10% of what it would normally be, which is probably why he can still hold on to his weapon.

With his score already decided, I end it. I start attacking instead of just defending. After landing six normal hits and one deep cut to his arm, the match ends.

His collar glows purple, and a layer of mana envelops him. The referee approaches, asks us for our collars, and declares me the winner. He pulls out a notebook with a screen—I can see him selecting our match, declaring me the winner, and noting the time.

Cubi and I give each other a small bow and start walking off. I can hear quiet sounds like someone trying not to cry. I don't look back and keep walking. Take this loss as fuel, Cubi. You've got the skills to move on to the next stage.

While we fought, I observed other matches. Cubi ranks above most of the kids. If he focuses, he could advance fairly easily.

My next two matches were simpler: one against a small ice mage who used spike-like projectiles while running side to side to avoid being caught—he earned a score of 9. The other was a girl who used daggers like an assassin. Her attacks were fast, strong, and precise. Her only problem was her opponent—me. I noticed a change in her eyes. When she realized she couldn't win, she stopped fighting seriously. She never even used magic. She earned an 11 because she held back.

And so, the first day ended with three consecutive victories. We're all heading home to celebrate, happy because Sol also won her three matches.

I saw how much her arrow control has improved—she can guide them and even regenerate one if it breaks. Three sharp projectiles flying at you is not a pleasant sight. She also uses a movement technique similar to the ice mage boy, dodging side to side and using her mobility skill when cornered.

She nearly lost one match due to mana exhaustion, but landed a precise hit when her opponent was running out of stamina. In the end, we both won our matches.

I can see the carriage approaching the house. At the entrance, the Baron greets us.

"I just got here too. Judging by your smiles, I can tell how it went! Tell me everything! Don't leave out a single detail."

We head to a little table in the garden, where the house staff is bringing out the food.

Sol starts recounting her three victories and describes her fights in detail, with animated movements. I give a simpler summary of my matches and then share my impressions of my opponents.

The Baron is thrilled with our victories—so much that he pulls out two beers from his storage bracelet to celebrate on his own.

We enjoy a lovely dinner under the moonlight while Uncle Camux complains about how boring it is to go around talking to other nobles. He'd rather watch how our matches are going.

We finish dinner, chat a bit more about what might happen tomorrow, and then head off to bed.

Tomorrow will be another exhausting day for everyone. Second day of the tournament, here I come! I won't lose a single match in the top 10!

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