"Correction — he destabilized the arena's mana field," Caria finished, adjusting her glasses with a sigh.

Aria crossed her arms with a grin. "Oh, come on, that's just another way of saying awesome explosion."

Puddle jumped onto Rhys's shoulder, puffing her cheeks. "Arena go boom! Master win!"

Sophia exhaled quietly from her corner. "At least no one was hurt this time."

Lyra gave a small smile. "Barely."

Rhys just shook his head and set his sword down carefully. The crimson glow from Ruinous Darkness had finally dimmed, but its faint pulse still resonated through the air like a heartbeat refusing to fade.

"Let's head to the audience stands," Caria suggested, closing her notebook. "The other qualifiers are still going. It would be useful to observe potential opponents."

Later – Crescent Arena Grand Stands

The team found seats among the crowd, overlooking the circular platform below. The atmosphere was intense — cheers, roars, and magical bursts lighting up the open sky. Each battle painted streaks of color across the air: gold flames, azure lightning, emerald wind blades.

Puddle leaned on the railing, eyes wide. "So many swords! So shiny!"

Aria laughed. "Right?! Look at that guy — dual-wielding flame sabers!"

Sophia, watching closely, murmured, "He's overextending his mana. Won't last long."

Caria scribbled notes rapidly. "Confirmed. Mana control efficiency, sixty percent at best. Likely to burn out before mid-round."

Lyra's gaze drifted toward the center ring, where two advanced players clashed in rapid bursts of sound. "Still… some of them are impressive. Moon Island always draws the strongest swordsmen from every region."

Rhys leaned back, arms crossed, eyes steady. "That's what makes it worth coming here."

On the arena below, one fighter executed a lightning-fast sequence — "Sword Dance: Crescent Bloom!" — sending a shockwave of petal-shaped energy across the platform. The opponent barely managed to block. The crowd roared.

"Whoa…" Aria breathed. "Now that's flashy!"

"Flashy," Caria echoed, "but inefficient. Each swing bleeds mana like a sieve."

Sophia gave her a sidelong glance. "You're enjoying this analysis a bit too much."

Caria smirked faintly. "Preparation prevents surprises."

As more matches unfolded, Rhys stayed quiet, observing each duel intently. His focus wasn't just on the fighters — it was on their flow, timing, how they handled the pressure of the crowd. His fingers occasionally brushed the sheath of Ruinous Darkness, feeling the faint vibration within.

The sword wasn't asleep. It was watching too.

Lyra noticed his silence. "You're studying them," she said softly.

Rhys nodded. "Everyone here fights differently. I want to see which styles push their weapons past the limit."

"Because you're thinking about the spirit again," she guessed.

"…Yeah."

Lyra's eyes softened. "You won't rush it. The blade will awaken when the bond demands it — not before."

He gave a faint smile. "Then I'll make sure I'm ready when it does."

Hours passed as one match after another ended — explosions, sword clashes, elemental bursts lighting the arena like fireworks. The qualifiers were slowly narrowing down.

Finally, the loudspeaker rune flared again:

"Preliminary Round Two will resume tomorrow morning."

Caria stood, closing her notes. "That's our cue to rest."

Aria stretched with a loud yawn. "Ugh, fine! But tomorrow, I'm betting on you making it to the top eight!"

Puddle jumped down from the railing, tail wagging. "Master win again tomorrow! Then sword be happy!"

Sophia smiled faintly. "Let's hope the arena stays in one piece this time."

As they turned to leave, Rhys glanced one last time at the battlefield below — cracked stone, fading mana trails, and the faint shimmer of moonlight settling over everything.

Tomorrow, the fights would get harder.

And deeper inside, Ruinous Darkness pulsed once more — steady, eager.

The next morning arrived with the sound of practice duels echoing through the island. Moonlight faded into a bright, golden dawn that spread across Moon Island's crescent rooftops and open arenas.

Rhys woke early, his body already alert despite the long day before. He sat cross-legged by the window of their inn, eyes closed, feeling the faint vibration of mana running through the sword beside him.

Ruinous Darkness pulsed once — quiet, almost like acknowledgment.

"Good," he murmured. "Stay calm today."

Puddle, still half asleep on the bed, yawned and flopped onto her back. "Masteeer… morning already?"

"Yeah," Rhys said with a faint smile. "We've got time. My match isn't until the afternoon."

Aria burst into the room moments later, brushing her hair and already fully armored. "Rise and shine! Breakfast's ready downstairs — and the morning qualifiers have started! Let's go watch!"

Sophia followed behind her, calm as ever. "You should eat first," she advised Rhys. "Then observe the other rounds. The top-ranked players usually appear early."

Lyra tied her cloak and glanced toward the window. "Good plan. We can gauge potential opponents before his match."

Caria adjusted her glasses, notebook already in hand. "And document them, of course."

Rhys stood, slinging his sword over his back. "Alright then. Let's go."

Crescent Arena – Morning Matches

The stands were packed again, even more than yesterday. The roar of the crowd rolled like thunder as duels unfolded one after another.

On the main platform, two swordmasters were locked in a high-speed exchange — fire and wind clashing in blinding arcs.

"Skill Activation — Blazing Arc!"

"Counter Skill — Wind Step!"

Sparks burst through the air, scattering across the stone floor as the fighters weaved around each other in midair.

Aria leaned forward, eyes wide. "Okay, that's crazy. He's literally fighting mid-jump!"

Sophia analyzed quietly. "His movement is unorthodox, but his stance breaks balance after three strikes. Watch — there."

Just as she predicted, the fire swordsman overextended, stumbling as his mana flickered. The wind user dashed in, ending the match with a swift upward slash.

"Victory to contestant Veyra!" the announcer declared.

Caria scribbled furiously in her notes. "Veyra, wind attribute, speed-based duelist. Noted."

Lyra leaned back slightly, gaze still on the field. "He's fast, but not stable. Against Rhys's control, he'd fall apart."

Rhys didn't reply — his attention was on the mana flows around the arena. Every swing, every explosion, left faint trails he could feel through his connection to Ruinous Darkness. The sword seemed to hum faintly, almost curious.

"Analyzing?" Lyra asked softly.

"Yeah," he said. "Each fighter shapes mana differently. I want to see who can actually control it… not just throw it around."

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