Sword Saint's Reincarnation-Chapter 72: Tournament (7)

Rylan watched the crimson-haired judge’s gait with appreciation. From that alone, he could tell that she had worked on improving her sense of balance.

And, well, she’s also pretty hot.

Her proportions were perfect, making her very pleasing to the eye. In his mind, he automatically compared her to Alfira and Sarah. Alfira was definitely the most beautiful one, but Sarah didn’t really lose out by much compared to the other two women. Rylan rubbed his chin with a pensive expression.

After a few seconds, the crimson-haired woman reached them. One of the judges rushed to Isaac’s side and started chanting. A green light soon washed over him, mending his wounds in real time. Rylan watched the process with interest. Wherever the green light flowed, flesh crawled over itself and closed the injuries as blood vessels were reconnected, stopping the bleeding. Muscle and skin healed quickly.

The crowd in the stands talked with hushed tones, some louder than others. Rylan could feel their stares.

The moment Isaac’s injuries disappeared and he could stand again, the woman slammed the bottom of her staff on the ground. The arena went silent in nothing but a few seconds.

“When I was invited here,” the woman began to speak. Her voice was clear and firm, but it matched her appearance in an odd way. It was strangely melodic. “I was told there would be an interesting fight. That the Hutchdal house’s only son would show me what real talent was.”

Isaac lowered his head again. She looked at him.

“Isaac Hutchdal. You fought well. You tried to change your strategy once you realized it wasn’t working, you cast your spells quickly and effectively and displayed admirable mastery. Your knowledge of multiple Third Circle spells is a powerful weapon,” she continued. Isaac raised his gaze and looked into her eyes. Rylan could see the myriad emotions the boy was feeling. “In the future, you will become one of the greatest Mages in the kingdom. I hope this battle showed you what you’re lacking.”

Isaac gritted his teeth.

“I won’t lose again,” he snapped as he turned to Rylan. His eyes burned with competitiveness. “Next time, I’ll beat you!”

Rylan smiled. He felt like an old man watching a child’s antics.

“The first thing you need to get rid of is your arrogance. What’s the point in underestimating an enemy, especially one you know nothing about? If you stay like this, you’ll die early, Isaac,” he replied.

“You don’t get to lecture me!”

“I won. You lost. In your eyes, doesn’t that mean I’m better? Listen to me or pay the price later on,” Rylan said, shrugging.

“Next time I—”

“He’s right. Never think little of your opponent, no matter how much you think you’re above them,” the crimson-haired judge suddenly intervened, looking straight at Isaac. The boy’s words died in his throat as he frowned.

Finally, the woman looked at Rylan. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. The people in the stands leaned forward.

“Rylan Flameheart,” she said his name as if it were an incantation, equal parts wonder and curiosity. “Eighteen years old. Second Circle. A boy who should have failed before even reaching this battle.”

Rylan raised an eyebrow.

“What are you trying to say?” he asked.

She didn’t reply, only looking at him up and down. Suddenly, she smiled. It was as if she was the only flower in a barren wasteland. Even the sunlight paled in comparison to the brightness of her smile. Rylan blinked.

“I’ll be waiting to evaluate you in the finals. Just know that you aren’t the only genius in this tournament. Maybe you’ll need to draw your sword, after all, swordsman,” she said, traces of mirth dancing in her eyes.

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Oh?

Rylan narrowed his eyes. Even after seeing him fight personally, she had said that, even as she acknowledged that he would get to the finals. Anticipation bubbled within him. Didn’t this mean there was a contestant who would be able to push him to his limits? He smiled at the thought, curious about the upper limit of his magical ability.

Every time I fought Father, I lost.

Without his swordsmanship, Rylan had been continuously defeated by Gerard. His old man had shown why he was a renowned battlemage. Roland’s memories had assisted him, but Rylan had still been unable to cross the gap between himself and an experienced Fifth Circle Mage. At least, when it came to magic alone. Now, there was a possibility that someone in the tournament would be able to present a comparable challenge, even if they weren’t at the Fifth Circle.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said while smiling. “What is your name, professor?”

She looked at him for a few seconds.

“Alice. Alice Carmesim,” she replied with a grin, then slammed the black staff on the ruined floor. “This battle is over. Rylan Flameheart, your next fight is in two days. Isaac Hutchdal, yours is tomorrow. Recover and rest. That is all.”

None of the other judges said anything. They only stood behind Alice, nodding. It was obvious who was in control. With a slight bow, Rylan turned around as the announcer spoke loudly.

“Everyone, this place’s next fight will take place in an hour!”

Rylan glanced at the System windows floating in the air.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

[Intelligence has increased by 1.]

[Body has increased by 1.]

He grinned. Part of the crowd stood up and walked toward the exit, while the rest remained seated. A few people ran to the very first row and yelled.

“Rylan! Look over here! Do you really think you can reach the finals?”

“Please teach me! I’ll pay you!”

“You’re a great Mage! I’ll watch all of your matches from now on!”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Rylan couldn’t help but laugh at the last question. With his head held high, he entered the corridor that led to the exit. It was the first time that others had acknowledged ‘Rylan’ as anything other than a wastrel. He was proud of how far he had come, but that was it; letting his pride turn into arrogance would only make him the same as Isaac.

Once he left the corridor, he faced a group of people. They looked at him with shining eyes, all smiles, and started speaking all at once. Rylan let out a small sigh but tried to engage with everyone.

It was the first time people had shown him that expression.

***

With gritted teeth, Regis crumpled up the newspaper in his hands. Tongues of fire erupted out of them, wrapping around the paper and burning it to ashes. Lillia stood silently to his right.

He looked around, trying to calm his racing heart. Large tables surrounded by plush chairs and tall bookshelves filled to the brim. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, burning with magic fire, illuminating the library alongside the drifting particles of light. The library was expansive and carried a regal air; every piece of furniture was pristine. The red carpets complemented the unusual, curved shape of the wooden bookshelves.

Usually, the sight of the Academy’s libraries: which were all unique and different from the others: calmed him down. Right now, however, they didn’t do anything to placate his racing heart. Abruptly, Regis snapped his head to the left, looking straight at Liam. Behind him was a blond, blue-eyed girl. Jasmine.

“…Are you certain?” Regis asked, carefully enunciating each word.

Liam nodded with a furrowed brow.

“You read the paper. I asked around. It’s true, dude. You need to accept it.”

“Accept it?” Lillia suddenly said, her voice brimming with outrage. “Isaac was one of the strongest contenders for the semifinals or finals. And we’re supposed to believe that piece of shit beat him?”

Regis stared at the floor with a shaking gaze.

“I don’t know what to tell you. It’s the truth,” Liam said tentatively.

Regis glanced at his sister. She clenched her jaw with red eyes, clearly about to blow. He wasn’t in any mood to calm her down; his emotions were in similar turmoil. He looked at Jasmine, who stood silently behind Liam, fidgeting in place.

“He beat you at swordsmanship,” Regis stated.

Jasmine simply nodded.

“He did. Your brother is the best swordsman I ever sparred against,” she replied, her expression becoming more stable.

The group went silent. After almost fifteen seconds, Regis looked at his sister with red eyes. She met his gaze, making him realize once again that they were feeling the same emotions.

“Lillia,” he started in a tone filled with bitterness. Helplessness flooded his spirit. “Is that bastard a genius? Are the heavens truly so unfair?”

Lillia gritted her teeth and clenched her fists.

No matter how much he thought about it, it was an incomprehensible situation. Rylan had gone from a wastrel to being able to defeat one of the strongest applicants in the tournament. It was impossible, but it seemed to be real all the same.

“…We need to talk to him. Now,” Lillia said, looking at the library’s entrance. Regis nodded.

“I’ll find out where he is,” Liam quickly said. “Jasmine will help me. Please, just wait a bit more. Let’s go, Jas.”

Nodding, the brother and sister duo left Regis and Lillia alone. In the middle of the library that he loved, Regis felt like he had been slapped in the face, completely blindsided.

Neither of them said anything for a long time.