A sense of tranquility pervaded the building. The source was, of course, the man who had just entered.

“What the fu—ugh.” Estra managed to choke down his accidental outburst.

The new man was incredibly handsome: tall and proud—over 180cm—and very lean; clear, flawless, almost divine facial features, unlike oneself1. Even his eyes seemed to exude a magnetizing aura.

At the very least, his appearance lived up to every rumor Estra had heard. In fact, the rumors might not do him justice.

“Is that… Joshua Sanders?” Sonna mumbled. As princess of the Kingdom of Terra, she had met all of the allegedly gorgeous nobility. But this man was like nothing she’d ever seen.

Babel watched calmly as Joshua walked past him without sparing a glance at their table.

Often, people called Babel the first rising star, despite Joshua’s singular talent. On top of that, they shared the same blood.

“Joshua von Agnus…” Babel sighed. It’d been several years since his brother had left the family.

I don’t feel any joy. Joshua was no longer truly an Agnus. There was no connection between the Duke’s sons anymore.

He’d never considered Joshua a brother in the first place.

Jealousy? The same. Babel would be lying if he said there was none, but the immature emotions of his childhood had long faded. In fact, Babel found that the sight was quite interesting.

Yet it only made him feel more intense. The class divide between Babel and the person he once called his brother was higher than the towering fortifications of the Imperial palace of Avalon. Even looking was forbidden.

I know… I admit it. Joshua von Agnus—no, Joshua Sanders—was not the same person. Even in a room filled with the powerful, Joshua bowed to no one.

“Hooh…” Babel slowly inhaled and exhaled. Somewhat more relaxed, he lifted his eyes again.

“You’re late,” Akshuler said.

“I saw you pass by me.” Joshua walked right up to Akshuler, who was seated directly in front of the podium.

“The main character is always late, eh?” Akshuler laughed boisterously.

“You can have it back.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Akshuler shook his head. “If you play the Master Battle with eloquence, you would definitely win.”

“…Even if you’re not limited to words, the outcome won’t change.”

Akshuler’s eyes widened.

“Pretentious,” someone said.

Joshua’s head swiveled, scanning the area to find the speaker.

A conversation between the great Akshuler and Joshua, the most talked-about person of the time, was of interest to everyone. Aside from their popularity, both Akshuler and Joshua were formidable combatants. The apparent connection between the mercenary and a scion of the most prominent noble house in Avalon was something everyone was thinking about.

Only Master Battle competitors and their accompanying officials were seated in the tables closest to the podium. In other words, the only people who could hear them were the truly powerful.

“Good,” Joshua whispered, and grinned.

The onlookers’ eyes widened. Confidence and arrogance were two sides of the same coin—how were they to interpret the actions of this brash child.

“Fighting the powerful is always fun.” Joshua’s grin stretched as he whispered.

Obviously, Joshua was just expressing his feelings, but the intensity was making Akshuler’s skin tingle. These were people whose names were known far and wide he was talking about.

“Joshua Sanders…” A pair of red eyes flashed as they beheld Joshua. “That’s a familiar name…” Ulabis cocked his head, trying to pin down the unfamiliar sensation. Ever since Joshua had walked in, Ulabis hadn’t been able to take his eyes off him. He made Ulabis’s nerves itch, a feeling he’d never felt before.

The Master of Ceremonies scrambled to salvage the odd atmosphere. “All right: now that it’s time, let’s begin by describing the matching method before the drawing. If any parties have not yet arrived, please provide the official’s explanations and the results of the drawing to them. If I could please have your attention for a minute, parties and representatives.”

The audience’s gaze slowly left Joshua.

“Inside this wooden box are numbered glass beads. There are exactly 21 marbles, matching the number of participants. Each participant’s fights will be determined by the following table.” The Master of Ceremonies gestured to a huge board on the podium. The board displayed a traditional tournament bracket, similar to last year’s Master Battle. However, the odd number of competitors meant that one person would be given a bye.

“As you know, the outcome of your matches has no bearing on qualifying for becoming a Master. If three or more of the six current Masters agree, the participant will immediately be deemed a Master, even in the middle of a match. For the sake of fairness, three Imperial Masters, and three non-Imperial Masters will be judging this Battle. Any questions?”

Someone immediately raised their hand.

“I’m Akshuler.”

“I’ve heard of you.”

Akshuler nodded. “Continuing with the Battle is up to the individual participants, yes? Just like last year.”

“Just as you said.”

“Then… winning the Battle has the same reward.”

“If you are talking about challenging the Twelve Superhumans and Nine Stars, then absolutely.”

The crowd stirred—especially those from the three great powers.

The Twelve Superhumans and Nine Stars were the only known entities superior to a Master. Any one of them could shake the continent. From a different point of view, they were people with more power than kings.

Only someone who had been a Master for at least a decade could challenge them—and if you lost, you had to wait for another decade without losing your Master title. The only exception was the champion of the Master Battle.

However, this wasn’t the only reason the Imperials were so excited.

“Additionally, the victor of this Master Battle will become the owner of the Nagasin Hammer.”

The audience visibly shook.

Reinhardt was neutral ground. It was the heart of the continent and an economic powerhouse that put any other city to shame, among other desirable traits.

Generations upon generations of monarchs had coveted Reinhardt, but Reinhardt could not be acquired in any sort of normal way.

“So the winner of the Master Battle will… become the owner of Reinhardt,” Ulabis mumbled. “Such is the will of Nagasin, the first ruler of Reinhardt.”

The Lordship of Reinhard did not actually confer much influence upon the city itself—as a symbol of peace, it could not be restricted to a single nation. Nevertheless, it was symbolically significant. The 10% cut of Reinhardt’s astronomical tax revenue was just a bonus.

“It’s been a long wait, so let’s begin the drawing immediately. Simply draw a marble and hand it to our magician.”

The magician waiting in the corner bowed his head.

“This is the Master Battle, an honor and a celebration. Thus, to add a little suspense, we will withhold the schedule until after all the marbles have been drawn. Of course, you need not worry about cheating. Everyone here will be able to see the marbles with their own eyes.”

When the Master of Ceremonies finished his speech, the chamber was gripped by a short silence. The participants began to make their way to the podium—from Prince Ulabis, relaxed and smiling, to Akshuler, whose expression was tight. Finally, Joshua expressionlessly drew his bead and everyone moved to examine their marbles.

“Well then. I shall announce the results of the draw now.”

With a loud “Paat!”, words appeared beside the numbers on the board.

“Oh my god—!”

  1. TL/N: What an underhanded joke right there author. ED/N: I have a feeling that’s supposed to refer to Estra, but it’s funny so it stays. ️

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