"Against the Heavens: The Villain's Return"

The blazing sun cast its golden hue across the arena floor, warming the stone tiles and igniting the tension in the hearts of the gathered crowd. Excitement buzzed in the air.

Then—

The announcer's voice echoed powerfully,

"The first match—Rio Bladecrest versus Ryun of Redstone Village!"

A wave of anticipation swept over the crowd.

From one end of the arena, Rio Bladecrest stepped forward.

His deep red and silver combat uniform bore the flaming sword crest of his family, swaying lightly in the wind.

His eyes were calm, confident, but serious. He held his sword firmly, his footsteps light yet steady—like someone who had walked countless times into battle.

From the other side, his opponent emerged—Ryun, a simple-looking but firm young man, lean and sunburnt. His uniform was clearly worn out, and his sword had visible marks on its blade.

Yet there was a determined light in his eyes. He stood proud, despite the pressure. He was the first-ever student from his small Redstone Village to enter the academy.

The moment was heavy with meaning.

The signal to begin was given.

Ryun charged in first, filled with courage. His sword movements were unpolished, but there was a raw passion behind every strike. He roared as he swung his blade downward with both hands.

But Rio was calm.

He weaved through the attack smoothly. His sword style was precise, clean, like flowing water through stone. His parries and footwork showed deep foundation and training—something refined over years.

He didn't strike back immediately.

He allowed Ryun to attack multiple times, showcasing his style, letting the boy's sword dance a little longer under the arena's spotlight.

It was a moment of silent respect.

Finally, with a small flick of his wrist, Rio disarmed Ryun.

His blade lightly tapped Ryun's shoulder, signifying defeat.

Ryun dropped to his knees, panting heavily. He looked at his hands, clenched tightly around nothing, and his body trembled—not from pain, but from the emotion that swelled within him.

Just then, Rio extended his hand toward him.

"Stand up," he said gently.

Ryun looked up at him, eyes wide and glimmering.

"You… You let me show my skills… Even though you could have ended it from the beginning…"

Tears welled up in Ryun's eyes.

"You don't know what this means to me… Thank you… thank you for giving me a chance to prove that even someone from a small village can fight with dignity…"

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

And then—thunderous applause erupted.

It wasn't a battle of flashy techniques or intense rivalry—but it was a battle of character, and Rio had won both on and off the stage.

Both fighters left the stage side by side, Ryun wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

The announcer raised his voice once again.

"The winner of the first match: Rio Bladecrest!"

From the audience section, Roxanne jumped up from her seat, her smile beaming proudly.

"Rio, brother! Good job!!" she shouted, lifting her thumb high in the air with childlike excitement.

Rio turned his head back for a second and saw her cheering.

He smiled.

'Still behaving like a child, huh…'

He shook his head softly, but his heart warmed.

'But I like it. It feels… familiar. It feels like family.'

In the Bladecrest family seating area, Rio's father stood tall, arms folded, a visible hint of pride on his usually stoic face. His son had not only shown skill, but compassion—a virtue many cultivators neglected.

---

Above them, in the highest section of the arena where the VIPs sat, Henry adjusted his glasses and nodded thoughtfully.

"Such behavior…" he murmured. "To respect your opponent, to give them dignity—even in victory… It is rare to see."

He turned to the side and addressed Maximus, who sat observing with his usual calm demeanor.

"What do you think of this one, Sir Maximus?"

Maximus didn't respond immediately. He watched Rio closely, his golden eyes still fixed on the boy's departing back.

Finally, he spoke.

"His sword skills are polished," Maximus said. "Clearly trained from early childhood. The flow of his footwork and grip control speaks of years of discipline. His temperament is admirable. Giving his opponent a chance to showcase his efforts shows maturity and empathy."

Henry smiled, hopeful.

But then Maximus added, "…Still, he's lacking something."

Henry blinked. "Lacking?"

Maximus crossed his arms, still not looking away.

"Resolve… the kind that makes you burn even when standing still. Perhaps we'll see it later. For now, let's watch a little longer and decide."

Henry nodded. "Yes. It's only the first round."

---

The tournament continued. Names were called. Swords clashed. Some students triumphed with grace, while others fell despite their arrogance. Each battle was a stepping stone for what was to come.

Then—

A new name rang through the air.

"Roxanne Bladecrest versus Trog the Iron Ox!"

The stadium stirred.

Trog emerged from the gate—a massive boy, tall and broad, his muscles bulging beneath a sleeveless shirt. His skin was tough and scarred from intense training. He carried no sword. Instead, his fists were wrapped tightly, and his body language screamed brute force.

He looked like a giant bull, ready to charge.

In the waiting area, Rio gave a thumbs-up to Roxanne, his tone filled with sibling cheer.

"Go get him! Do your best!"

Roxanne nodded confidently.

Today, she was determined to shine.

As she walked into the arena, she tied her long hair into a high ponytail. The movement was simple, but it gave her a new charm. Her sapphire combat uniform shimmered under the sunlight, and even the crowd seemed to quiet down for a moment just to admire her.

She scanned the arena.

But her eyes weren't on her opponent.

They were on the crowd.

She was looking for Leo.

Her cheeks puffed again in dissatisfaction when she realized—he still hadn't arrived.

"Hmph!" she muttered softly.

Then she turned toward her opponent.

Trog snorted like a bull and slammed his fists together. His body tensed, and he rushed forward with incredible speed, despite his size.

But Roxanne was already moving.

She ducked under his charge with stunning agility, spinning on her heel and launching a quick sword strike at his knee.

Trog stumbled.

He turned and threw a punch.

She dodged it again, twisting mid-air and landing behind him gracefully. Her movements were like wind and water, her body almost dancing between his attacks. Her flexibility was astonishing. Her sword moved in elegant arcs—sharp, precise, but never wasteful.

She struck him on the shoulder with the flat of her blade.

The signal was clear.

She had won.

Maximus, watching from above, nodded slowly.

"That girl… very flexible," he said, almost to himself. "A swordsman should be able to bend without breaking. Her footwork and movement are impressive."

His interest deepened.

He leaned forward slightly, anticipation rising.

'The next few matches… will be more interesting.'

---

The announcer's voice echoed again.

"Selena Luxveil versus Korg of Hammerhill!"

Heads turned.

Some whispered in excitement. Others, in confusion.

Selena Luxveil's reputation preceded her—being from the Skydawn Family and personally associated with Leo had already earned her attention.

But when Korg, her opponent, walked onto the stage…

The arena was stunned.

Korg was short. Very short. And stout.

He wore thick metal-plated boots and carried two weapons—a large hammer and a round iron shield strapped to his back.

The announcer blinked twice while reading his details.

But Korg? He stood tall (as tall as he could), beaming with pride. With a loud voice, he announced:

"I am Korg of Hammerhill Village! My family are blacksmiths, and I came here to promote our handmade weapons! Affordable! Reliable! Forged with spirit flame!"

For a moment… silence.

Then—

The crowd burst into laughter.

Even the judges looked amused.

Maximus, who hadn't cracked a smile the entire day, chuckled lightly.

"Well, that's refreshing," he said, folding his arms. "It's rare to see someone fight to promote his family's shop. Honest work."

Beside him, Henry actually smiled.

"Feels like a breather from the serious matches," he said with a nod. "It's oddly comforting."

But down in the arena—

Selena Luxveil was fuming.

Her eyes narrowed.

Her beautiful combat dress, her graceful aura, and awakened Fairy Physique—all of it prepared for a dramatic entry into the competition—and she was matched with this?

'My first battle… and it's just a promotion stunt?!'

Selena's hands clenched at her sides.

In the stands, Roxanne shouted from her seat, her voice filled with mischief.

"Hey Selena! Make sure to help promote his shop after the match! Maybe you can model for his hammer line too!"

The crowd laughed even louder.

Selena's eyes twitched.

Her cheeks flushed—not from embarrassment, but frustration.

She walked toward the center of the stage with calm but sharp steps, her fists clenched. Her opponent waved at the crowd again, showing off his hammer and shield, and shouted, "Visit Hammerhill! Tell them Korg sent you!"

Selena didn't wait.

With one burst of speed, she dashed toward Korg. Her fist flew like a meteor.

Boom!

One punch. A clean strike.

Korg flew off his feet and landed flat on his back, hammer and shield clanging uselessly on the stone floor.

Silence fell for a moment.

Then… wild applause.

It wasn't for the battle—but for the sheer comedy and contrast between the two.

Selena walked off the arena without sparing her opponent a second glance.

But her anger hadn't faded.

She returned to the contestant waiting zone and dropped into her seat with a sigh, arms crossed tightly, lips pursed in irritation.

Above her, Roxanne stood from her seat, cupped her hands, and shouted again with a grin:

"Selena! Don't forget to ask for a blacksmith discount! Maybe he'll make you a heart-shaped shield!"

Selena's head twitched. She turned slowly.

"Roxanne…" she muttered.

Roxanne giggled and skipped over, sitting beside her.

She looked so happy it was annoying.

"Don't be mad! You did great, though! What a punch! But really… heart-shaped hammer sounds cute, right?"

Selena shot her a glare.

"You're doing this on purpose."

"Oh, who me?" Roxanne blinked innocently. "Nooo…"

Their playful bickering drew attention.

Not just from nearby students, but from the crowd too.

Up in the Bladecrest family section, Rio, who had been relaxing, decided to step in.

He approached cautiously.

"Uh… maybe you two should calm down a little," he said, scratching his cheek.

But the moment his voice entered their conversation—

Both Selena and Roxanne turned their heads sharply toward him.

Their voices overlapped:

"Shut up, Rio!!"

Rio froze, eyes wide.

He held his hands up in surrender.

'Why me?!'

The audience nearby burst into laughter again.

Some students couldn't believe what they were seeing. Two of the most beautiful and powerful girls in the academy were fighting like children, and Rio was the poor soul who tried to stop them—only to get caught in the storm.

Maximus, still observing from the top, raised an eyebrow.

"These girls… they've got spirit."

Henry chuckled. "Seems the competition is more than just sword and spirit—it's turning into comedy too."

Maximus smiled faintly but didn't reply.

Inside, he was growing more and more curious.

'Where is Leo…?'

The matches had barely scratched the surface, but already, the stage was heating up. Talent, pride, rivalry, and teasing laughter filled the arena.

And yet—

Everyone knew the true storm hadn't started yet.

Because the one person everyone was waiting for...

Still hadn't arrived.

---

Chapter ends

---

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