After finishing a light meal, I stood absentmindedly in front of a painting in the hallway.

The painting in the frame was of nearly withered sunflowers.

Since I didn’t have any particular eye for art, it served more as eye candy to accompany my thoughts than something to admire.

“Ancient letters written in the special-type grimoire. And the bloodline…”

If I were to connect it to what I had a gut feeling about, it would probably have some relation to Dordon, the whale spirit king I once fought.

This is something revealed later in the story, but Dordon had created a haven deep within the Demonic Realm for ancient surviving races, all for the sake of past prosperity.

And oddly enough, there were also humans within that haven.

Of course, the Demonic Realm is overflowing with humans, so it wouldn’t have included ordinary ones.

There must’ve been something special about them for that to be the case.

If the other race Carmelo mentioned refers to those humans, then their uniqueness could possibly be related to a rare special-type talent possessed by a tiny minority.

In that case, the answer lies with my half-sister, Niasel.

If the first awakened sense for Niasel, who has been learning magic for over a year, was taste, then the cause would be from the Aol bloodline.

If not, then it would be from Hersel’s mother, Lisean’s side.

Still, it was no more than a guess…

Not long after I took my eyes off the painting, I arrived at the waiting room.

No one was in sight, maybe they were all off doing something else outside.

I settled into the sofa, taking the chance to continue thinking leisurely.

‘Donatan, do you have any guesses about the race Carmelo mentioned? You’ve lived a long time, so you might know.’

‘Unless they have very distinct physical traits, I wouldn’t know. I never really paid that much attention to humans.’

Hmph, as expected, useless.

I sank into the sofa as I listened to the ticking of the clock.

Even if I tried to figure it out now, no answers would come, so I decided to focus on the spar.

But maybe because I felt confident I could beat Ever Blaze with ease?

Only the useless parts of my conversation with Carmelo kept surfacing in my mind.

Perhaps because, even though it was a topic I should’ve just dismissed lightly, something about it felt suspicious.

—”What brings you here?”

—”The Great Mage is also attending, so there’s nothing strange about me being here, is there?”

Nothing about that sounds particularly odd.

After all, the organization hosting the Aizen Arena is the Magic Tower.

It’s natural for the Great Mage, their representative, to show up, and it’s common for them to bring along a few aides.

Still, the reason I felt uneasy was because I couldn’t figure out what business Carmelo had come for.

Even when the mages of the tower cast group magic during the opening ceremony, Carmelo wasn’t there.

And although he had a private office assigned, there weren’t even any documents on the desk.

If it wasn’t external duties, then it had to be something internal, like a meeting.

If so, there should have been people coming and going, and the room should’ve been buried in paperwork for him to review.

But while I was talking with Carmelo, I didn’t even hear footsteps passing through the hallway.

It might be premature to judge with so little evidence, but it doesn’t seem like he came to handle Aizen Arena-related duties.

If that weren’t the case, he would’ve casually answered when I asked again.

—”Really? What were you assigned?”

—”Just some errands.”

Well, everyone’s working to make a living, so no need to overthink it.

***

After Hersel left, Carmelo took out a suitcase.

Then he stood in front of the mirror, combed his usually messy hair, and changed into neat clothes.

After confirming his noticeably refined appearance and magically smoothing out the wrinkles in his outfit, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

The Great Mage Lynderi stepped inside.

He glanced around with a side-eye.

He was likely checking for the soundproofing magic set in the room.

“Anything unusual?”

“Nothing much. Just exchanged greetings with the high nobles and had a few drinks.”

“Any contact with Bamal?”

“There was, but it was only at the level of exchanging pleasantries.”

Carmelo’s assigned role was to monitor Bamal, the principal of Valient, on behalf of Minister Gillum.

“May I ask why the Magic Tower is interested in those two?”

He asked carefully, and Lynderi shook his head.

But it was almost like he had answered indirectly.

“It’s an imperial matter. Best not to ask further.”

It’s related to the emperor.

If so, it’s probably because of Gillum’s activities.

‘The one who effectively placed his sister on the throne was Minister Gillum. There were plenty of suspicious elements in how he rose that high.’

He had an uncanny political instinct, which is crucial for a politician.

Born into a minor noble family, he had won the favor of the powerful factions at the time and began climbing the ladder of power while still in his 20s.

He used that momentum to catch the attention of the former emperor and even managed to receive royal blood transfusion privileges—clearly a man of extraordinary capability.

‘While his powerful rivals suffered misfortunes, he made his sister the queen…’

There’s no proof, but circumstantial evidence suggests it was his doing.

Given his meticulous nature, it’s no wonder the emperor is wary of him.

And considering the emperor has become even more cautious lately, Gillum might very well be preparing for rebellion.

They might also be wary of his contact with Bamal because there’s a chance Bamal might join his side.

‘I heard that Bamal was among the strange people gathered at the Temple Office, so it probably adds up. I thought he was just an ambitious man, but he might be more than that. Still, imperial power struggles have nothing to do with me.’

Carmelo only cared that, no matter who ends up in power, as long as the Magic Tower stays unharmed, it’s all fine.

He asked Lynderi,

“Once this job is over, the budget will be secured as promised, yes?”

“Ahem, it’s quite a sum, but for elite personnel like you, it’s only fair.”

Carmelo secretly thought he had struck gold.

Gillum himself must be aware he’s being watched.

Even if Aizen Arena is the only place where natural contact is possible, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to do anything suspicious.

He’d be fully aware that surveillance would be even tighter.

‘Looks like I’ll be earning easy money.’

All he had to do was lounge around in the VIP seats and eavesdrop while enjoying refreshments.

With that light-hearted mindset, Carmelo stepped out of his private office.

His footsteps were light.

***

Sitting on the chair, I quietly watched the sparring arena.

The matches went by in the blink of an eye.

“Everyone’s fighting so well.”

I nodded at Limberton’s comment.

As for Aslay, he had some trouble grabbing his opponent, but in the end, he knocked them out with a throw.

Erucel struck a smug expression, proudly shrugging his shoulders as if to boast about how easily he won.

Judging by how he looked up at the VIP seats, it seemed like he wanted to show off to his mother.

“Still a mama’s boy, huh.”

Meanwhile, Silla secured an easy victory as well.

The students from the magic department each showed off their specialties.

Psychological tactics and fierce strategic battles played out, but in the end, the ones still standing were from Frost Heart.

Even before all eleven matches were completed, they had already secured six wins, and the Ever Blaze students’ expressions had turned grim.

Even if the result was already decided, it was still a stage to showcase one’s skills, so it held meaning—but morale had clearly been shaken.

If things go well, we might even win flawlessly…

“Wow, if this keeps up, I’ll be the only one who loses.”

“Ah.”

The matches ended so quickly that I had completely forgotten about this guy’s antics.

“…Don’t talk like it’s no big deal, Limberton.”

“Isn’t it fine if just one of us loses?”

Sure, we had considered the possibility of a few losses, but that didn’t mean I wanted it to happen like this.

“You really show no signs of reflection at all.”

While I was talking with him, Ricks stepped down from the stage and Leana stepped up.

Leana kept glancing at the audience seats.

She must have been hoping that her father—who was against her becoming a knight—might be in attendance.

She had been sneaking glances since earlier, and it seemed she still hadn’t found him.

Even though he’s right over there, watching in nothing but a shabby sack-like outfit.

He could’ve just worn a normal coat—what era does he think it is, wearing something like that?

His old-fashioned sense of style only made me laugh.

But anyway, what are we going to do about this?

The knight division kids are stronger than expected.

It’s a level of power so intense that it’s making me uneasy.

My goal was just to beat Ever Blaze, after all.

Surely they won’t go as far as defeating Wisdom too, right?

“Hmm.”

Probably not.

The magic division has also gotten stronger thanks to learning from Dorosian, but they’re still no match against opponents armed with top-tier magic tools.

No matter how well the knight division fights, some of them are bound to lose, so there’s no real cause for concern.

We have a guaranteed loss with Limberton, after all.

“Suddenly, you seem rather valuable.”

“What? What’s with that look…”

“Limberton, you’re more useful than I thought.”

Leana grabbed her sword.

Her opponent rushed in instantly.

From my good vantage point, I could even see the twitch in sack-clothes-guy’s shoulder.

Leana deflected her opponent’s sword.

The opponent seemed to wince, surprised, and quickly channeled aura into their weapon.

Leana responded in kind.

The difference was that, although her aura was weaker compared to Bellen’s, it carried a fairly convincing flame.

The onlookers widened their eyes.

“What is that? Her sword is on fire!”

“When aura affinity surpasses a certain threshold, it can produce effects akin to magic. Still, it’s impressive, especially at such a young age.”

According to Donatan, it’s a phenomenon caused when emitted aura absorbs mana from the air.

It’s the same principle as when Arkandric produces cold air on his sword.

Those with more experience seemed to catch on quickly, connecting Leana and Bellen at once.

“Look over there. That’s Dame Bellen. Given she’s with Frost Heart, that girl must have inherited his swordsmanship.”

Bellen shrugged and watched her proud student warmly, and Leana met that expectation by swinging her sword without pause.

It was a reckless strategy, showing she had no intention of conserving stamina from the start.

Her opponent’s expression began to fill with a calm smile.

He was clearly planning to defend until she exhausted herself, then exploit an opening.

I sent him a sympathetic look.

I know from experience in games just how mentally exhausting it is to face a playable character with near-infinite stamina.

Before long, he’ll start wondering, ‘When the heck is she going to get tired?’

Sure enough, just as expected, the corners of his mouth began to fall.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, and even his pupils began to tremble slightly.

Leana, undeterred by her opponent’s reactions, continued her assault relentlessly.

“Huff, huff…”

Even though Leana had been the one relentlessly attacking from start to finish, it was the man who was gasping for breath.

The odd scene caused murmurs among the crowd.

In the midst of it, my eyes caught on sack-clothes-guy suddenly standing up.

What stood out was how, while others were chatting and reacting, he alone sat still without moving a muscle.

I could more or less guess what Leana’s father was feeling right now.

A daughter from a lowborn family, far from a noble lineage of swordsmanship, was pushing a famed prodigy into a corner.

It showed just how much blood and effort she had poured in, and her determination to prove herself was loud and clear.

Leana herself probably didn’t even realize her father had come, but the narrative had quietly taken one more step forward.

After countless exchanges, her opponent suddenly leapt back.

Judging by his stance, he had realized it was best to go all-out from the beginning.

But it was already too late.

Accumulated damage from repeated impacts had begun to make his hand tremble, and Leana did not miss the brief opening—her sword swung swiftly.

Clang!

With a weighted blow, his sword flew from his hands, spun through the air, and fell out of bounds.

Losing your weapon doesn’t mean the match is over, but you can’t really fight barehanded either.

Naturally, the opponent conceded, and with Leana’s victory, the sparring against Ever Blaze came to an end.

***

Athera opened her mouth with trembling hands.

“Everyone won except Limberton, Magdal.”

“Uh… yeah, I know.”

Magdal kept his eyes fixed on the betting slip in his hands.

“If they beat Wisdom too, it’s 27-to-1 odds…”

Athera looked at him with greedy eyes.

“Hey, want to sell that to me?”

“D-Don’t be ridiculous, Athera.”

“Aw, why not? I mean, it’s not like they’re actually going to beat Wisdom.”

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to? You only want it because you think they are going to win, and you want to snatch it from me on the cheap.”

Athera clicked her tongue and frowned.

“If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve bet big too…”

The only comfort came from the expressions of those who had lost money just like her.

How many people had actually bet on Frost Heart to win?

Aside from a tiny minority, likely none.

While they were filled with admiration, the contrast of anguished expressions was burned into memory.

Then her eyes stopped on someone dressed conspicuously.

There was not just one guy wearing a sack—there was another one standing nearby.

‘What the heck? Is this a trend?’

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