Chapter 450: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: First Rounds

"Winner!"

Patrick West’s voice echoed loudly from the technical room inside the Arena, where he sat behind the commentator’s equipment with his eyes fixed on the fighting platform.

"Maxwell!"

His excited voice carried a mixture of shock and amazement.

And...

Obviously...

It wasn’t only him.

"H-How?"

High-Ember Greyson suddenly rose from his seat, staring at his son lying unconscious on the fighting platform.

He couldn’t believe what his eyes had just witnessed.

"Arelo lost... just like that?"

Voices filled with amazement began rising around the area where the High-Ember sat.

Some of the people who had confidently spoken about Arelo’s victory only moments ago were now staring at the fighting platform with slightly stiff expressions.

"Maybe he underestimated that Maxwell boy?"

One person suggested.

"No... his speed was simply that good."

Another immediately shook his head.

"Yeah. That clearly isn’t something a Binder Alchemist or an ordinary Adept Alchemist should be able to perform."

More discussions began.

Many people were now questioning Maxwell’s actual Alchemist Rank after witnessing the level of speed he had displayed.

His movement had been too fast.

Far too fast.

Some people began looking at him with greater interest, while others quietly reconsidered the information they thought they already knew about him.

However, there was one thing that became certain to everyone among the crowd who had their eyes fixed on the disciple of the Sun Alchemist.

He is strong.

All of them had reached the same conclusion.

Applause ignited throughout the Arena.

Maxwell, who had just won his first match, raised a hand and waved lightly toward the crowd. He also bowed, though there was still a nervous look on his face as his eyes briefly moved toward the enormous number of people watching him.

After that, he quickly walked off the fighting platform.

"Well, that was pretty quick."

Patrick West said, still sounding amused.

The Medic Team of the Royal Academy immediately walked onto the fighting platform and carefully lifted the unconscious Arelo onto a stretcher.

His father and mother watched from the stands with a complicated expression as the Medics carried his son away.

The fighting platform was cleaned and checked.

And almost immediately after that...

"Now, let the next match of the First Round begin!"

Patrick announced the next fight without wasting any time.

And like that...

The First Round matches for the day began.

The second fight had Nate Ashenlocke facing a female Non-Noble student who followed the Flora Alchemy Path.

The moment the match started, many people expected the fight to last longer than Maxwell’s.

However...

Just like Maxwell’s fight, the battle between the two students didn’t take long to reach its conclusion.

There were only a few minutes of difference between both fights.

The crowd was shocked once again by the performances of the First-Years who were showing just how far ahead they were compared to many of their fellow classmates.

Some students fought carefully.

Some relied heavily on the Alchemy Paths they had learned.

Others attempted to overpower their opponents through direct attacks.

As the hours passed...

The first set of matches for the First Round was completed.

One hundred and seven matches had been fought and concluded.

Many students advanced.

And some didn’t.

For many of the First-Years who lost, it was a painful time.

Some walked away with their heads lowered.

Others sat quietly after their matches, unable to hide their disappointment.

The Combat Festival had only just begun, yet losing in the First Round already meant beginning from a much lower position when the official Academy rankings of their Year are released.

On the other hand, the students who had won their matches experienced the complete opposite feeling.

Some celebrated with their friends.

Some ran toward their family members after leaving the Arena.

Others tried to remain calm, though the smiles on their faces made it impossible to hide their excitement.

Some of the most important names had yet to fight.

The following days would be their time.

And the people of Britannia would finally get to watch them in action.

However, even from the first day, many strong candidates had already revealed themselves.

The next day arrived.

Just like the previous day, the Arena was once again filled with people.

The powerful figures of Britannia were present.

The Queen was also present inside the Arena.

The first match of the day began almost immediately after the opening procedures were completed.

Some matches lasted a long time.

Some were filled with passion and determination as both fighters refused to surrender.

No one wanted to lose in the First Round.

Especially when losing the First Round meant ranking among the lower positions of the entire First-Year Academy Ranking List.

For many First-Years, that would be a terrible starting point for their Academy life.

And they would basically spend the following years trying to catch up.

Although...

For some of the students who simply weren’t as talented or as prepared as the others...

There was little they could do once they met someone far stronger than themselves.

"Winner!"

Patrick’s voice echoed excitedly at the end of a fight that had finally become one of the best matches shown from the first day until now.

"Sasha Burnwick!"

He announced as he stretched his hand from the commentator’s seat toward Sasha.

Sasha raised both of her hands with a pleased smile on her face.

Cheers and applause immediately followed.

Not far from her...

Bam!

Bess Ashforge struck the ground with her hand.

"Damn it. Damn it. Damn it."

Her teeth gritted as she stared at the fighting platform, anger clearly directed toward herself rather than Sasha.

She had given the fight everything she had.

Yet...

She still lost.

Bess glanced toward Sasha, who was receiving cheers and applause from the crowd.

Her expression became complicated.

Bess already knew that Sasha Burnwick was far ahead of her in many ways.

That wasn’t something she could deny.

But after everything she had gained from the Trial of Steel...

After all the improvements her body had experienced...

Shouldn’t she have been able to defeat someone like Sasha Burnwick?

The fight itself had been fast.

From the moment the word Begin was announced, Bess had spent the opening part of the battle on the defensive.

Sasha’s Flame Alchemy executions had been faster than Bess imagined.

And the frightening part was that Sasha hadn’t even needed to use flame-related materials to ignite her Flame Alchemy.

Her attacks came directly from the unique Flame Alchemy Circles she formed.

One after another.

Fast.

Controlled.

And powerful.

Some of them were Adept Alchemy Rank Flame Attacks.

Bess, who was still within the Binder Alchemist Rank, had been forced to dig deep into everything she possessed.

She ran.

She evaded.

She countered whenever she found an opening.

Yet Sasha continued pressing forward.

The heat kept following her.

The attacks continued coming.

Sasha herself had become impressed by Bess’s resilience and tenacity.

The multiple Binder Alchemy Rank Flame Attacks she used against Bess hadn’t affected her as much as Sasha expected.

Bess had literally tanked the attacks and continued fighting.

Even when the flames struck her body, she forced herself to remain standing and kept moving.

That was one of the reasons the fight had lasted as long as it did.

"Ahhh..."

Sasha sighed softly as she glanced toward Bess, who was being carried away on a stretcher by the Medic Team.

Her eyes remained on Bess for a moment.

"What are the Ashenlockes made of, that a random person like her can be that strong?"

She muttered to herself.

I hope I don’t meet an Ashenlocke again in the next rounds until the fifth round.

Sasha said in her mind as she walked towards the entrance she came from, while waving elegantly to the cheering crowd.

The fight had ended with Sasha’s victory.

But even after winning, Bess had left enough of an impression for Sasha to remember her.

Not just her alone...

But all the random Ashenlocke’s that were amongst the first-years.

More exciting matches followed.

Then more matches ended.

As the days continued passing, more and more First-Years entered the fighting platform.

First-Years like...

Lyra Ashburn.

Priscilla Ashenlocke.

Gin Drakes.

Logan Drakes.

Veda Ashenlocke.

Cyrus Burnwick.

Phiora Casper.

Kane Casper.

Princess Stella Aethelmont.

Prince Tristin Aethelmont.

Prince Charles Aethelmont.

Willow Derlis.

Desmond Derlis.

Nickolas Balor.

Linda Balor.

Page Laverdale.

Felix Ashenlocke.

Gareth Ashenlocke.

Ravenor Burnwick.

Diane Bergwyn.

Gill Galehart.

Grace Evergrey.

Grant Evergrey.

And many more of the well-known names made their way into the next round with victories that, for most of them, came rather easily.

The people of Britannia gradually became more familiar with the stronger candidates as the First Round continued.

Some victories were expected.

Others were less predictable.

Still, every passing day brought the Festival closer to the fights people truly wanted to see.

And like that...

Saturday finally arrived.

The match people had been patiently waiting to watch was finally here.

A battle between one of the strongest candidates expected to win the entire Festival...

Fatima Drakes.

And the Child of Ash who had created the ideology for the revolution of Britannia’s vehicles...

Ezra Ashenlocke.

However, even though the greater wave of interest rested on Fatima Drakes to win...

There was still something in the atmosphere that prevented many people from completely believing that Fatima already had the victory in the bag.

Ezra Ashenlocke had become too difficult to understand.

His name carried a different kind of weight.

Some people only knew him as an Ashenlocke.

Others knew him as the boy behind the Phantom Rolls and the ideology that was beginning to change the way Britannians looked at vehicles.

There were also those who had heard rumors about his abilities as an Alchemist.

Especially after his presentation during the club tournament, which showed many people the fight against an Elder Ghost Crawler.

They could view just how good the boy moved with the gun in hand, and utilize his Gun Alchemy in a level that screamed he might be stronger than he looks.

The matches of the day began as usual.

Many wonderful spectacles appeared on the fighting platform.

Students fought with everything they had.

The crowd cheered.

Patrick continued announcing winners.

The Medic Team repeatedly entered and left the Arena.

However...

The anticipation inside the Arena kept building.

And building.

Not because the earlier matches were bad.

But because everyone knew what was approaching.

A fight where neither side could be clearly declared the winner before the battle even started.

***

Ezra stood calmly inside the waiting room within the Arena.

"WOAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

The sound of cheering echoed loudly enough to reach him through the walls.

The next match was about to end.

His match was getting closer.

He remained standing there, listening to the distant noise of the Arena and the voices that occasionally became louder whenever the crowd reacted to something happening on the fighting platform.

Ezra turned his head and looked toward the door.

The door opened.

Ezra looked at who it was.

A member of the Royal Academy staff stood at the entrance.

"Mr. Ezra Ashenlocke. You are next."

The staff member spoke calmly.