Cheers echoed across Vaizel as ale spilled and mugs clanged. Hawk, atop a sturdy barrel-stand, was enthusiastically selling drinks to the spectators.
"One silver coin for ale brewed by the Boar Hat's finest chef—me!" he cried, chest puffed proudly. A few rowdy men clapped and tossed coins his way, more interested in the adorable talking pig than the drink.
Down in the rocky arena, Meliodas and Ban stood shoulder to shoulder, surveying the gathering of muscle-bound warriors, Holy Knights, strange hermits, and oddly ordinary people who had dared enter.
"No full power," Meliodas said, voice low but cheery.
Ban nodded, lazily rotating his arm. "Wouldn't be fair. Though I might have to use just a little against that Howzer guy."
Nearby, King hovered inches off the ground, arms folded. "This is ridiculous! Diane would kill you two if she knew you were fighting over Gideon like some toy!"
Meliodas tilted his head. "But we're trying to win it for her."
King froze, eyes wide. "…W-win it… for her?"
In his mind's eye, Diane smiled sweetly, blushing. "Thank you, King! You're amazing!"
With a sudden determination, King clenched both fists. "I'm going to win this."
Ban leaned toward Meliodas, grinning. "That look on his face—he's already fallen in love again."
Before any more words could be exchanged, a loud, flamboyant voice echoed through the arena.
"WELCOME, warriors! I am Love Helm, your splendid referee!" the man announced, spinning with dramatic flair. Wearing an oversized helmet shaped like a heart, he gestured with open arms. "The preliminary melee begins now! Rules are simple: push your opponent out of the ring and they're eliminated! Final eight advance to the main tournament!"
The audience howled in excitement.
"Oh, and remember," Love Helm added with a wink, "No weapons. Barehanded fighting only! But any technique is fair game!"
Brawl Begins!
"BEGIN!"
The ring exploded into chaos.
Fighters charged at each other, shouting war cries. Punches flew. Dust kicked up. Bones cracked. Bodies were sent flying like dolls.
Taizoo crushed opponents with casual shoves, his brute strength unmatched by most. "Let's see who has guts today!" he laughed.
Howzer swept through opponents like a storm, precise in movement, never wasting a step. "Finally, I can fight without holding back my punches!"
Ban, meanwhile, casually weaved through brawlers, yawning. "Come on, someone entertain me."
A cocky fighter approached him, bragging, "I'm the fastest in Britannia—!"
In a blink, Ban vanished. In the next blink, he stood behind the man—wearing the guy's shirt, admiring the fabric.
"Huh. Not bad. Way better than that torn rag from the Capital of the Dead."
The man fainted on the spot.
Elsewhere in the Fray…
King, hovering slightly, avoided every attack. "No thank you! Please stay away!" he cried, bobbing around like a bee dodging swats.
Suddenly, the green-haired mysterious girl from earlier dashed forward, launching an entire line of brawlers out of the arena with a single sweeping motion.
King's eyes widened in terror. "Wait, I'm not—!"
Too late. He was caught in the wave and sent flying—right over the edge.
Or so it seemed.
From the ground, the audience looked up in confusion as King hovered just above the outside of the ring, eyes wide, wings fluttering.
Love Helm tilted his head. "Hmm? You're… not out?"
"I was pushed, but I never touched the ground…" King replied weakly.
A chorus of angry competitors shouted, "Disqualify him! That's cheating!"
Love Helm shrugged. "He used no weapon. Just his body's natural gifts. It's… cheap, yes, but not against the rules!"
The audience roared with laughter.
Meliodas and Ban burst into chuckles nearby.
"Cheap move, King," Meliodas said.
"Real slick, Floaty Pants," Ban added.
King flushed. "You both tricked me into this! I'm not here to show off! I—I'm here for Diane!"
"Oh? So you are in love," Meliodas teased.
King's eyes twitched. "I hate you both."
-----
At the heart of a sealed magical facility beneath the castle, Hendrickson stood before a massive tank, filled with a thick, dark liquid. Floating within it was a cocoon-like figure, wrapped in cursed seals.
Helbram entered. "The transformation is accelerating."
"Good," Hendrickson said. "With the blood of the demon clans coursing through their veins, even the weakest knight can become a monster."
He turned toward a second tank—this one empty.
"Ardyn's selections… I'd like to test one next."
Helbram raised an eyebrow. "He's not exactly subtle. He's beginning to question your methods."
"I know," Hendrickson muttered. "Which is why we need to move faster. If we can awaken even a single member of the ancient Demon Clan…"
He trailed off, staring at the runes glowing across the tank.
"Britannia will bend."
-----
Final Eight of the tournament are confirmed:
Meliodas
Ban
King
Howzer
Taizoo
Mysterious Girl
Two others with strange auras—one of whom is cloaked and bears an odd resemblance to an elite knight.
As the crowd cheers, a man watches from a distance in the shadows of Vaizel's cliffs. His silver cloak bears a faint rune—Ardyn's sigil. He says nothing, simply observing, eyes narrowing at Meliodas.
-----
Cheers thundered through the cliffs of Vaizel as the eight finalists were guided into a shaded stone waiting room carved into the heart of the battle arena. The stone walls vibrated slightly from the roar of the excited crowd above. Inside, the air was dense with tension—and anticipation.
A giant, rune-engraved urn of fate stones stood at the center. One by one, the fighters approached to draw lots.
Love Helm, still decked in his ridiculous helmet and overflowing energy, stood beside it. "Contestants, please draw your numbered stones to determine matchups!"
The Matchups Revealed
First Match:Matrona vs. Griamore
Griamore cracked his knuckles, noticeably unarmored but still imposing in his sheer size. Across from him stood the cloaked Matrona, silent and calm. Her presence was... unsettlingly familiar.
Second Match:Howzer vs. Taizoo
At the sound of Howzer's name, King's eyes widened in recognition. "That's where I've seen him... Howzer of the Wind! A Holy Knight."
"Yup," Ban replied casually, leaning against the wall, shirt slightly too tight after swapping it mid-brawl. "Seems like he's not here on a mission, though. Just loves to fight."
Third Match: Cain vs. 'Old Fart'
"WHAT?!" King shouted, flailing as he read the lot Ban had handed him. "You entered me as Old Fart?!"
"Fits, doesn't it?" Ban smirked. "You do act like a grumpy grandpa sometimes."
The small, scruffy old man named Cain, whom they'd met at the tavern, chuckled through a hiccup. "Don't worry, boy. I'll go easy on ya."
Fourth Match: Baan vs. Meliodafu
"Seriously?" Meliodas raised an eyebrow. "You changed the spelling of our names?"
"Subtle, right?" Ban grinned.
Howzer blinked, squinting at them. "Weird. That guy looks exactly like Ban... and that one like Captain Meliodas... but with names like Baan and Meliodafu, no way they're the Sins." He chuckled to himself. "Man, I'm overthinking."
-----
In a shaded booth above the arena, Veronica, Elizabeth's older sister, watched the proceedings with narrowed eyes. Dressed in noble garb, she leaned on the edge of the stone rail.
"So... the Seven Deadly Sins have taken the bait," she muttered.
Behind her stood a pair of disguised Holy Knights, faces obscured by hoods.
"Shall we intervene, Lady Veronica?"
"No. Not yet. Let them play their games. When the time comes, we'll strike. Elizabeth will return to Liones—whether she wants to or not."
Match One: Matrona vs. Griamore
Back in the arena, Love Helm leapt to the center with a flourish.
"LET THE FIGHT BEGIN! First up: the silent, stoic warrior—Matrona! And her formidable opponent, the bodyguard of Princess Veronica—Griamore!"
The crowd roared.
"Wait," Howzer muttered, glancing down at Matrona. "Why does she feel so familiar…"
As Griamore stepped forward, Love Helm held up a hand. "Before the match, Matrona, please remove your cape for identification."
The cloaked figure silently obeyed, slipping off the heavy shroud.
Gasps filled the coliseum.
She stood tall, wearing simple armor—but it wasn't her build that stunned the crowd.
It was her face.
Identical to Princess Elizabeth.
Shock Ripples
"E-Elizabeth?!" King stammered.
Meliodas's eyes sharpened instantly, the playful energy around him turning still.
"No," Ban said, frowning. "That isn't her."
From above, Veronica flinched. "She—she looks exactly like Elizabeth. Who is this imposter?"
Down below, Griamore paused, visibly thrown off. "Princess Elizabeth? No, that's not—" He took a step forward and narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
Matrona remained silent, stepping into her stance.
"BEGIN!" Love Helm shouted, too delighted by the drama to question it further.
Far from the noise, atop a craggy ridge overlooking Vaizel, a tall man in a silver cloak—Ardyn—watched with quiet amusement.
He murmured to himself, "So the puppet has taken the stage."
Behind him, a young Holy Knight, enchanted by demon blood, stepped forward.
"Shall I intervene?"
"No," Ardyn replied, his voice cold and patient. "The chaos must ripen on its own. This 'Matrona'—hmmm. Let the sins be thrown further into disarray. Let her see what it means to bear the face of destiny."
His gaze fell toward the arena.
"And when hearts are tested and truths unravel... then we strike."