As soon as the host declared the beginning of the Second Round, the stadium stirred once more.
Contestants began dispersing across the vast grounds.
The first matches were assigned to Section A, while the remaining sections would follow simultaneously.
Rey made his way toward the public stands.
Based on the match order, he was certain his turn wouldn't come before three in the afternoon.
For a brief moment, he considered returning home to train.
But the image of the butler standing at the door, arms crossed, instantly killed that idea.
And booking a private training room for half a day at full price was out of the question.
In the end, he chose the simplest option.
He sat down at a corner of the stands and began observing.
Round Two was clearly different.
The number of weak contestants had dropped sharply.
And why wouldn't it?
The first round existed for exactly this reason.
To filter out the bottom layer.
From here on, the gap between contestants would only grow clearer.
The corner Rey had chosen was relatively empty. The view wasn't perfect, but it served his purpose.
Unnoticed, he activated his ability.
His vision sharpened.
The battlefield expanded.
All twenty matches happening simultaneously came into clear focus.
Talented youths clashed across the grounds, weapons flashing, techniques colliding.
They were good.
Some were even impressive.
But still… none of them stood anywhere near Aric.
That said, a few matches stood out from the average chaos.
Especially those involving Elemental Artists.
Rey watched carefully as fire users overwhelmed their opponents with relentless pressure.
Earth manipulators reinforced their bodies and shattered defences with raw force.
He had already faced Aric, who used Lightning through his Spiritual Root as a medium.
Now he was seeing more of them.
Four Fire users.
Two Earth users.
And then—
His eyes narrowed.
Section B.
A noble girl stepped onto the battlefield.
Ice.
An Innate Ice Root.
The match ended almost the moment it began.
Rey watched as her opponent rushed in, clearly underestimating her slender figure.
She didn't retreat.
Didn't dodge.
She raised her palm.
The temperature dropped violently.
In an instant, her opponent froze solid, his body locked in place like a lifeless statue.
She calmly stepped past him, took her ID, and left the field.
Rey exhaled slowly.
Her control was terrifyingly precise.
If he faced her, she would freeze him before he could even loose an arrow.
Just like that unfortunate fool.
He was glad she wasn't in his section.
By the time the clock passed 2:00 PM, most of the matches in Sections A and B had concluded.
Rey noticed a few… unusual contestants as well.
One was the spear-wielder he had spotted earlier.
Another was even stranger.
A man who defeated his opponent using only his fists.
No spear.
No weapon.
His opponent wasn't weak either—a noble-born swordsman with solid fundamentals.
Yet he was knocked out in just two punches.
Rey couldn't see the man's face beneath his mask.
But if he had…
He might have recognised Garvion.
The same Garvion who had sat beside Davin.
The two had grown close in just two days.
Close enough to leave the city together and hunt Stage 1 beasts.
Enough to prove that Davin's decision to join his team wasn't a mistake.
As Rey continued observing, Section C matches were announced.
His section.
He stood up immediately.
Even though he was assigned to Group Seven, and Group One was only just being called, he preferred to be prepared.
Quietly, he retrieved his bow and quiver from his shadow space, careful not to draw attention.
Then he moved toward the preparation area.
The waiting hall was large, almost like an indoor arena itself.
Several contestants were already present.
As Rey entered, conversations faltered.
Eyes turned.
Whispers followed.
The black overcoat.
The hood.
The bow.
It was unmistakable.
Contestant 19,082.
A few tried to strike up a conversation.
Rey ignored them completely.
One by one, they backed off, irritation flashing across their faces.
Soon, muttering replaced curiosity.
Bad words were spoken openly.
Rey didn't react.
He didn't even glance at them.
His attention was on his phone, watching the live feed of the ongoing matches.
Group Two was already fighting.
He analysed carefully.
There were several competent martial warriors in his section.
Most were above average.
Some were clearly holding back.
But even so, the gap between them and monsters like Aric remained enormous.
Or perhaps…
They simply hadn't been forced to reveal everything yet.
Every three minutes, the gates opened.
New contestants entered.
Others returned.
Some smiling.
Some silent.
Some wiped tears from their eyes.
Rey watched them quietly.
This is reality.
One wins.
One loses.
Without strength, the gap between the two can never be crossed.
Finally—
"Group Seven, prepare to enter."
Rey stood up.
This was it.
He stepped forward alongside the other contestants as they were guided toward the battlefield.
The moment the contestant IDs appeared on the giant screen, the crowd stirred.
And when Rey's ID lit up—
The reaction exploded.
The bowman.
The one who had fought Aric.
Eyes locked onto the forty contestants entering the stage.
Rey walked calmly, hood pulled low.
His bow rested silently behind his back.
"Look, he's here," someone whispered.
"Maybe we'll see another match like yesterday."
Another voice scoffed.
"Monsters like Aric aren't common. That clash was a fluke. Without a worthy opponent, this guy won't even need to try."
Speculation spread like wildfire.
Even the noble gallery showed signs of movement.
Down on the field, Rey stepped onto Battlefield Three.
The referee was already waiting.
So was his opponent.
Standing quietly across from him.
The moment he saw who his opponent was, the colour drained from his face.
His confidence collapsed instantly.
Any lingering hope vanished the second his eyes landed on the number.
19,082.
The mysterious bowman who had shaken the entire kingdom.
'Why… why him?'
His throat went dry.
'Why did I forget to check the IDs today…'
But even if he had checked, what difference would it have made?
The result would be the same.
'I just hope I don't lose too badly…'
Rey, on the other hand, didn't spare him a second glance.
He stood calmly as the referee checked his ID, his expression indifferent, almost detached.
Just as Rey turned to walk back to his position, the man suddenly spoke.
"Hey… wait, brother."
Rey stopped and looked back.
"Yes? Do you need something?" he asked plainly.
The man hesitated, then leaned in slightly.
"Ah… can you do me a favour?"
Rey frowned faintly.
"Huh? If you're thinking of asking me to let you win, forget it. That's not happening," he said bluntly.
"No—no, that's not it!" the man hurriedly replied.
"Listen, I know I'm going to lose. I'm not delusional. But… can you at least not make it look too miserable?"
Rey looked at him more carefully now.
The man continued, his voice low.
"There's a difference between losing with dignity and being utterly crushed. I just… don't want to walk off looking like a joke."
Rey was silent for a moment.
"I don't understand. Speak clearly," he said.
The man clenched his fists.
"I'm saying… please make it look like you had to put in some effort. Even a little. That way, my name won't completely fall apart."
Rey exhaled softly.
He understood now.
"…You're asking for something pointless," he said.
The man's shoulders sagged.
"But fine. I'll try."
The man's eyes lit up.
"Thanks, brother! I'll pray you make it into the Top 50—no, who am I kidding? With your strength, who's stopping you?"
He quickly backed away.
The referee, who had been waiting impatiently, finally raised his hand.
Both contestants moved to their positions.
The man drew his sword, gripping it tightly.
Rey calmly took out his bow and knocked an arrow.
"Both contestants," the referee announced,
"Are you ready?"
"Yes," the man said, forcing a grin.
He even winked at Rey.
Rey nodded once.
'What kind of guy did I run into this time…' he sighed inwardly.
The signal was given.
Rey decided to restrain his strength, just enough to test his opponent.
But—
What happened next was something no one could comprehend.
Not the crowd.
Not the contestants watching.
Not even the referee.
The man who had been standing inside the field was now outside it.
His sword lay shattered into fragments.
An arrow was pinned to the ground beside him.
His body was unharmed.
No blood.
No wounds.
He stared blankly at the sky, unable to process what had just happened.
At the instant the match began, he had rushed forward, sword raised.
Rey had released the arrow at the same moment.
The shot was precise.
Deliberate.
The arrow struck the sword mid-swing.
The blade shattered on impact, striking his chest plate.
It didn't penetrate further, as the force had weakened after the collision.
The force carried through, sending the man flying past the boundary line.
The entire exchange lasted less than five seconds.
Silence swallowed the stadium.
The referee stood frozen before finally raising his hand.
"Battlefield Three… Contestant 19,082 is the winner."
The crowd erupted.
Even without spectacle, ending a match with a single arrow was still overwhelming.
But Rey didn't feel victorious.
He looked apologetically at the man still lying on the ground.
'I misjudged it…'
This bow could handle far more strength than his old one.
If he hadn't restrained himself—
He walked over, helping the man to his feet.
At the same time, he discreetly retrieved his arrow and slid it back into his quiver, smoothly and naturally.
"I'm sorry," Rey said honestly.
"I tried to control it… But I couldn't."
The man laughed weakly.
"No worries. I get it."
Then his smile softened.
"Just… don't lose later, alright? If you do, my sacrifice would feel pointless."
Rey smirked lightly.
"I won't let it go to waste."
The man nodded and left with the others.
Rey watched him go.
'I thought he'd swear revenge or curse me,' Rey thought.
'What kind of novels have I been reading to make me believe that such a plot could happen to me, just like it happened to those main characters…'
'Aiden was right. Reality isn't a story.'
He shook his head and approached the referee to receive his badge.
As he walked away, the other contestants stared at him as if he were something dangerous.
Rey didn't linger.
Using the partial technique to conceal himself after leaving the preparation room, he exited through the main gate.
From the noble gallery, Hosric watched quietly.
When Rey picked up his arrow mid-assist, Hosric was maybe the only one who noticed.
He smirked.
'That habit again…'
His sister had warned him about it.
As the matches continued and round two concluded, the tournament moved forward.
The next round awaited.
With greater stakes.
Greater tension.
And far greater consequences.