The second day of the Grand Magic Games dawned bright and loud.
The arena was packed once again, every seat filled. As the thirty remaining guild teams entered, the cheers were deafening. Yesterday, Fairy Tail's supporters had been little more than Macau and a few familiar faces. Today, nearly a quarter of the crowd was shouting their name.
All of it traced back to one moment.
Rowan Mercer's single-shot victory.
People admired strength. Always had. Show enough of it, and followers appeared without being asked.
After the host's brief opening remarks, the spotlight returned to the pumpkin mascot.
"Now," Mister Pumpkin announced, his projection hovering above the arena, "I will explain today's rules. Today's event is the individual match round."
A ripple of anticipation spread.
"Using our magic system, contestants will be randomly paired, excluding members of the same guild. Each fight is one-on-one. A win earns ten points for your guild. A loss earns zero. A draw earns five points each."
As his image faded, ten glowing magic circles flared to life across the arena floor. Ten circular platforms rose smoothly into place.
"One more rule," Mister Pumpkin added. "A match is decided when one fighter is incapacitated or surrenders. Killing an opponent results in immediate disqualification and the elimination of the entire guild."
Rowan's ears twitched as he studied the spellwork beneath the platforms.
"Interesting spatial arrays," he muttered. "I should take a look at these after the Games."
He had noticed it the day before. The arena's magic wasn't just summoning platforms. It could deploy, retract, and relocate objects seamlessly. Large-scale teleportation magic existed in this world, but it was tightly controlled. Nothing like it appeared in Fairy Tail's library.
Either the cost was extreme, or the technique was treated as a national secret.
Either way, it was worth learning.
Especially if it could be combined with his own gate-based teleportation methods. Improved capacity. Better stability. And if he was lucky, maybe a clue or two related to time magic.
"Now," Mister Pumpkin announced, "we begin the first draw!"
The massive screen flickered. One hundred and fifty names scrolled rapidly.
"Stop!"
The names froze.
As the first matchup appeared, the arena erupted.
Fairy Tail's Rowan Mercer.
Sabertooth's Omega.
The two most eye-catching performances from yesterday. Both lightning users. Both one-shot victories. And now, matched immediately.
The crowd leapt to its feet.
Rowan stared at the screen, unimpressed.
"That figures," he thought. "So much for 'random.'"
It was obvious. The organizers wanted fireworks early. First-time event, nationwide attention, future installments riding on success. You didn't leave excitement to chance.
Just like entertainment shows from another world. If you wanted reactions, you arranged them.
Looking closer, Rowan noticed a pattern. Most matchups paired fighters of similar caliber. Strong versus strong. Average versus average.
That way, no guild pulled too far ahead too fast. Suspense stayed alive for the later rounds.
Or maybe the Kingdom wanted to observe everyone's magic firsthand.
Either way, the Games weren't as simple as they looked.
"First group, step forward!"
Nineteen mages and one cat moved onto the ten platforms.
On one of them, Omega crossed his arms and looked down at Rowan with open disdain.
"So you're my opponent," he said loudly. "A cat. I heard you beat Laxus?"
Rowan tilted his head. "You know him?"
"Don't need to," Omega scoffed. "I only know he used Dragon Slayer lightning. Supposedly strong. Yet he lost to a cat." His lips curled. "Disappointing."
Omega had always considered Laxus a future rival. Another lightning wielder. Another user of Lost Magic. Someone worth surpassing.
Instead, Laxus had fallen. And died to a dragon, no less.
To Omega, that erased him.
"I see," Rowan said calmly. "Good. Then this stays simple."
Omega frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Rowan replied, spreading his paws lightly.
If Omega had been Laxus's friend, Rowan might've gone easy. Since he wasn't, there was no reason to bother.
"Match begin!"
The gong thundered.
Omega thrust out his hand. "God-Slaying Magic: Black Thunder Sphere!"
A massive black orb swallowed Rowan whole, lightning raging inside it like a storm imprisoned in glass.
Gasps rippled through the stands. Some spectators clutched their seats. A few cat-loving fans cried out in panic.
Then something strange happened.
Every bolt of black lightning rebounded.
Not scattered. Not deflected.
Reflected.
Like sparks hitting a mirror.
The sphere collapsed inward as Rowan raised a paw. Cyan lightning surged outward, wrapping the black orb, compressing it until it fit neatly into his grasp.
"That is… interesting," Rowan said thoughtfully.
The power inside was real. Sharper than ordinary lightning. Purpose-built to destroy something higher.
But against someone who had already brushed the essence of lightning itself, it wasn't enough.
"You and I," Rowan said evenly, "aren't playing the same game."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"And honestly? You're still a step below Laxus."
With a flick of his paw, the condensed sphere shot back toward Omega.
The arena fell dead silent.