"I concede!"
In the arena, a timid-looking girl stepped forward and immediately admitted defeat without hesitation. Her declaration was met with a chorus of boos from the audience, but she remained unfazed.
Conceding against an opponent she had no chance of defeating was the wisest choice. Taking a beating only to lose and end up in the hospital would have been outright foolish. As for the dissatisfied audience, what did their opinions matter to her? She wasn't gaining anything from the fight, so why sacrifice herself just to please them?
"Well, a familiar scene plays out once more. Faced with the overwhelming strength of Jelos, his opponent has once again made the sensible choice. Unfortunately, that means we won't get to see the Starbreaker Jelos in action today," the announcer lamented.
In the arena, Muria stood expressionless as the girl conceded and turned to leave. He had grown accustomed to this over the past few matches. One by one, his opponents had sensibly chosen to forfeit rather than face him.
His typical match now consisted of stepping into the arena, waiting for the referee's announcement, and then leaving. This routine was so familiar that neither he nor the audience found it particularly exciting anymore. Even his string of effortless victories no longer stirred much buzz online.
At this point, the entire Federation's attention had shifted away from him and even from the Star Armor Tournament, which was typically the most anticipated event. Instead, all eyes were on the first Martial Master in three centuries, Ain.
After defeating the Crimson Radiance King, Ain had not stopped. He continued challenging titled Star Armor users at a steady pace, averaging one challenge every three days. One by one, these renowned and formidable Star Armor users fell before Ain's fists. He seemed unstoppable, an indomitable force that nothing could resist.
The words Martial Master and titled Star Armor user carried such weight that they eclipsed everything else. The Federation's attention was now firmly fixed on these monumental clashes, rendering the Star Armor Tournament—held every three years—almost irrelevant. This year's tournament was rapidly becoming the least-watched in history.
Yet, despite the diminished interest, the tournament proceeded as usual. Canceling or rescheduling it would have been a farce.
---
"Master, after the preliminaries, it's time for the main tournament. I can't wait!" A girl's excited face appeared on Muria's communicator screen. Like every contestant, she dreamed of making a name for herself.
"What's there to look forward to? This year's tournament is the most boring ever," grumbled Robert, a young participant nearby. "Because of that Martial Master, the tournament's viewership has plummeted. Every time he challenges someone, the audience numbers for our matches nosedive."
"Well, we can't compare ourselves to someone who can defeat titled Star Armor users," another student said, sighing.
"That has nothing to do with you," Muria interrupted firmly. "You should focus on figuring out how to defeat your opponents in battle."
As the group began to murmur complaints, Muria swiftly cut them off. Though Ain's challenges indirectly affected him too, he had no intention of asking his father to stop.
"Speaking of the matches," one of the students chimed in, "what happens if we end up facing each other? If any of us meet in the early rounds, we won't be able to fulfill your request to dominate the top eight."
"Yeah, I hadn't even considered that! I wouldn't worry about going up against you guys, but if I end up facing Jelos, I'd just concede. There's no point in fighting him."
"You're overthinking it," a young man interjected confidently. "The matchups are arranged by the family. They won't let us meet too early. Other families do the same. The goal is to eliminate all participants who aren't part of the four great families or the government. After that, it's just a competition among us."
Hearing this insider information, Muria remained expressionless. The Star Armor Tournament's primary purpose was to showcase the strength of the government and the four families to the lower classes and neighboring states. It was also a means to demonstrate the talent of their younger generation to rival powers, thereby securing greater influence.
Given this purpose, rigging the matches to ensure outsiders were eliminated early was standard practice. The fairness of the competition was irrelevant. Allowing unaffiliated participants to lose on the battlefield was already a form of mercy.
This was an open secret. The top 32 contestants were almost always from the four great families or the government. As for the top 64, it was a matter of luck whether any outsiders made it that far. Sometimes there were a few; other times, none.
"Do your best in your matches and perform well. I want to see all of you in the top eight," Muria encouraged them.
"If we make it to the top eight, you'll win the championship without even breaking a sweat," said Daisy, Muria's younger half-sister, smiling. She had grown completely respectful of her brother's strength.
"That depends on you. If any of you want to challenge me, I won't hold back," Muria replied casually.
"I've already taken enough beatings from you during training. I'd rather concede in public than lose even more face," joked Victor, one of Muria's sparring partners. His cocky attitude had mellowed considerably after numerous "friendly" matches.
---
The preliminaries ended after 20 days. Ten days later, following a brief interlude to repair, maintain, or replace participants' Star Armor, the main tournament began.
Even in the main tournament, where the competition was fiercer, Muria remained unstoppable. His matches followed a familiar script: opponents who immediately conceded and those who tried to gauge his strength before being defeated in a single move.
Muria's dominance was absolute. Each of his opponents ended up flat on the ground, awaiting medical assistance. This pattern earned him a growing fanbase and a fearsome title: Starbreaker.
The name came from the fact that his opponents' Star Armor was invariably destroyed to the point of requiring complete reconstruction after facing him.
While Muria's rapid ascent continued, his seven protégés also advanced steadily. However, unlike Muria, whose victories were effortless, their battles grew increasingly difficult as the competition intensified. At this level, the differences in talent, equipment, and skill were minimal, forcing them to rely on strategy and sheer determination.
---
"Victor Douglas, for someone with a measly 80% Star Affinity, you've done well to push me this far. You should feel proud. I'll remember your name," said a youth in purple Star Armor, removing his helmet to reveal a smugly composed expression. His tone exuded an air of superiority that bordered on disdain. "Concede."
"My Star Affinity is 81.36%, not 80%. Get it right, Orno Francis," Victor corrected him.
"It makes no difference," Orno replied impatiently. "You've done enough. You can face your family with pride. Take this opportunity to bow out gracefully."
Victor looked at his surroundings. Only two battered floating cannons remained at his side, a pitiful sight compared to the eighteen pristine cannons hovering protectively around Orno.
"Sure, I've done enough for my family and parents. But I can't say the same for my teacher," Victor said with a carefree smile. "If I give up now, not only would I lose face, but I'd probably get beaten to death by him."
Victor's opponent frowned as Victor raised his weapon again, ready to fight. This match, his ticket to the top 16, had pitted him against an immensely talented opponent from the Francis family with an extraordinary 93.71% Star Affinity.
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