The Royal Capital of Re-Estize.
Located at the highest point of the city, the royal castle was built upon a hill. From a distance, one could see city walls formed by more than twenty massive circular towers connected together, clearly separating the nobility from the common populace. Combined with the hill's elevation, the entire castle exuded an air of supremacy.
To the west, at the foot of the hill, stood a massive coliseum. All previous Royal Tournaments had been held within this arena. Such events were not only grand spectacles but also a means for the Re-Estize Kingdom to display its military prowess to foreign powers.
Clatter!
Clatter!
Amid the noisy, clamoring crowd, Irvine Wolf—feeling a slight pang at the expense—entered the arena and took a seat in the outermost spectator section. His gaze was fixed on the massive stage at the center, though from his position, he could only make out the silhouettes of the figures below.
This seat alone had cost him 5 silver coins!
"Now that's a profitable business," Irvine mused, his eyes sweeping over the densely packed crowd around him. He sighed inwardly. Being a witness to history could satisfy one's curiosity, but had he known the price would be so steep, he might have skipped it. After all, he already knew the outcome.
Irvine thought this with a touch of helplessness.
The Warrior Captain and the "Nail Clipper" had not yet appeared. On the stage below, several figures moved about, seemingly performing final inspections. Directly north of the stage was the only viewing platform significantly higher than the others, resembling a raised tower. It was obvious—this was likely reserved for the kingdom's nobility and royalty.
Compared to the lively atmosphere in other sections, the area around this elevated platform was eerily quiet. The subdued mood began to spread, as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over the crowd's fervor. Even the surrounding discussions gradually hushed.
Irvine tugged at the collar of his coarse linen shirt, shrugging indifferently as he calmly observed the scene. Others might not understand the reason for this somber atmosphere, but he knew the truth.
On the surface, this tournament was meant to find powerful warriors for the kingdom and proclaim its strength. But in reality, the Royal Tournament had always been a stage for nobles to showcase their subordinates and flaunt their own military influence. All commoner participants were merely stepping stones for these lords.
This was tied to the kingdom's noble succession system. Aside from the eldest son, other children of great nobles could not inherit titles. This led to the emergence of another rank within the nobility: Knight. This was a non-hereditary title with no fiefdom, yet it remained a coveted goal for younger nobles—not only for the status but because the royal family paid a substantial salary, ensuring financial security.
Of course, this was also the royal family's strategy: to cultivate a new generation of loyalists from among the nobility. The Royal Tournament was an open part of this plan. Outstanding noble scions who distinguished themselves would be granted the title of Knight.
However, in recent years, noble participants and their retainers had been gradually defeated by commoner adventurers, much to the aristocracy's displeasure. And now, the rise of Gazef Stronoff and Brain Unglaus—with their overwhelming momentum—had brought the tournament to a climax where two commoners dominated the stage.
"Heh." A faint smile touched Irvine's lips. He could well imagine the displeasure on the faces of the noble lords at this very moment.
After Gazef's victory, he should have received a Knighthood. Instead, a new position—Warrior Captain—was created under these unusual circumstances. The reason this duel became known among commoners as "the legendary battle" was because the Royal Tournament was abolished shortly thereafter. Clearly, no noble wanted a second Warrior Captain to emerge.
But these matters were trivial skirmishes compared to the future advent of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. No matter how dissatisfied the nobles were, this contest could neither be prevented nor stopped!
About ten minutes later, Irvine's expression grew serious, his gaze intent as he watched the future Warrior Captain and the Nail Clipper step onto the stage simultaneously.
After ascending the platform, they shook hands and exchanged a few words. From his distant seat, Irvine could see their figures but couldn't make out their conversation. Soon, they separated, moving a distance apart before turning to face each other.
At that moment, all noise in the audience ceased. Countless eyes were fixed on the two combatants, as if afraid to disturb their concentration.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Almost instantly, Gazef and Brain moved. Though twenty meters apart, they closed the distance in a brief charge and collided.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Their blades—or blade-like weapons—clashed violently, erupting in showers of sparks.
"So fast," Irvine murmured, his eyes widening in astonishment. His vision could barely track their movements. Their swords were a blur; he could only see the continuous sparks flying around them.
Irvine leaned back in his seat. They were simply on a different level from ordinary people. The power displayed in their clash was something that couldn't be fully captured in anime or novels. Witnessing this level of combat firsthand, Irvine truly understood the chasm between regular humans and these powerhouses.
And this was only around level 20?
Suddenly, Irvine felt a flicker of the despair Brain must have felt when facing Shalltear Bloodfallen. The title "Nail Clipper" was not meant to be derogatory; it was a testament to his skill against an impossible foe.
Whoosh—
On stage, a faint blue light flickered around Brain's body. In the next instant, he appeared behind Gazef as if teleporting. Yet, Gazef seemed to have anticipated it, rolling away and re-establishing distance.
"Is that a Martial Art?" Irvine's eyes widened.
Martial Arts were unique skills of the New World, not present in YGGDRASIL. They could be understood as a warrior's equivalent of magic. Their use consumed Focus—a mental resource akin to concentration. The more Martial Arts one used, the greater the mental fatigue. It was a stat absent in the game but one that felt more realistic.
Whether in anime or light novels, the power of Martial Arts was never weak. It was only the level limitations of humans that made them seem less impressive.
Suddenly—
Buzz!
Irvine's status panel appeared before his eyes.
'Skill "Flow Acceleration" detected. Requires basic warrior-type class. Conditions not met...'
'"Genius" class activated. Successfully converted. Conditions met. Consume 1 skill point to learn?'
Irvine stared at the information on the panel, surprise and realization dawning in his eyes. "So this is how skill points are used!" he muttered to himself.