The murmur filling the grand hall of Shirakuma Academy gradually faded until complete silence took over.
An elegant figure had stepped onto the central platform.
Her mere presence radiated authority.
With silver hair neatly tied into a flawless bun and dressed in a form-fitting navy-blue suit adorned with delicate golden threads, the academy's new director raised one hand.
Absolute silence followed.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and distinguished guests," her voice rang clear and firm throughout the hall. "As the newly appointed director of Shirakuma Academy, it is my honor to inaugurate this new edition of the Crown Tournament, a tradition that celebrates the skill, spirit, and nobility of each of our students."
Alex, seated beside Arianne at one of the tables reserved for special guests, blinked.
Crown Tournament.
It sounded more like a beauty pageant than a combat competition.
The director continued before he could comment.
"This year, we will be implementing a new format," she announced. "One-on-one battles across multiple qualifying rounds. Each combatant will face several different opponents. In the end, only the highest-ranked participants will advance to the final stage."
She paused briefly.
"We will call this system the Dynastic Balance Round. It will be fair, strategic… and brutal."
Alex leaned slightly toward Arianne, one eyebrow raised.
"That sounds a lot like a… Swiss format," he murmured.
Arianne tilted her head, amused.
"Swiss format?"
"In my world," he explained quietly, "tournaments use it when there are too many participants and they don't want someone eliminated after just one loss. You win, you move up. You lose, you drop—but you can still make a comeback."
She smiled.
"I don't know what a 'Swiss' is… but it sounds like cheese."
Alex chuckled under his breath.
The lighthearted moment shattered when the director raised her voice once more.
"And now… it is time to present the undefeated champion of the past two years."
The lights in the hall dimmed.
An expectant murmur spread through the crowd.
"The one who bears the title of Queen of Crowns," she continued. "Alisce Charlotte."
The illumination slowly returned.
A young woman descended the staircase of the stage.
Her pure white gala dress was embroidered with golden patterns that shimmered beneath the magical lamps. Her long blonde hair cascaded smoothly down to her waist, and her crystal-blue eyes swept across the hall with absolute calm.
Alex felt a chill run down his spine.
Her gaze stopped on him.
For an instant, the air itself seemed to freeze.
By pure reflex, Alex raised a hand to greet her.
There was no response.
Alisce looked at him without emotion, without curiosity… and then turned her gaze away with an indifference that felt almost insulting.
"She's…" Alex murmured, lowering his hand.
"Yes," Arianne replied seriously. "The Invincible Princess. The jewel of this academy. The rival no one has ever defeated."
The hall erupted into applause.
But Alex barely heard it.
That cold gaze lingered in his mind.
And for some reason… that indifference felt like a challenge.
—
Alisce Charlotte stepped into the center of the hall.
Each step was firm.
Confident.
The chandelier light enhanced the golden shine of her hair and the intensity of her blue eyes.
"This tournament," she began, her voice clear and commanding, "is not merely a display of power, nor a simple competition among princesses and nobles."
The silence deepened.
"It is the living manifestation of the honor carried in our names—and of the legacy we are sworn to protect for our families and kingdoms."
Some participants nodded solemnly. Others crossed their arms, analyzing every word.
"Victory is not earned through brute force alone," she continued. "Nor through shallow demonstrations of skill. It is earned by proving one's nobility of spirit and the ability to represent those who came before us."
Tension thickened the air.
"It is a commitment to the history that granted us our position and power."
Suddenly, a cold voice rose from the crowd.
"Just words, Alisce?" it said. "Then let your actions prove they mean something."
The murmurs grew.
Provocations.
Veiled challenges.
But Alisce raised one hand.
Silence returned instantly.
"This is not a place for petty arguments or meaningless quarrels," she declared. "We are representatives of lineages that shaped history itself."
She lifted her chin.
"The true challenge lies within the tournament. There, worthiness will be decided. Until then, let us uphold the dignity of our houses."
No one replied.
The rivals returned to their seats—though not all looked satisfied.
Respect… had been enforced.
—
Seraphina von Braxil, the elven duchess, inclined her head slightly, an enigmatic smile on her lips.
"Honor is not won by words… but conviction should never be underestimated," she murmured.
Linéa D'Arvenn crossed her arms and let out a mocking chuckle.
"We'll see if legends survive on the battlefield."
Yvette de Mornaille watched in silence, her gaze distant.
"Let the tournament decide."
—
Alex had remained quiet the entire time.
Arianne leaned closer to him.
"This is how things work here," she whispered. "Power, prestige… and pride."
Alex nodded.
"I'm ready," he replied. "Even if the path won't be easy."
Lucia approached, carrying a tray of drinks.
"You're not alone, Alex," she said with a calm smile. "And in this place, that alone is already a great advantage."
Alex took the glass.
And once more, he looked toward Alisce Charlotte.
The Queen of the Tournament