Group 2 Prelim Over.

The shield, kicked by the Spartian warrior, hurtled toward Alexia.

Wood or not, it was large enough to cover half a grown man's body.

At that mass, it packed more destructive force than most spells.

Alexia's mind raced.

After she dealt with this shield, the Spartian warrior would follow up immediately.

If she showed even the slightest opening, he would seize it, and that would be the end.

Alexia licked her lips.

She was the type whose fighting spirit burned hotter the more she was cornered.

"Bring it on."

She released her battle-axe and freed both hands, then deployed two spells in parallel.

A technique known as dual-casting, one that demanded exacting control.

Difficult, yes, but her time adventuring as a slave had expanded her capacity as a mage.

Fire magic in her right hand.

Concussive magic in her left.

But even these two spells alone wouldn't be enough to stop the incoming shield.

Alexia layered additional power on top.

The difficulty of maintaining control skyrocketed with each added layer, but she managed it perfectly.

Dual-casting with additional layering on top.

A first attempt, and it succeeded.

Both hands now surged with an immense concentration of mana and force.

"My, my. It seems I've grown stronger still. You have my gratitude!"

She clasped her hands together.

Concussive magic and fire magic merged into one.

"Flame Burst."

The spell, overflowing and desperate for release, detonated against the massive shield just as it reached her.

Alexia's magic blasted the shield backward, straight at the Spartian warrior who'd been charging in with sword drawn.

He dropped the sword and caught the rebounding shield.

The shield was already half-destroyed, but it still held its shape.

The Spartian warrior trusted his shield above all else. He planted his feet and braced with everything he had.

But he was being pushed back, inch by inch, toward the edge.

Alexia picked up her battle-axe and strolled toward him with unhurried grace.

"A brave warrior of Spartia wouldn't call this underhanded, would he?"

"Hardly. A valuable lesson. Next time, I'll bring a spare spear."

Alexia raised her battle-axe high above the Spartian warrior as he weathered her magic behind his ruined shield.

The instant the axe connected, the Spartian warrior vanished, teleported out. The remnants of her spell slammed into the barrier at the stage's edge and dissipated.

The crowd roared.

It wasn't unusual for Spartian warriors to claim half the advancement slots in the prelims.

Alexia's upset had been a spectacular result.

At the same time, the other remaining fight reached its conclusion.

The knight in full plate armor toppled with a tremendous crash and vanished.

Judged a fatal blow.

The one left standing was the cute young girl.

She held up both daggers and did a cute little hip-shimmy to celebrate her victory.

"Ahaha. You're strong, onee-san. If we meet in the main draw, I'll have to slit your throat before you can cast."

"… An assassin, I see."

"Oh? You can tell? Hmm."

The girl's adorable face twisted into something else entirely, a shift only Alexia could see.

A cold expression. Utterly frigid.

"Call me that again, and I'll kill you. Tournament or not."

"Is that so. Then I won't. I'd rather not spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder."

The girl's expression snapped back to sweet and harmless.

"You're a smart one, onee-san. Hope we get matched up in the main event."

As she said it, her dagger was already pressed against Alexia's neck.

It had happened in a blink.

The referee intervened and declared the match over.

Alexia and the girl had both secured their spots in the main tournament.

The girl hopped off the stage first. Alexia raised a hand to her neck where the dagger had been.

Blood seeped from the cut.

"The continent's greatest fighting tournament certainly attracts all sorts."

Alexia descended from the stage as well, and the Group 3 preliminary got underway.

None of the three slaves were in this bracket, but had any of them been, they would have been eliminated without question.

It was unambiguously the group of death.

Darz Alanee, general of Spartia and last year's champion.

Cainz Moritz, known as the most courageous adventurer alive.

Alhechhi Dragon, the Dragonslayer from the frozen northern wastes.

Barlkan, a mage who could only use body-enhancement magic on himself.

Any one of them would have been a lock for the main tournament in a normal group.

Instead, they'd been thrown into the same prelim to tear each other apart.

The remaining participants were swept aside in moments, and the fight quickly became a battle between the four of them.

The bout between Alhechhi Dragon and Barlkan ended, astonishingly, in a pure contest of strength.

Barlkan layered spell after spell on himself, transforming into a body rivaling a Cyclops in sheer mass, and Alhechhi Dragon overpowered him anyway.

"Getting big with magic doesn't beat getting big through training."

Barlkan could only stare up at the man who'd said it, slack-jawed.

The fight between Darz and Cainz was a spectacle of a different kind. Cainz attacked relentlessly, and Darz blocked every single strike with his shield. After exhausting every trick in his arsenal, magical tools included, Cainz conceded.

"Of everything I've ever fought, that giant turtle monster was the most impenetrable. You're harder than that."

With those parting words, Cainz left to continue his adventures.

Group 3's preliminary concluded. Darz and Alhechhi Dragon advanced to the main tournament.

And then, Group 4. The prelim for Elza's bracket was about to begin.