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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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Thump, thump, thump!
It took less than five minutes for Hitl—I mean, Adolf’s teeth to all fall out.
He had tried to resist in his own way, but unfortunately for him, I was the type who never let go once I bit down.
After I relentlessly pursued him and finally knocked out every last tooth, he surrendered, crying.
“Phew. That was a good workout.”
I shook the blood from my hands and glanced toward the audience.
My eyes met Camilla’s, and she gave a small wave.
I smiled inwardly at the cute gesture and stepped down from the stage.
The next match was Ozma versus Gav.
This was, in a way, the most interesting match-up of the entire tournament.
One was the daughter of the current Demon Lord, Nero, and the other was the undefeated champion.
It was a battle between the two strongest candidates for the next Demon Lord.
After my match, I met Ozma on my way back to the contestant waiting room.
She was walking down the hallway with an air of determination I hadn’t seen before.
I greeted her first.
“Princess Ozma!”
Ozma looked me up and down, then chuckled and patted my shoulder.
“Looks like you made it to the finals.”
I nodded and said to Ozma,
“Yes. Now it’s your turn.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Ozma nodded and was about to pass me on her way to the arena when she suddenly turned around.
“?”
I stared at her, confused, as she strode back and held out an amethyst necklace.
“This was a gift from my grandfather. I want you to hold on to it for me.”
“So…?”
“Give it back to me after I defeat Gav. You can do that for me, right?”
The necklace looked well-worn and cherished.
Ozma was determined to defeat Gav this time, burning all her bridges.
I willingly accepted her request.
“Alright. I’ll see you in the finals.”
Ozma waved and walked towards the arena without looking back.
I watched her retreating figure and then held the amethyst necklace up to the light.
“It’s beautiful.”
I understood why her grandfather had given it to her.
It matched the color of her hair.
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The heat of the crowd was palpable, even through the thin walls.
Ozma, feeling the nervous energy, fidgeted with the Hellfire Katana at her hip.
Gav… he’s still ridiculously strong.
She had participated in the tournament every year since she came of age.
Her record so far: 0 wins, 34 losses.
No matter how hard she trained, Gav was always out of reach.
Whenever she felt like giving up, she would push herself even harder.
She had spent thirty-five years training.
She had become the strongest of her peers, but the gap between her and Gav remained vast.
The stronger she became, the more she realized that no matter how much she trained, she would never reach his level.
She had almost given up when
Kaldrash, the human her father had brought, suggested she learn magic.
Her master had been Vanessa.
Vanessa, who had been wandering the world as a Dullahan after the fall of the Elven Empire three hundred years ago, had been recognized for her skills by the previous Demon Lord and appointed as the captain of his personal guard.
While she usually acted immature and unreliable, she was a true Sword Master when she was teaching, possessing an aura of dignity and power.
Having known her since childhood, they were like family, but she was also a strict teacher.
That was why she had never considered learning magic.
Vanessa, with her strong pride in swordsmanship, had a disdain for magic.
But the magic Kaldrash had taught her was a whole new world.
A discipline she had never encountered before captivated her.
It gave her, a girl on the verge of giving up on her dream, another chance to pursue it.
Alright. Let’s do this.
Ozma adjusted her clothes in the mirror and then strode onto the stage.
“WAAAAAAAAAA!”
The crowd roared.
Some were her long-time fans, while others were simply cheering for a strong contender.
Whatever their reasons, she was grateful for their support.
To calm her nerves, she fiddled with her dark purple hair and stared at the opposite entrance.
The king of the tournament, his blue hair flowing like a lion’s mane, emerged.
Gabriel, the Heavenly Demon Dragon.
The strongest warrior of the Dragonkin and the descendant with the purest bloodline of Tiberius, the second Demon Lord.
The undefeated champion of fifty years was walking towards her.
It was a one-sided rivalry.
Gav probably didn’t even consider her a rival. But to Ozma, he was a clear and tangible goal.
She had grown stronger by comparing herself to him.
Sometimes she was eliminated in the round of 16, sometimes she made it to the finals as the runner-up.
Without him as a beacon, she would have been lost long ago.
Gav, meeting her gaze, extended his hand, a complex expression on his face.
Ozma shook his hand and said, “Let’s have a good fight,” then stepped back.
It was a dream match, a de facto final.
The champion of fifty years versus the relentless challenger.
The epic battle began, the entire village watching with bated breath.
“Begin!”
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Neither moved immediately after the match was declared.
“…”
They circled each other, planning their next moves.
It was a mental battle, a common practice among high-level fighters.
In the quiet arena, where even the faintest breath could be heard, Ozma made the first move.
First strike, first win.
In most fights, the one who attacks first has the advantage.
Ozma drew two swords from her hip, seeking to gain an early advantage.
She usually wielded thin, long swords like estocs, sabers, or rapiers.
Among the super-strong demons, such delicate weapons were prone to breaking, so she always carried spares.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Their figures blurred, sparks flying as their swords clashed.
Ozma, a master of swift and agile attacks, pressed Gav with a flurry of strikes.
But Gav, unfazed, blocked all her attacks with his bare hands.
Their movements were so fast it was difficult to follow with the naked eye.
Gav, seeing an opening, deflected one of her swords and launched a punch. Ozma, sacrificing her other sword, blocked the blow.
“You’ve gotten better!”
“Thanks for the compliment!”
They exchanged a few words, and then Ozma, having drawn a new sword, unleashed her magic, blue sparks crackling from her hands.
Bzzzt!
Ozma’s explosive growth in magic was truly remarkable.
Just a few weeks ago, she had known nothing about magic, but now she wielded it freely in combat.
“Blind!”
She cast a spell that temporarily blinded her opponent and then charged forward.
She knew that ordinary magic wouldn’t scratch a dragon’s hide, so she had devised this strategy.
She used magic purely for support, a common tactic among magic swordsmen.
“Suuh-”
Whirrrr—
Amidst the fierce battle, her rapier began to glow with a purple-black lightning.
Ozma, wreathed in purple lightning, became a thunderbolt and swung her sword at Gav.
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Thanks Xrecker!