According to the rules of the first event, the battle royale, participants were allowed to wear their armor as long as it wasn’t a level two or higher magic tool or an artifact. Every knight who entered the competition came wearing the best armor they could afford. Those of humble means wore steel armor reinforced with leather. The wealthy arrived wearing amantir or orichalcum, or even level one magic armor. And yet, what about Keter? He wore only thin cloth, fluttering in the wind. He had no other gear, no armor, no weapons—just barehanded. He even walked with his hands in his pockets, strolling along so casually that, to an unknowing onlooker, he might have looked like someone simply out for a walk. From either side of the bushes beside him, four knights burst out in perfect sync—each a two-star knight whose strength would seem superhuman to ordinary people. But the moment Keter pulled his hands out of his pockets… The knights couldn’t believe their eyes. All four swords had been caught at once by Keter in one hand. Their blades were infused with aura strong enough to cut steel, and they had attacked from all angles—front, back, left, and right—making evasion or defense almost impossible. And yet… all four were stopped by one bare hand. The knight who spoke had his face bashed in by a punch, and then it popped back out like rubber. The other three suffered the exact same attack, each only milliseconds apart. The knights, who flew out from the bushes, were flung back only faster. Keter opened his right hand, and inside were four badges. He had stolen them before hitting them in the face. He flung them into the distance toward the ocean, then continued walking, as if nothing had happened. “He’s heading for the center of the island,” muttered a man who was secretly tailing him. It was Pashian, a five-star Master. He had been ordered by Galahind to cripple Keter, but he remained cautious. If two-star knights were superhuman compared to commoners, a five-star Master like Pashian felt like superhumans to two-star knights. He had every right to be confident—to look down on others. And yet, he had no qualms about hiding and watching Keter. He felt no shame. His instincts as a seasoned mercenary screamed Keter was not to be taken lightly. The official story that he is just a Diamond-class mercenary or a mere illegitimate son of Sefira is all a facade. This guy... he’s a Master like me. Pashian had deduced from Keter’s bare-handed fighting that he was a martial artist. A style I’ve never seen before. It has no specific forms and is free. It almost resembles the martial arts taught in the Kingdom of Adeus. Swordmasters usually scoffed at anything that wasn’t swordsmanship, as to them, the sword was the supreme art and ultimate truth of combat. Pashian mostly agreed, but having worked in the Kingdom of Adeus, he had learned not to underestimate martial arts. “I want to watch a little longer.” Pashian wasn’t in a rush. There were plenty of other knights targeting Keter. Instead, he decided to observe, analyze, and wait—then strike only once Keter was fully understood. Fourteen—that was the number of knights Keter defeated before reaching the exit. However, he didn’t carry a single badge. The mage in charge of the exit flinched as Keter walked towards him. Galahind had also given him an order disguised as a favor: to stall Keter if he tried to leave. It wasn’t a dangerous order, and he didn’t think much of it, but seeing Keter now… He almost wet himself when he met Keter’s eyes. He was perfectly calm, not even angry, but that was even more fearsome. The mage fell to his knees when Keter stood in front of him, but he simply walked past him. The mage turned back to see Keter walk straight past the exit. W-what? Why is he standing in front of the cliff? Oh, maybe he went to find the elixir at the top of the mountain? There was a mountain in the middle of the island, and on top of this mountain that was no higher than a hill was a large field. However, it was quite steep and dangerous to get to the field. Furthermore, Keter was facing a huge cliff that was almost ninety degrees. That was when the mage saw something unbelievable: Keter was walking up the cliff. The mage rubbed his eyes, doubting what he was seeing. He couldn’t believe it, but Keter was clearly walking up the cliff vertically, completely relaxed and balanced as if it were flat ground. “...M-magic? No, I’ve never heard of a spell like that! Besides, a knight using magic? That’s impossible!” No matter how much the mage babbled below, Keter simply walked up the cliff, taking the shortest route directly to the mountain’s peak. From the top, the uninhabited island was laid out below him like a map, and beyond that stretched an endless horizon. At the edge of the forest, lining the mountain’s base, knights had gathered in formation, over forty of them, all pursuing Keter. More than half of Group B was after him. Keter ignored the killing intent surging from all directions, and with a booming voice, shouted, “Before we get started, I have just one thing to say!” His voice echoed across the entire island. Every knight in the match, as well as the spectators, was forced to hear him. “Oh, no. Keter, please!” Watching that, Myle buried his face in his hands. He was terrified because he had absolutely no idea what Keter might say next. All the contestants on the island and all the spectators watching from afar on screens were now focused on one person—Keter. He gathered everyone’s attention by shouting that he had something to say. Tens of thousands of commoners, hundreds of nobles and knights, were listening and watching. Myle bit his thumbnail; it was a nervous habit. “He entered as an independent participant, but everyone knows by now that Keter’s part of Sefira. Anything he says now will be seen as Sefira’s stance.” If Keter made even the smallest misstep, people would drag Sefira through the mud. “It would be better if he just beat everyone up. Please, just don’t talk…” But it was already too late. No one could stop Keter now. Myle just desperately hoped that he would crack some dumb joke instead. Meanwhile, Keter, annoyingly composed, held everyone’s attention, and then refused to speak. He let the silence stretch that was agonizingly long. He’s drawing this out too much… The knights surrounding Keter and the spectators alike were quickly running out of patience. Knowing that this was when the tension and focus was at their peak, Keter smiled and said, “Archery is stronger than swordsmanship.” The world seemed to freeze for a moment. Even the knights surrounding Keter who were exuding killing intent, the audience eagerly awaiting his words, the nobles who were ready to pounce on his every phrase, and the foreign knights observing the level of southern knights, stared blankly at the screen, stunned. “If you want to argue, go ahead and beat Sefira’s archery with your precious swordsmanship.” It was a provocation—a crude, direct one. However, it was highly effective, as knights who had been waiting began charging at Keter instantly. Keter snapped his hand, summoning an Aura Bow into his grasp. It was vivid and clear. It was so perfectly formed it barely looked like it was made of aura. Had it not glowed blue, no one would have guessed it was conjured from energy. He nocked an Aura Arrow. The charging knights tensed, ready to block or dodge. But the arrow wasn’t aimed at them. Keter shot into the sky. The knights were confused. Why fire upward? And why does it seem like the arrow is growing as it rises? “Am I seeing things? That arrow’s getting bigger, right?” “No, you’re not. I see it too.” The arrow soared, expanding as it rose, until its shape blurred, then vanished altogether. It transformed into a glowing sphere, which kept rising, growing further. The knights, moments ago furious, now stood dazed, staring skyward. So did the audience, frozen and not even blinking. Another sun had appeared in the sky. This miniature sun, formed from Keter’s blue aura, radiated its presence. It wasn’t hot like the real sun, but its overwhelming presence numbed every knight on the ground. This was Keter’s archery technique, Limitless Archery, Third Form: Heavenly Rain of Exploding Fire. The orb of aura in the air reached its limit and exploded. The fragments from the miniature aura sun were each shaped like an arrow. Then, a sky-shaking bombardment began. All of this had happened in less than ten seconds. Fweeeeeew! Crash! Kaboom! The arrows in the Heavenly Rain of Exploding Fire exploded as soon as they hit something. They weren’t massive blasts, but widespread, sweeping detonations, blanketing the battlefield. Keter stood with his arms wide open, nodding to the rhythm of the detonations. The island shook. This magnificent bombardment and sound seemed like the entire island was being destroyed, but it wasn’t so. Heavenly Rain of Exploding Fire focused more on exploding than lethal force. Plus, since Keter could only used fifty years' worth of aura, it was almost insulting to compare it to the original. Of course, even this was more than enough to achieve his goal. “Get lost, small fry. Let the real fighters play.”