When Finn heard who he and Ashe would be facing, a meaningful smile curved across his lips.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
At last, he would have the chance to face the girl he loathed with every fiber of his being. Finally, he could begin his revenge.
He could almost see it in his mind: Tiffanya, crushed and humiliated in front of everyone.
He promised himself that when the time came, he wouldn't just defeat her—he would make sure she'd never forget it.
A cold, oppressive aura radiated from Finn's body.
Everyone inside the carriage felt it immediately. Even Noah and Marcus shivered slightly as they sensed the killing intent hidden behind Finn's smile.
Ashe felt it too, though she hid her unease behind a steady gaze, watching him carefully.
Finn only snapped out of it when he noticed the tense silence around him. He looked up, then forced a calm smile to his lips.
"Miss Ashe and I…will do everything in our power to win."
Hearing this, the rest of the Soaring Seven finally exhaled in relief.
Deep inside, they were praying—if anyone could win this fight and push their faction further up the ranks, it was these two.
Lore, too, felt a tangle of emotions. Of course, part of him had wanted to fight beside Ashe. But this was Helbram's decision—and he had already accepted that the gap between his strength and Finn's was simply too great.
Besides…Finn had started to regard him as a friend. And for now, that was enough.
Once Noah had finished delivering the news, the carriage fell silent. No one spoke again until they reached the stadium.
When the Cloud Soaring Sect stepped down from the carriage, they were struck by the sight.
The repairs were complete.
The stadium looked even sturdier than before, its walls and arena reinforced with the toughest materials available.
Ascending the stands, the seven factions gathered once more. Some exchanged polite nods. Others scowled without bothering to hide their hostility.
But Finn paid no mind to any of it.
His gaze locked straight onto the Ice Feather Sect's seating area.
He smiled.
Across the stadium, Tiffanya met his stare.
He saw the swirl of emotions in her eyes—anger, hatred, fear, apprehension…and beneath it all…
Excitement.
Yes.
She, too, was looking forward to this battle.
Over the last few days, she had been forced to push her cultivation to its limits. Cornered by the knowledge that Finn and even Ashe were growing stronger at a frightening pace, she had advanced her rank out of desperation.
She possessed the Ice Sky Pathway—her future as a Sky Rank adventurer was all but assured.
And yet…she still couldn't bear the thought of being surpassed.
No matter—she believed that with Hyon fighting at her side, defeating Finn and Ashe would be simple.
Finn felt her increase in power—but he didn't care in the slightest.
5th Level, 6th Level, or 7th Level—whatever she'd reached, it didn't matter.
Because in his mind, only one thing was inevitable:
The fall of Tiffanya Frois and the Nine Ice Family.
He would make sure of it.
--
Helbram's voice boomed out across the arena as he floated to the center, addressing the assembled factions.
"I trust your faction masters have informed you of the matches today?"
All the young adventurers nodded in unison.
Helbram smiled faintly.
"Good. Then let us begin the second stage."
He raised a hand.
"The first match: Azur and Franco of the Sword Seven…versus Gerould and Heriot of the Ancient Seven. You may commence."
A ripple of anticipation swept through the stands.
Azur versus Gerould again—only this time, they were joined by partners.
Though Azur had defeated Gerould in single combat, many believed Gerould and Heriot might have a chance if they coordinated well.
On the arena floor, Azur and Franco stood side by side, facing their opponents.
Without waiting, Azur surged forward, aiming directly at Heriot—he planned to eliminate the weaker target first.
Heriot froze.
His eyes went wide as Azur closed in, his legs refusing to move.
Before Azur could strike, Gerould appeared between them in a blur, his black energy-coated fist swinging straight for Azur's head.
Azur twisted aside, jumping back to safety.
He frowned—he hadn't expected Gerould to react so quickly.
"Heriot! What are you doing?!" Gerould barked, voice sharp with anger.
Heriot swallowed, finally regaining his senses.
"S-sorry…I…"
If Azur had landed that first attack, Gerould would have been left alone against both opponents—facing Franco and Azur at once would have been suicide.
"Tch. Pull yourself together," Gerould snapped. He leveled his spear at Azur. "I'll handle him. You deal with Franco—and be quick about it."
Heriot nodded, his figure vanishing into motion as he engaged Franco.
Gerould's voice dropped, low and steady.
"You think you can pick us off one by one? You'll find that harder than you imagine."
His interspatial ring gleamed—and a long spear wrapped in black, icy light materialized in his grasp.
Azur only smiled.
"You've grown stronger, Gerould. But it won't be enough."
He, too, summoned his silver sword, white energy shimmering along its flawless edge.
Then the two charged.
BANG!
Their weapons collided in an explosion that rocked the entire stadium.
Watching from above, Helbram sighed and shook his head.
"Good thing I used the highest-grade materials this time…otherwise we'd be rebuilding the arena again already."
Cheers erupted as Azur and Gerould clashed again and again, their strikes so fast that only afterimages remained.
In the stands, elders spoke quietly to their disciples.
"Remember—when two evenly-matched adventurers fight, it becomes a crucible. Each exchange hones their skills, pushes them further."
Below, Heriot and Franco were locked in their own brutal duel, neither able to gain the upper hand.
Minutes passed.
Blood trickled from cuts on Azur's and Gerould's arms and faces, but neither slowed.
Then Gerould raised his spear overhead, black light thickening around it until it pulsed like a living shadow.
Spear of Darkness!
He lunged.
Azur braced, but the impact smashed through his guard and sent him skidding backward across the cracked floor.
Gerould didn't hesitate—he charged in to press his advantage.
But Azur sprang up, grinning savagely.
His foot drove into Gerould's stomach with a bone-jarring thud.
Gerould doubled over, gasping.
Azur's blade gleamed.
"I beat you once. I'll do it again."
He raised his sword for the finishing blow—
CLANG!
A massive fist slammed into the earth where he'd been standing a split second before.
Azur leapt back, eyes narrowing as Heriot stepped up beside Gerould.
"Oh? You've already finished with Franco?"
Heriot said nothing—his labored breathing was answer enough.
Azur's smile only widened.
"Then it makes no difference. You're exhausted—and you were never my equal."
He lunged again.
This time, he struck Heriot with a clean slash across the chest.
The impact sent Heriot flying, landing in a limp heap. He tried to rise—but his arms gave out, and he collapsed unconscious.
Gerould made a desperate swing—only to be kicked aside, skidding across the ground.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Sword and spear met again and again—but now Azur was pressing his advantage relentlessly.
Finally, with a sharp twist, Azur knocked Gerould's spear from his hands.
He planted a boot in Gerould's stomach, forcing him to his knees.
His sword lowered to hover inches from Gerould's head.
"You've lost again, Gerould Faust."
A collective exhale swept the stadium.
It was over.
Helbram descended, his robes rippling in the quiet aftermath.
"You both fought well," he said solemnly. "Young man of the Immortal Sword Pavilion—you have proven worthy of your title. And you, Gerould of the Ancient Darkness Island—this is not the end for you. There is still time to grow stronger."
He raised his voice, announcing the results:
"Because Heriot defeated Franco, the Ancient Darkness Island shall receive ten points. And because Azur bested both opponents, the Immortal Sword Pavilion will be awarded twenty points."
Disappointment flickered through the Ancient Darkness Island's ranks—but none could deny the outcome.
More matches followed.
Leo and Juvia of the Soaring Seven versus Segarus and Mavina of the Soul Seven—despite fighting bravely, Leo and Juvia were defeated without managing to fell even one opponent.
They returned to their seats in shame, but Noah and Marcus were there to comfort them.
Then came Brien's match—perhaps the most infamous of all.
He simply sat down, arms folded, while his partner Lina was overwhelmed in two minutes.
And when their opponents tried to finish him off, he dispatched them both with a single strike each—so effortlessly it chilled everyone watching.
Even though he'd technically won, Brien earned nothing but contempt.
Still, no rules required him to help his teammate, so all anyone could do was seethe silently.
Several more matches passed without much fanfare.
At last, only one battle remained—the one everyone had been waiting for:
Finn Doria and Ashe Vermillion of the Soaring Seven versus Tiffanya Frois and Hyon Pierceval of the Ice Seven.