Feng Yun huffed, his breath ragged. "Damn it... this body of mine is too weak. It can't even handle Demon Qi properly, let alone while hiding from the Guild Master."
Sophie stared at Feng Yun's back, her mind racing.
"His form said he was around twenty, and his rank was barely F+. So how the hell did he kill him? No… he didn't just kill him. He one-shot him."
Whispers filled the air, the stunned voices of mercenaries and adventurers echoing the same disbelief.
"How? Just how? Shuan was ranked D-, known for his monstrous endurance. And this guy… killed him. With his bare hands?"
Feng Yun turned his head toward the Guild Master, his expression unreadable.
"So, I'm the winner, right?"
The Guild Master remained silent for a long moment, her sharp eyes studying him.
"This level of raw brutality… at his age? Impossible. Someone trained him. Someone dangerous."
She folded her arms, her voice neutral but laced with suspicion. "Who is your master?"
Feng Yun tilted his head slightly, as if amused. "I don't have one, Guild Master."
A beat of silence.
Her eyes narrowed. "Hmph. If you didn't want to answer, you could have just said so."
She turned to the crowd, raising her voice. "Then the winner of this match is—Leon."
The room remained dead silent.
No cheers. No celebration.
Only fear.
Sophie leaned in and whispered, "Guild Master, your meeting with the king for Ritterfest is today."
The Guild Master blinked before sighing. "Ah, right. I need to go."
She turned to the crowd. "Alright, wrap it up. Do whatever you want."
With a snap of her fingers, the arena shifted, returning to the guild hall—except the Guild Master was gone.
Feng Yun's gaze flicked to Sophie. "So I'm a member of the mercenary guild now? And what's the Guild Master's name?"
"Her name is Rose Fermi." Sophie pulled out a card and handed it to him. "Here's your guild ID."
Feng Yun took the card and left without another word. As he stepped outside, the System's familiar chime echoed in his mind.
[Ding… First side mission complete. Second: Reach D+ rank. Third: Level up your skills.]
Feng Yun rubbed his chin. "Hmm. This body lacks stamina and flexibility. Training it is the only option."
And with that, he left the kingdom.
---Five Months Later---
The Stadium of the Knights of Alex Kingdom roared with life. Thousands of spectators cheered, laughed, and drank, their voices merging into a deafening chorus of excitement.
A man in his fifties, with short silver hair, stood at the center of the grand stage. Before him sat the King, Princess, and Prince, their thrones elevated above the nobles, who lounged on luxurious sofas.
The silver-haired man raised his arms, his voice booming. "Welcome to Ritterfest!"
The crowd erupted again.
"My name is Shin, and I am the host of this year's Ritterfest! For those from outside the kingdom, let me explain. This festival determines the selection of royal knights! Only three will emerge victorious!"
He let the anticipation build before continuing. "The rules are simple. Any knight unable to use Holy Qi is disqualified. Anyone below D+ rank is disqualified. And—killing is allowed."
The tension spiked at that final rule. This was no mere tournament. This was war.
Shin gestured grandly. "Let the festival begin! The first match—Sir John versus Sir Ellen!"
From the left side of the arena, a man in gleaming silver armor strode forward. He had long red hair, piercing black eyes, and a chiseled physique. His very presence made the crowd erupt.
"JOHN! JOHN!"
On the right, his opponent emerged—Ellen, a battle-hardened warrior with scars marking his face. His own fans roared his name in defiance.
John extended his hand with a confident smile. "Let's have a good match."
Ellen slapped it away. "I don't shake hands with losers."
John merely withdrew, his expression calm. "Good luck."
Shin raised his hand. "BEGIN!"
The moment his arm dropped—
CLANG!
Blades met in a flash of silver, the impact sending a gust of wind through the stadium. Sparks danced as steel clashed, neither knight relenting.
Then—a blur.
Ellen vanished.
Gasps echoed. A heartbeat later, he reappeared behind John, his sword swinging down like an executioner's axe.
But John was ready.
His blade intercepted the strike with millisecond precision. Before Ellen could react—
CRACK!
John's fist drove into his chest, sending him hurtling backward. He crashed into the ground, the impact shaking the arena.
The crowd exploded into chaos.
"WHAT WAS THAT!?"
"DID HE JUST PUNCH ELLEN INTO THE AIR!?"
Ellen groaned, blood trickling from his mouth. He pushed himself to his knees, his vision swimming. Fury contorted his face.
"Thirty years of training… destroyed by some pretty boy?"
His grip tightened on his sword, his rage overflowing.
"TODAY!" he roared, eyes burning with bloodlust. "I'LL KILL YOU!"
He lunged.
John moved like a ghost.
A whisper of silver—a flicker of motion—
SHLASH!
Blood sprayed into the air.
Ellen stumbled, a deep crimson line carved across his stomach. His knees buckled. His sword clattered to the stone.
John exhaled, lowering his weapon. "You were too slow."
Ellen collapsed.
Silence.
Then, slowly, John's focus shifted—
To the King.
His piercing gaze locked onto John, unblinking, unwavering.
And in that moment, the festival no longer felt like a celebration.
It felt like the beginning of something far more dangerous.