Leonard, Neville, Glen, and several directors crowded around him, their faces twisted with expressions beyond ugly, dark as the bottom of a blackened pot. Though it was a match against Sergey, the overwhelming favorite to win the championship, they clung to a fragile sliver of hope.
But they never anticipated this. It was a one-sided slaughter. The disparity in strength was simply too overwhelming. None of them truly understood what it meant to face the genuine championship favorite, yet stubbornly, they clung to the belief that "the crown prince is unbeatable."
Yet, how could a participant who couldn't even dominate the Svananóg Star Area possibly compete with Sergey, one of the most formidable Level 2 Planetary Lords in the entire Endless Star Territory? If not for Sergey's deliberate mercy, the Crown Prince wouldn't have lasted five minutes.
The defeat was absolute, there was no resistance, not even a flicker. The Blood-Striped Tiger was beaten and tossed about like a toy by the Wine Panda. In such a miserable, lopsided battle, the Crown Prince could only admit his defeat.
And with that, he stopped at the top two thousand, officially bidding farewell to this once-in-a-generation star competition stage. Between the top 2,000 and the top 10,000, the difference was negligible.
Normally, a student from Hope's Peak Academy reaching such a ranking would be cause for celebration. Leonard and Neville would have leapt with joy on the spot. But that was only if Sebastian hadn't already arrived.
Because Sebastian had stormed into the top 1,000, sealing the fate of the battle for Hope's Peak's successor. When most doubted him, Sebastian had overtaken the Crown Prince from behind, decisively surpassing the one long regarded as the future heir.
"Damn it! Damn it all!" Neville continued smashing his fist against the wall, fury boiling over.
Even Leonard, usually composed and reserved, looked dazed and lost. The Crown Prince… lost? Just like that? To a freshman who had awakened his planet less than a year ago? It was impossible to believe.
The surrounding onlookers exchanged glances.
One finally said, "Sir Leonard, I have something urgent at home. I'll leave first."
He didn't wait for a response, simply rising and hurrying away.
"I have something to handle too."
"I still need to finish a project report."
"I have an urgent matter to attend to."
One after another, they stood and left, like people fleeing a collapsing building. All understood one thing: The dust had settled. Sebastian was destined to become the next successor of Hope's Peak Academy.
As for the losers, especially Leonard and the teachers who once followed the Crown Prince, they now faced the grim reality that they might not even keep their mentor positions. Sebastian's rise hadn't even required a word from him. Given the fierce conflict between the factions, a storm was brewing, an inevitable reckoning approaching.
But Sebastian himself was unbothered by these machinations. The Crown Prince's defeat was within his expectations. As he entered the top 1,000, his expression grew even more solemn.
Because these top-tier contestants… none were ordinary. They were monsters among monsters. Sebastian had seen the battles, Huo Kong versus the Crown Prince, Sergey's units, the Eira's forces, each at a pinnacle level, carefully bred and overwhelmingly powerful.
After reaching the top 1,000, even Svananóg ceased offering guidance. This was a stage where last-minute advice was pointless.
"Go for it, Sebastian, everything depends on you now!" Huo Kong urged, raising his fist.
According to the tournament rules, entering the top thousand granted access to one councilor's discipline and came with significant rewards. And for the top hundred, the rewards were even greater.
Once again, the contenders would be divided into two groups, with only 32 advancing directly into the final round to fight for the championship.
Time waited for no one. The group star competition left no room for rest. Shortly after the round's end, the draw ceremony commenced.
"Just don't let him run into those big demons…" Svananóg clenched his fists nervously. "Against most opponents, Sebastian still has the strength to fight."
By now, no one doubted Sebastian's prowess.
"Sebastian's units, power-wise, few can match them," Bru nodded. "I'm only concerned about matchups like Sergey, Eira, or Jeffrey. As long as the opponent isn't a Peak Super… Sebastian should be fine."
As a Level 6 Planetary Lord, Bru understood strength intimately. To defeat Sebastian, an opponent needed a powerful long-range attack. Otherwise, they'd be torn apart by planes bombarding from above.
Soon, the results of the draw were announced. Sebastian's opponent was a woman from the Río Star Region.
"Ollie, from the Río Star Area. Ranked above 500, higher than Sebastian," Svananóg read her details.
"Ollie commands two races," Bru added. "One specializes in long-range attacks, the other in melee, a highly effective combination."
Bru wasn't especially worried. The Elves' Empire alone could field ten contestants among the top hundred. His focus was solely on Sebastian's opponent, her units and their capabilities. In truth, Bru was captivated by Sebastian's own creations.
"Fortunately, Ollie didn't produce any flying units. If she had, Sebastian's chances would be much lower," Bru analyzed.
Though Svananóg frowned slightly, he knew that in this match, Sebastian's victory was highly likely.
Meanwhile, the Astra Militarum had begun transitioning to a new generation of weapons, the second-generation electromagnetic rifles. These rifles boasted dramatically increased range, advanced assisted aiming features, and built-in intelligence modules, significantly boosting shooting accuracy.
Most importantly, their firing speed had surged. Originally, muzzle velocities exceeded 3,000 meters per second; now, they approached 4,000, nearing nearly 5,000 meters per second.
What did this mean? From four kilometers away, a single shot could pierce a one-meter-thick steel plate, using spiked bullets that had also been upgraded for greater destructive power. Such battlefield performance left no suspense in this match.
Ollie had deployed two races: her long-range units were quickly shredded by Typhoon Fighters, and her melee units couldn't even close, every one of them cut down three kilometers away. The Astra Militarum's coordinated tactics proved devastating.
Once they eliminated the enemy leader, enemy morale shattered instantly. The rest was straightforward, crushingly so.
"Damn it!" Ollie clenched her teeth in helpless fury as her meticulously developed supernatural units were slaughtered one after another. She had no choice but to concede defeat.
"Sebastian? I'll remember this," she vowed, withdrawing from the star space.
Meanwhile, Sebastian had advanced smoothly into the top five hundred.
Those remaining in the top five hundred still had to draw lots. The tower spirits handled the selection, choosing two hundred contestants for the upcoming duels. Svananóg remained composed, nearly certain Sebastian's strength would land him among the top one hundred.
"The top one hundred is guaranteed," Bru joked.
The two hundred contestants were paired into one hundred matches. Again, Sebastian faced no flying units.
"Sebastian is really lucky," Bru chuckled.
"No, no," Svananóg shook his head. "If you were fighting, would you prefer to face flying species or melee species?"
"Uh…" Bru hesitated, then admitted, "You're right. In Level 2, melee races are stronger than flying species. Flying units usually have weak output and defense. They're hard to produce, and their numbers are limited."
This consensus explained why most contestants in this year's Endless Star Territory competition built melee species. But no one expected that Astra Militarum's tactics could counter melee so completely.
There were no surprises in this match. After only half an hour, the opponent surrendered. Sebastian entered the top one hundred, with the remaining qualifiers soon emerging.
This year's Stars Contest saw no surprises or underdogs, except Sebastian. All other top hundred contenders were pre-tournament favorites. Even the Saint Son, known as the strongest freshman, made the list. Sebastian's sudden rise surprised many; for most, it was the first time noticing him.
"Sebastian from the Svananóg Star Area, is he also a freshman this year?" The Saint Son cast him a few more glances, his brow tightening subconsciously. He hadn't expected another newcomer this year to be nearly as monstrous as himself.
"But…" he silently resolved, I aim to challenge the strongest freshman in the history of the Endless Star Territory Contest. Sebastian isn't even someone I need to consider.
Others cast him a few more looks but paid little attention. The most crucial stage, the finals, was approaching. First, thirty-two candidates would be chosen from the top hundred, solely determined by the tower spirit.
Among the favorites, only Sergey and Eira remained calm, while others were tense. Their strengths were so close that choosing between them was difficult.
Svananóg frowned, uncertain how much hope Sebastian had of being selected by the tower spirit. Even Bru watched with serious interest.
A massive projection appeared above the square, revealing the finalists one after another.
Sebastian watched upward alongside the others. Sergey, Eira, Jeffrey, and Augustus, these champions were listed first. Then came second-tier elites like Aya and An, and third-tier names followed. When the twenty-eighth slot appeared, Sebastian's name was announced.
Svananóg's fist clenched in excitement, a bright smile spreading uncontrollably across his face.
"Hahaha, it's been a long time since I saw you laugh that happily," Bru teased.
All names were then finalized, and the square erupted into chaos. These weren't the early-round contestants, among the top one hundred; their strengths were razor-thin.
Some hadn't even used their trump cards and still made it through. Many were frustrated, suffocated by disappointment.
"The tower spirit must have made a mistake! How could I not be chosen?!" a man in black roared, fists clenched in agitation.
Saint Son was utterly stunned. For a long moment, he simply couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had failed to make it into the list of the thirty-two finalists. Originally, he had envisioned himself breaking the record for the strongest freshman in past years, but unexpectedly… he hadn't even been given the chance.
Seeing Sebastian actually ranked twenty-eighth, his heart twisted with unbearable frustration.
"Mistake! This must be a mistake by the Tower Spirit! Even someone from a small place like the Svananóg Star Area can get in, how could I not?" Saint Son roared.
His voice thundered across the entire square, echoing with fury.
"Presumptuous!" A sharp voice cut through the air. It was Volkmar, the one presiding over the competition.
The entire venue fell silent instantly.
"Calm yourself!" The leader of the District, an elderly man dressed in black, paled with terror and scolded him sharply.
Questioning the council was one thing, but questioning the Tower Spirit? That ancient being predated the entire history of the Group Star Council. It was more than just a spirit residing within a tower; it possessed profound power of its own. If it became enraged, punishing him on the spot would be trivial, and no one dared to speak against it.
In the end, the black-clothed elder forcibly pulled him away, preventing the scene from spiraling into chaos.
"Too brash to challenge the Tower Spirit's judgment. Who does he think he is?" Bru shook his head. "If he were a once-in-a-hundred-thousand-years genius, maybe the council would listen. But this kid is only nineteen. His impulsiveness and imbalance are understandable."
Svananóg offered a faint smile.
"It is unexpected…" Bru continued, smiling as well. "That the Tower Spirit chose not him, but… Sebastian!"
"I suppose it's because of Sebastian's exceptional unit," Svananóg guessed.
"That's likely," Bru nodded. "In terms of output, the Saint Son can't compare to Sebastian, nor to Guardsmen or pilots, especially pilots. Those pilots might rival the biggest rising forces. But combined… he's still lacking."
Svananóg exhaled. "Let's hope we don't face one of the five championship favorites in the first round."
"We'll see what luck gives us." Even so, Bru felt no regret. Reaching the top thirty-two was already a monumental achievement. It marked the highest ranking Svananóg had ever attained in the Group Star Competition.
"If Sebastian can push further and reach the top sixteen, he would break the historical freshman record," Bru said.
The previous strongest freshman in Group Star history had reached the top thirty-two but was eliminated immediately afterward. Sebastian had now tied that record.
"Talking won't change anything. Look, the draw results are out." Svananóg stared at the massive projection as the draw began.
The results appeared instantly, arranged by the Tower Spirit, pairing the strongest with the weakest, ensuring favorites wouldn't clash too early. As expected, Sebastian was matched with a formidable opponent, Mok, a top-15 genius from the Imperial Star Region.
"The good news is we didn't draw any of the five top favorites," Bru chuckled. "The bad news is that Mok is from the Imperial Star Region."
Svananóg's expression tightened. The Imperial Star Region was one of the highest-ranked territories in the entire Endless Star Territory, firmly in the top three.
"Our Elven Star Area's average quality is similar, but they have the championship contender Augustus this year," Bru added helplessly. "That alone lets them overshadow us. This match… might be dangerous for Sebastian."
Svananóg understood Bru's subtle warning. In truth, he also sensed that Sebastian's journey might well end here.
Across the vast square, many eliminated contestants lingered to watch the battles.
"Mok from the Imperial Star Region?" Huo Kong frowned. "Sebastian's in trouble now."
"He might have a chance against others, but Mok…" Shia spoke quietly. "Mok's race perfectly counters Sebastian. This match will be extremely difficult."
"Basically, no hope," Otwin said bluntly, voicing what everyone else already believed.
"It's fine. He already tied the historical record," Huo Kong laughed. "Sebastian is now one of the strongest freshmen ever, and coming from a small region like ours makes his achievement even more remarkable."
On the Imperial Star Region's side, Mok and his companions discussed their upcoming match. Their region had performed exceptionally well this year, with three contestants in the top thirty-two.
"Augustus is certain," their majestic team leader said. "As for you, Mok, your opponent is Sebastian from Svananóg. Just don't get careless, and the match is yours."
"Don't worry. The difference in strength is huge. I'll crush this freshman's dreams of breaking records," Mok replied, relaxed and confident. "Augustus, see you in ten minutes."
The group laughed. For Mok, defeating a freshman from a remote region in ten minutes was a conservative estimate, depending only on whether he bothered to end it quickly. And indeed, ten minutes later, the match ended prematurely. But the outcome shocked everyone: Mok was the one defeated.
Because in this battle, for the first time, the Astra Militarum deployed a super-weapon that had taken decades to develop, and its destructive power was even… greater than that of a missile.