Demetrius immediately attempted to rise, but he quickly realized that his body would not obey him.
"It has been a long time since we have felt pain like this. Obviously, it hurts a great deal—but perhaps because we have not felt any kind of pain for quite some time. It is not such a terrible sensation. It makes us feel… alive."
Surprisingly, he managed to say all of this despite his broken jaw. Even more surprising was the fact that he did not appear particularly upset that his opponent had disproven the absolute nature of his title of Undefeatable. Aurola had expected at least a trace of anger.
Reading the question in her eyes, Demetrius clarified before she could speak.
"You are wondering why we are not saddened that you defeated us, thus 'ruining' our title of Aniketos, are you not? You truly worry too much about others. Though perhaps that is precisely why you are the Minister of Education."
He shifted slightly within the crater, though he still could not stand.
"It is true that we were called 'the Invincible' after our death. But that title refers to the fact that we never lost a battle while commanding our army—not that we ourselves were never defeated in single combat. The state of never being beaten in a duel began only after we arrived in this world. So, technically speaking, we believe our title remains valid even after this defeat."
The king finished his explanation calmly, still unable to move from where he was tossed.
"But in any case, at this moment, there is something that interests us far more than whether our title remains intact…"
He looked directly into Aurola's eyes. His gaze was serious, yet unexpectedly gentle.
"Lady Aurola, once this tournament has concluded, would you consider coming to our kingdom and becoming our queen—and only our queen?"
Demetrius's voice was as warm as a bonfire and as smooth as honey.
In less than a heartbeat, the minister's face turned redder than the sunset that currently painted the sky above the arena.
The ancient king continued, undeterred.
"We have long searched for someone who could stand beside us in this new life, someone worthy of replacing our beloved wife from our former world. This match has made us realize that we have found such a woman. In addition to being undeniably attractive, you possess valuable skills, a deep knowledge of culture, and a genuine love for learning. Above all, you have a strong spirit—one that protects those you cherish without succumbing to arrogance. Though, in our opinion, a little more arrogance would not harm you."
His voice remained gentle, but now it carried unmistakable sincerity.
For nearly twenty seconds, Aurola's mind seemed to cease functioning entirely. Only after drawing a slow, steady breath did she begin to process what he had proposed. Gradually, the intense blush faded from her cheeks.
"Thank you for your offer, King Demetrius," she began politely. "I must admit… a man like you would not displease me at all."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"However, accepting your proposal would require me to leave this kingdom. I would have to abandon my dojo and resign from my position as Minister of Education. I do not yet believe I have found someone capable of replacing me in that role. Furthermore, I am not ready to leave either responsibility behind. I do not feel that I have done enough—neither for my students nor for this country."
Her voice remained professional, yet it was filled with unmistakable kindness.
A laugh escaped Demetrius's lips—bitter, yet tinged with genuine joy.
"That was the answer we anticipated," he admitted. "Still, remember this, Minister Aurola: when the day comes that you are satisfied with your accomplishments and believe you have fulfilled all that you set out to do, we will be waiting for you in the Kingdom of Avoria."
He smiled despite his injuries.
"We swear upon our title of Aniketos that we shall not die before that day arrives."
"I understand. Thank you, King Demetrius," Aurola replied with a gentle smile.
Pinusal, who had deliberately delayed announcing the winner, had been watching the exchange with quiet interest. From his perspective, they were still young, and he had always had a soft spot for romantic moments between young people—though few were aware of that particular trait of is.
Finally, he approached Aurola, lifted her arm high into the air, and declared in a resonant voice:
"The winner of this match is the Minister of Education, Aurola Battista!"
The stadium immediately erupted into thunderous applause, showering the minister with well-deserved praise.
"Ahh…" A sigh of relief escaped Lucas's lips. "Aurola won!" he exclaimed, clenching his fists in satisfaction.
"With that, once again all the ministers who participated have passed the first day of the preliminaries. I am truly pleased to see how hard everyone is working—especially Macro, since this is his first time taking part in the tournament," Alberia said with a satisfied, almost motherly smile.
"Does that happen often?" Lucas asked.
"Yes, my son. Usually, unless they end up facing one another during the preliminaries, the ministers tend to reach the main tournament without too much difficulty. Especially this current generation, which is particularly combat-oriented. Of course, from time to time they are matched against your little sister, Fortore, Katerina, or some unexpectedly powerful fighter from outside our kingdom, and that can occasionally lead to defeat. But aside from those cases, they generally pass the preliminaries with remarkable ease. My little brother Lucrio's match is a perfect example," Sequoria explained in her gentle, melodic voice.
Lucas nodded, recalling the Minister of Economy's swift and decisive victory. His attention returned to the arena, where the final two participants of the day were preparing to appear.
After the medical team escorted both fighters from the previous match out of the arena, Chiacchera once again stepped into the center.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Another magnificent match has just concluded, and once again a minister of the Kingdom of Yggdora has emerged victorious, confirming that all six ministers will advance to the second day of the preliminaries!
Do you believe all six will also succeed tomorrow? We shall discover the answer during the second day of the preliminaries! But before that, we still have one final match for today—and I can assure you that it will send you home astonished and even more excited for the remainder of this tournament. So let us waste no further time and welcome the last two participants of the day!" Chiacchera announced exuberantly.
Gesturing toward the right side of the arena, she began her introduction.
"The young man about to enter is a beastkin adventurer from the Yggdora Guild, eager to make his name known across the entire continent…"
One of the gates on the right slowly rose, revealing a tall, youthful beastkin—easily over six feet in height. He had short beige hair streaked with orange hues, and rounded animal ears protruded from the top of his head, reminiscent of a lion's. His light brown eyes shimmered with amber tones, their small but sharp black pupils giving him an intense gaze. From the base of his back extended a thin, fur-covered tail, matching the color of his hair but ending in a large tuft of dark brown fur.
He wore light armor that was clearly of mediocre quality, yet it was adorned with so many decorative accessories that it appeared far more luxurious than it truly was. At his waist hung a sheathed sword that gave off the same impression of ostentatious, almost artificial wealth.
"Regone Giovate!!!" Chiacchera proclaimed loudly.
A smirk curved across Regone's face—an expression brimming with arrogance and self-confidence. He strode toward the center of the arena with noisy, exaggerated steps, raising a hand to acknowledge the audience as though he were already a celebrated champion.
"On the other hand," Chiacchera continued, shifting her gesture to the left side of the arena, "the participant about to enter is something of a mystery. When he registered, he requested that his identity remain confidential. As a result, even I possess virtually no information about him. For that reason, I shall allow the fighter to introduce himself."
At her words, one of the gates on the left side of the arena slowly began to rise.
A man—no, a giant of a man—emerged from the rising gate. He stood at least two meters and twenty centimeters tall, his massive frame wrapped entirely in a hooded cloak that concealed every detail of his appearance except for his imposing stature. Strapped to his back was an enormous object, longer than he was tall, completely wrapped in thick bandages. Its exact nature was difficult to discern, but its silhouette strongly resembled that of a colossal broadsword.
'It's the suspicious man I saw earlier in the cafeteria!' Lucas thought, staring at the newcomer with a mixture of surprise and intense curiosity.
The cloaked figure advanced toward the center of the arena with heavy, deliberate steps. There were no wasted movements, no dramatic gestures—only the steady march of someone accustomed to battlefields rather than stages.
The audience fell into an uneasy silence.
The man radiated importance, but not the polished aura of royalty or the dazzling presence of a celebrity. Instead, his presence felt like that of a veteran soldier—someone who had survived countless wars and earned his honors through blood and endurance.
Regone opened his mouth, clearly about to make some mocking remark, but before he could speak, a powerful voice cut through the arena.
"Perhaps it is a little early," the hooded man declared, "but I would say the time has come to remove this cumbersome cloak— after all, those who know me will immediately understand who I am as soon as the fight begins.
His voice was deep and commanding, filled with experience and wisdom—yet there was also a trace of childlike excitement woven into its tone.
"That voice…!" Sequoria and Aislyra exclaimed simultaneously, recognizing it at once.
With a single, decisive motion, the mysterious figure tore off the cloak.
Revealed beneath it was a massive elderly man.
His hair was short and gray with age, and a thick beard framed his face, reaching just below his jawline. His bright blue eyes shone with vitality, proof that the passage of time had not dulled the spirit of this living legend. Deep wrinkles lined his face, and countless scars marked his skin—each one a silent testament to battles fought and survived.
He wore heavy dark-blue armor accented with red details. It lacked the flashy ornamentation of Regone's equipment, yet one glance was enough to understand that, unlike the young adventurer's decorative armor, this metal was of the highest quality—crafted for real combat, not appearance.
Emeralda and Lars stared in disbelief.
"MASTER!!!!!!" Lars shouted, his voice so loud and filled with astonishment that it echoed throughout the entire arena.
Regone, however, reacted differently.
"How fortunate," he scoffed. "My opponent is a decrepit old man. This will be an easy victory."
The elderly warrior paid little attention to the boy's arrogance. Instead, he stepped forward and addressed the crowd.
"Greetings, audience of The Tournament of The Golden Trees. The more seasoned among you likely already recognize me. However, I have not participated in this tournament for several years, so for the younger spectators, allow me to introduce myself. I am Brasto—a simple, and now admittedly decrepit, adventurer from Leore!"
His voice rang with strength and carried the weight of wisdom, yet it remained cheerful and humble.
'So this is the famous Brasto…' Regone thought, his grin widening. 'He may be big, but he's nothing more than a washed-up old man who already lost his title as the best adventurer in the Leore guild. Defeating him will be a walk in the park.'
Before he could savor his imagined triumph any further, Brasto's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Boy, you are a member of the Yggdora Guild, are you not?" the large man asked calmly.
"Yes. What do you want, old man?" Regone replied irritably, clearly annoyed that his fantasies of easy glory had been disrupted.
"Well," Brasto said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "I did not see Primoro participating in this year's tournament. Since he usually competes every year, I was wondering where he might be."
Regone let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Mr. Primoro is currently in the Yggdora Forest on a mission. He's hunting a particular Advanced Mutant Over Beast that is exceptionally skilled at hiding. He didn't even have time to register for this tournament. But enough talk, old man—let's begin. I want to clear the first day of preliminaries as quickly as possible."
"I see," Brasto nodded. "That is a shame. I would have liked to challenge him again. He has always been an excellent training partner…"
He then looked Regone up and down before turning toward Pinusal.
"Well then, Pinusal, we may begin at once. I am curious to see what this boy is capable of."
Pinusal gave a slow nod.
"Very well. It seems there is nothing further to discuss."
Both fighters signaled their readiness.
"Then the match will begin on my count…" the ancient referee declared before starting the countdown.
"Ready…"
Regone hesitantly placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Set…"
Brasto's sharp blue eyes carefully observed every subtle movement of his opponent.
"GO!!!"
And in that very instant, the final—and brief—match of the first day of the Golden Trees Tournament began