"Time to draw lots!"
Makarov produced a wooden box at the center of the island arena. A total of one hundred and ten mages had signed up, meaning fifty-five matches in the opening round. Everyone stepped forward in turn, Rowan included.
"Twenty-three."
Rowan glanced around and quickly found the other mage holding the same number.
"…You've got to be kidding me," the man groaned the moment he realized who his opponent was.
He wasn't alone. Similar cries echoed across the island as unlucky contestants drew Laxus, Erza, Natsu, members of the Thunder God Tribe, or Rowan himself. Everyone knew the gap. No bravado could bridge it.
"Please proceed to your assigned platforms," Mirajane announced, floating above the arena with a microphone.
She wasn't competing, making her the natural choice as host. The flattened mountaintop was enormous. Using magic chalk, she divided it into fifty-five clearly marked rings so every match could begin at once.
There were no elaborate rules. This tournament had been improvised in a single afternoon. Refinement could come later. For now, it was a guild sparring match with stakes.
Most participants knew exactly where they stood. Winning the tournament was unrealistic. Even the top ten felt like a stretch.
Lucy did not share that calm.
She clutched her number with shaking hands. Prize money meant rent. Drawing Rowan or Laxus meant instant elimination.
"The first round begins!" Mirajane called.
Cheers erupted from the lakeshore as magic flared across the island.
Rowan vanished in a flash of light.
A heartbeat later, he appeared behind his opponent and tapped the back of the man's head with his wand.
"Sleep."
The mage collapsed.
With Rowan's current control and amplification, anything below top-tier resistance went down instantly. No spectacle. No struggle.
From a nearby platform came the crack of thunder. Laxus had finished his own match just as decisively.
Across the arena, the same pattern repeated. Erza. Natsu. Gray. One strike. One spell. Done.
That was the reality of difference.
For most mages, taking a few clean hits ended the fight. Only someone like Natsu, with a body bordering on draconic, could endure sustained punishment and keep moving.
The entire first round ended in under ten minutes.
"Thirty-minute break," Mirajane announced. "Then we'll draw for round two."
The pause wasn't for Rowan or Laxus. It was for everyone else. Many had fought flat out just to scrape through.
Half an hour later, the remaining fifty-five stepped up again. This time there were twenty-seven matches and one bye.
"I'm number twenty-eight!" Lucy squealed. "I'm sitting out!"
She jumped in place, barely containing herself. A free advance meant she was one win away from the final fourteen. The prize money was suddenly close enough to touch.
Rowan's second match ended exactly like the first.
Another flash. Another spell. Another unconscious opponent.
Near the center of the arena, a familiar voice rang out.
"Requip: Flame Emperor Armor!"
Rowan drifted toward the sound, already smiling.
"Poor Natsu."
The draw had been merciless. Natsu and Erza had pulled the same number.
There was no fixing that. Random meant random. Even drawing Rowan versus Laxus in the second round would have been legal.
That was the cruelty of tournaments. Strength mattered, but luck decided who met when.
Against enemies, Natsu could explode past his limits. Against comrades, especially Erza, he never did. Years of conditioning ran too deep.
After more than twenty minutes of fierce combat, Natsu finally went down.
The crowd roared. The energy of the tournament spiked.
Another break followed, then the third draw.
Twenty-eight fighters remained. Fourteen platforms. Everyone else became spectators.
This round featured several matches that drew immediate attention.
Evergreen faced Elfman Strauss, now confident enough to invoke the Beast King.
Gray squared off against Bickslow.
Levy stood nervously across from Gajeel, memories of their first meeting still sharp.
And Rowan drew Juvia.
She stepped forward without hesitation, eyes burning with resolve.
"Even against you, Rowan, Juvia will not surrender," she declared. "Juvia will shine for Gray-sama to see!"
Her body dissolved into flowing water, becoming immune to physical force in an instant.
Water surged upward, coiling around Rowan's legs and torso.
"Water Lock."
The match had begun.