Chapter 126

The conversation running between the group cut off dead.

Everyone stared at Ethan's unyielding stance with undisguised surprise, lips pressing shut.

Mikhail was just as caught off guard.

His breath hitched out of him like a clockwork toy with a broken spring. But he bit down on his lower lip and buried the shock before it could show.

"……"

Behind the expressionless mask, Mikhail's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

He wanted to ask what had changed inside Ethan's head—but the clock had given them ten minutes and nothing more.

There was no time to argue with Ethan.

And judging by the hard set of his mouth, a few casual questions weren't going to draw out what he was really thinking.

So for now… just get the progression back on track.

Mikhail pressed down on his hammering heart. He anchored his rattled composure in place and looked at Ethan.

Ethan had taken the silence as an opening. He was scanning the faces around him one by one, pressing his case with steady conviction.

"Based on what's written on the map, I really can handle every enemy on my own. I won't let it strain any of you. And besides—riding the momentum we've built, keeping the winning streak alive? That's a good decision in its own right."

Ethan's gaze drifted across the group and came to rest, last of all, on Lloyd's face.

"And Lloyd. I know what you're worried about. Staying in peak condition for what comes next, preparing for every contingency—I agree that matters, just like you said. But banking enough points while the opportunity's here? That's its own kind of insurance."

"……"

When Ethan finished, the group exchanged sidelong glances—and one by one, they began to nod.

Before long, voices of easy agreement started popping up from every direction.

"If Ethan's pushing this hard, going west doesn't sound like a bad call."

"Hmm, well… sure! What Ethan's saying isn't wrong either."

Lloyd, meanwhile, tilted his head to the side in a show of deliberation—but in the end, a smirk broke through and he answered.

"Fine. Comfort doesn't always come in the same shape twice. If that's really what you want, let's head west."

The destination for the second stage was tilting toward Ethan's choice.

Ethan smiled, the tension easing from his face.

He looked down at his fingertip resting on the western zone—about to lock in the decision.

"Ethan."

Mikhail stepped closer to the table and spoke.

Ethan's hand froze mid-motion. Every pair of eyes in the circle swung toward Mikhail.

Mikhail met Ethan's gaze as it lifted from the map.

"I'm against it. Going west."

His low voice carried the weight of a hand pulling someone back from the edge. Ethan swallowed and asked.

"…Why?"

Instead of answering right away, Mikhail lowered his eyelids.

His eyes swept sideways across the map spread on the table.

The stiff paper surface.

The symbols and numbers packed tight across it.

If I combine what's written here with what I already know, I can build a convincing argument.

Mikhail pulled his gaze from the markers glinting with clinical precision and looked at Ethan.

He needed to steer this off the wrong path and back onto the right one.

But the kind of knowledge that could break through this situation… wasn't limited to the sort laid out on a map.

"……"

His pulse quickened. Mikhail faced the trembling uncertainty in Ethan's eyes—fragile as a young star—and spoke.

"Because there's no reason to choose a path where you shoulder all the burden alone."

"Burden? No, Mikhail. I'm not—"

"Ethan. If you throw yourself into danger by yourself, do you think the rest of us watching from behind are going to feel fine about it?"

Ethan flinched and went rigid. Mikhail let a breath scatter between his lips and dropped his voice a full tone lower.

"What I'm saying is… you don't have to lead from the front like that. You don't need to cling to doing everything perfectly. And you don't need to prove anything."

Ethan's eyes stayed fixed on Mikhail. The finger he'd been pressing against the map slipped and fell away.

Mikhail smiled at him. Then he turned to face the group and spoke up—deliberately louder this time.

"Am I wrong? Could any of you really focus on fighting with Ethan out there alone in a swarm of beasts?"

"—Huh? Uh, well?"

The group was still blinking in bewilderment, fumbling out reflexive replies, when Lloyd was the first to catch on.

He broke into a bright laugh, strolled over to Mikhail's side, slung an arm around his shoulders, and piled right on.

"Obviously not! How could anyone fight without worrying when Ethan's out there on his own? Sure, he's a bit hardheaded and gets under your skin sometimes—but he's still a teammate we care about."

The moment Lloyd's easy banter landed, voices of agreement erupted from every corner.

"Yeah, now that you mention it… no way we'd feel good about that."

"When you actually think about it… we were going along with it because it was just hypothetical. But if we'd actually watched Ethan push himself like that? We definitely would've regretted it."

Mikhail glanced around the group, pulling the corner of his mouth into a small smile, then leaned over the table and reached out.

His fingertip stopped at a point slightly below where Ethan had pointed—further south along the western edge.

"If we're looking for somewhere we can all go together, it'd be the lower part of the west side. The southwestern zone, shaded in teal. As you can see, the density and number of beasts aren't packed nearly as tight. But…"

Mikhail tapped the symbols on the map lightly, then withdrew his hand and continued.

"The variety of beasts is quite diverse."

He let the sentence hang and fell silent for a moment.

Then he raised the eyes he'd been keeping on the table, folded his arms, and shifted the topic.

"Remember what the announcer said earlier? That there'd be plenty of opportunities to showcase real ability, and that every faction should aim for a comeback instead of settling for their current standing."

The group wore puzzled expressions, but soon enough they nodded along in agreement.

Mikhail wiggled a finger as he continued.

"But right after saying that, he told us selection priority for the second stage goes in order of rank. …Doesn't something feel off? Give the weaker teams the worst options and the stronger teams the best ones—that doesn't set up comebacks. It just locks the standings in place."

Mikhail paused briefly, then pressed on.

"The announcer said the second stage begins with our choice. What that means is the announced objective isn't the only thing being evaluated. Alongside eliminating beasts, the zone we pick is part of the performance too."

The group followed the thread of his reasoning, shifting their gazes one by one toward the spot Mikhail had marked on the map.

"A zone where we can earn solid points while also demonstrating real skill. Choosing a spot like that is probably our best move. And if we're looking for a zone that satisfies both conditions, it'd be the southwest area I just pointed out."

Mikhail wrapped up his explanation and looked at Ethan.

"So, Ethan. Let's go southwest this time. I guarantee it'll be the right call for all of us."

Ethan didn't look away from the gaze Mikhail held straight on him.

He stared back in silence. Then he drew a deep, steadying breath and answered in the same voice he always used.

"…Yeah. Let's do that."

---

The ten-minute discussion period for deciding their destination had concluded, and the second stage of Round Two was well underway.

Germain Lowell—the campaign's host and Guild Master—sat perched atop the tallest structure overlooking the central hall.

"Hmm."

He folded his arms and surveyed the scene below.

Each faction had selected their target zone and was being assigned to their chosen area—the stage's process was already at its midpoint.

They all seem to know their own strengths and weaknesses well. Choosing the positions where they can maximize their scores.
Good. Not bad at all.

Germain wore a mild smile as his gaze swept across the assembled crowd.

His eyes drifted in a slow, horizontal arc—then stopped on one particular group.

But the choice that left the strongest impression…

It belonged to the faction where his troublemaker son Edwin was enrolled.

Salvator Academy.

"……"

Germain studied the members of Salvator's group, already settled in a corner after being the first to finalize their selection.

A team that had shown remarkable performance throughout the campaign.

The combat prowess they'd demonstrated had certainly drawn attention—but this time, his interest was caught for a different reason entirely.

Considering not just yourself, but the other side as well.

Germain recalled Mikhail's voice, relayed through the magic tool just minutes ago, and brushed his chin with a thoughtful hum.

I'd expected them to play it safe—lock down first place based on their own capabilities and circumstances. But that's not what happened. Instead, they made a choice that reflected the organizers' intent. Ha ha… they're going to earn quite a few bonus points for that.

Germain's sharp gaze traced across each member, cataloguing every detail.

Then his focus drifted and settled on the profile of a boy with deep blue hair.

The boy who—whether he wanted it or not—was certain to find himself at the center of attention once this campaign concluded.

Senit… the house that rose from common origins to the ranks of the great nobility on ability alone.

Germain's eyes narrowed to thin lines, and a quiet murmur slipped from the corner of his mouth.

Their deeds alone reshaped so much of the established order. The fact that voices from lower stations gained real weight—that was one of the aftershocks. Whether the Senit name and its reputation can be sustained into the next generation… that'll be a point worth watching closely in the power dynamics surrounding the kingdom.

Germain's broad, heavy-boned fingers moved to tap against the railing in front of him.

Come to think of it, the great noble houses had their eyes on the Senit boy's movements this time around as well…

He was still weighing the implications of what would follow when the announcer's voice rang out crisp and clear across the wide hall, signaling the move to each zone.

"The first phase of Round Two's second stage is complete! All participants, please proceed to your chosen zones! And since this stage has everyone heading to their own separate areas, unlike last time—even if you cross paths, no fighting!"

The voice paused for a beat, then tacked on one more line.

"But if scuffles do happen to break out… well. Sort it out among yourselves! Understood?"