"Thank goodness, Pinusal made it in time…" said Sequoria, finally releasing the anxiety that had been building within her since the very beginning of the match between Buio and Edma.
Both she and Lucas let out a cathartic sigh of relief—one that had been lodged in their throats since the start of the fight. They trusted Pinusal, but the fear that what had happened to Marco the day before might repeat itself had weighed heavily on their minds. Now, with the referee's declaration, that burden was finally lifted from both the queen and the former queen.
Aislyra, on the other hand, had been ready to intervene until just a few seconds earlier—even if doing so would have meant her disqualification. But thanks to Pinusal's swift action, she had calmed down and taken her seat again. Still, as her gaze remained fixed on Edma, Lucas noticed a faint trace of sadness in her eyes.
A bored and irritated "Tch" escaped Buio's lips.
"Damn it… I swung my sword faster than usual, hoping you wouldn't make it in time, but it seems you've learned from your previous mistake, referee," the Dark Knight added, clearly dissatisfied.
Pinusal, still gripping Buio's "flaming" sword tightly with one hand—while the flame-shaped darkness slowly crept over his fingers and began spreading along his arm—replied calmly:
"If you wish to continue what you were about to do to Lady Edma, Mr. Buio, I have no objection. I will simply disqualify you from the tournament."
His voice remained professional, but a clear edge of threat ran beneath it.
"And if even that is not enough to dissuade you," he continued, "then I am prepared to confront you directly and remove your existence from this continent. At that point, you would be nothing more than a criminal attempting to harm a citizen of this kingdom."
His grip tightened slightly.
"So I advise you to immediately deactivate the two dangerous spells you still have active."
A short laugh escaped Buio.
"Relax, referee. I'm not foolish enough to pick a fight with you. I know exactly how strong you are, and I have no intention of testing that," he replied, though his tone remained laced with arrogance.
Moments later, the flame-like darkness vanished from both Buio's sword and Pinusal's arm. The arena floor returned to its normal color, the oppressive blackness receding completely. The only spell still active was the Dark Hand beneath Buio, keeping him suspended above the ground.
Seeing this, Pinusal released the blade, though he remained on guard.
Buio sheathed his sword and commanded the Dark Hand to lower him back down.
At the same time, with both hands now free, Pinusal gently took Edma into his arms to bring her safely to the ground.
But as they descended, a broken voice reached his ears.
"WHY DID YOU STOP HIM ONLY THIS TIME?!" Edma cried, tears streaming down her face. "If he had killed me, at least I could have gone to where Marco is—with honor!!!!!"
Her tears carried not only grief, but fury—an anger now directed squarely at Pinusal.
At first, he did not respond.
Once they reached the ground, he simply set her down with the utmost care.
Nearby, having no interest in the exchange, Buio turned and began walking toward one of the gates that would lead him out of the arena field.
But Edma could not accept the silence.
Not from the man who had failed to save her lover.
With a sudden, violent motion, she grabbed Pinusal by his robes and pulled him closer. Tears of rage streamed down her face as she shouted:
"WHY?!!!"
Then, her voice trembling with bitterness, she added:
"Just like that murderer… do you enjoy watching people suffer?!!"
Pinusal did not resist her outburst.
He accepted it.
Then, in a voice filled with wisdom, kindness, and quiet gravity—yet undeniably touched by guilt—he answered:
"Lady Edma… I will not deny it. My lack of preparation contributed to Mr. Marco's death. For that, I bear part of the responsibility. You may say whatever you wish to me, and you are free to hate me as much as you like."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"But as someone who has lived far longer than you, I must tell you this—today is still too soon for you to throw your life away."
His tone softened, though it remained firm.
"Not only because I am certain this is not what Mr. Marco would have wanted… but also because you still have your entire life ahead of you. You will meet many people—new friends, new companions, perhaps even new loves—each with their own unique importance in your life."
He shook his head slightly.
"I am not telling you to replace him. That is not possible. Nor should it be your goal. Marco will always live within you."
His gaze met hers.
"What I am saying is that, in time, you may find others who hold a place in your heart that is different—but equally meaningful."
"That is why I stopped this match."
His voice grew firmer.
"Because it is too soon for you to die."
A faint sigh escaped him.
"I understand that this decision may seem selfish. But as the referee of this tournament, I have been entrusted with full authority over its outcomes—just as I have been since the very first Tournament of the Golden Trees."
"And as long as I hold this position, I will continue to make those decisions—respecting the rules, yes, but above all, following what my experience and my heart tell me."
He looked at her steadily.
"And both told me the same thing."
"For you, Lady Edma… it is still too soon to die."
Edma understood, at least with her mind, that it had never been Pinusal's intention to let Marco die. And from the tone of his voice and the firmness of his yet gentle gaze, she could tell that his words were meant for her own good.
But her heart… could not yet forgive him.
"I haven't given up yet!" Edma shouted, her voice filled with anger, yet trembling.
With a violent motion, she shoved Pinusal away by his robes and, without another word—her face twisted with pain—turned and left the arena.
Pinusal watched her go, his eyes filled with concern.
By the time both Buio and Edma had completely exited the arena, Chiacchera returned to the center of the field.
"Well then, ladies and gentlemen, what you've just witnessed was the final match of the day! I hope you enjoyed it. Personally, I would have preferred to see Edma win, but I must admit that compared to Buio's match yesterday, this was a far more enjoyable spectacle. Don't you agree?" Chiacchera began enthusiastically, addressing the crowd.
A powerful, almost unanimous "YES!" echoed throughout the stands.
"And in my opinion, that was all thanks to the intervention of our fantastic referee, Pinusal, who stopped the match before another gruesome tragedy like yesterday's could occur. So don't you think he deserves a big round of applause as well?" she continued.
For a brief moment, the audience hesitated in surprise.
Then, as if on cue, the stands erupted into a warm wave of applause.
"Chiacchera…?" Pinusal murmured, slightly embarrassed. He didn't believe he deserved it—not after what had happened the day before.
"Be quiet and accept it," Chiacchera whispered under her breath so that only he could hear. "You can think whatever you want, but you deserve this, Mr. Pinusal…"
She paused for a moment, then flashed him a radiant smile.
"And if you really can't accept it," she added softly, "then just consider it a thank-you for saving me earlier, when I was about to be swallowed by that spell."
Pinusal let out a quiet sigh.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"All right, young lady," he replied, before turning toward the audience and raising a hand in acknowledgment, accepting the applause at last.
Once the clapping subsided, Chiacchera resumed her role as announcer.
"As I mentioned earlier, the match between Buio and Edma marked the end of the preliminaries. And so, this surprisingly brief second day of the Tournament of the Golden Trees to a close. Starting tomorrow, the sixteen fighters who successfully passed both days of the preliminaries will face each other in the first round of the main tournament!" she declared, her excitement still brimming over.
"But before we get there, I think it's only right to take a moment to review exactly who these sixteen formidable contenders are!"
The moment she finished speaking, two glowing brown magic circles appeared behind her, spaced about three meters apart. From them rose two short pillars of earth, and between them materialized a massive sheet resembling a theater screen.
Almost immediately afterward, two pairs of guards entered the arena, each carrying an identical device resembling a steampunk-style projector. They positioned the machines in front of either side of the large screen.
After glancing at both projectors, Chiacchera said, "Everything is ready—it's time to begin!" Then she started listing the participants.
"The first person who won in this tournament was the Minister of Defense: Scuro!"
As she spoke, the four guards lowered a lever on the strange devices. From the front—where a large lens was embedded—a blue light burst forth, projecting a full-color image of Scuro onto both sides of the massive sheet.
Then Chiacchera moved on to the second participant.
"The best Ranger: Emeralda Ventora!"
Once again, the same process repeated itself. A vivid image of Emeralda appeared on the screen. And so it continued, one after another, as the presenter's commanding voice echoed through the arena, announcing each of the remaining fourteen participants.
"The hero of Leore: Gaius Julius Caesar!"
"The Icy Princess: Aislyra Elenlora!"
"The Exiled Hero: Shinmen Musashi no Kami Fujiwara no Harunobu, also known as Miyamoto Musashi!"
"The Minister of Health: Heve Flamente!"
"The Minister of Agriculture and prodigy of the Falling Leaf Style: Agratà Presa!"
"The Black Pit and vice-captain of the Dark Knights: Buio Raguidel!"
"The Mobile Armory: Roterberg Waffen!"
"The captain of the Royal Knights and the strongest knight: Fortore Biancqua!"
"One of the best mages in the Kingdom of Yggdora and the queen's personal maid: Katerina!"
"The Minister of Economy: Lucrio Elenlora!"
"Leore's new highest-ranking adventurer: Enea Draghi!"
"The Minister of Technology: Macro Basento!"
"The Minister of Education and master of the Falling Leaf Style: Aurola Battista!"
"And last but certainly not least, participating in tomorrow's matches is the human who has held the title of Leore's greatest adventurer for a full forty years: Brasto!"
With nearly every announcement, the arena erupted into cheers—each name greeted with excitement so intense it felt as though the matches might begin at any moment.
Chiacchera's voice rose even higher, brimming with enthusiasm.
"These are the sixteen participants who will take to the arena again tomorrow—this time facing each other! Considering the level of the fighters who've made it this far, I'm certain there won't be a single dull match. So be sure to arrive on time so you don't miss a thing—and to find out who will face whom!"
She paused for dramatic effect.
"That's right—the tournament bracket will be revealed tomorrow morning, right here, in front of all the participants!"
Another brief pause.
"And with that, I've said everything I needed to say. I hereby declare the preliminaries of this edition of the the Tournament of the Golden Trees… officially over!!!!!"
And so, the second day of the tournament came to an end—brief, yet marked by a handful of truly memorable gems. It concluded even before noon, leaving the rest of the day free for the participants to rest and prepare for what would undoubtedly be far more intense and brutal battles to come.
"Too bad Uncle Luvrio couldn't make it today…" Lucas said with a small sigh as he rose from the elegant, luxurious armchair where he had been seated.
By now, Lucas had spent some time with Luvrio and had come to see him as a genuinely kind and admirable person. Despite being a member of the royal family—someone who could easily live without ever working—Luvrio constantly supported the ministers in their duties. That alone had earned him a great deal of Lucas's respect.
In fact, Luvrio had become the very image of the "perfect uncle" in Lucas's mind—something he had never truly experienced in his previous life, given his strained relationships with his own relatives. It was precisely for that reason that Lucas wanted to spend more time talking with him.
"Don't worry, son," Sequoria said confidently as she stood up as well. "I'm sure that now that the main tournament is about to begin, he'll definitely come watch the matches with us starting tomorrow."
Aislyra and Katerina nodded in agreement.
"I hope so," Lucas replied with a small smile.
Then the four of them left the royal cabin together, heading off to rest and prepare for the following day.
Meanwhile, in Caesar's room, all the members of Leore's Hero Party had gathered.
Their captain—the Hero himself—seemed just about ready to ask his companions a question.