It wasn't only the faculty of every academy, the representatives of the Seven Sword Guilds, and the agents of the Neo-Earth World Government who couldn't sleep that night.
The possible representatives, too, including Snowflower, found it difficult to drift into slumber.
Their hearts pounded like crazy.
While almost all of them were confident in their skills, they couldn't help but think about the harsh consequences of losing.
So this was the feeling of having their entire generation's fate on their shoulders?
Then how suffocating was the pressure being endured by the strongest bladeborns of their race?
Suddenly, the Sword Trials weren't all fun and games anymore.
Still, everyone was eventually able to fall asleep and secure a decent amount of rest.
The ones running the world, however, stayed awake throughout the night like owls.
They were naturally tired. However, they couldn't sleep.
The novice bladeborns should be entering the Myriad Sword Realm right about now, and the prompt of the duel event should appear the moment the chosen competitors arrive.
The top dogs of Neo-Earth couldn't be more focused than they currently are.
***
Meanwhile…
Daru leisurely lay back down on his dormitory room's bed and pressed his palm on his faintly glowing sword mark.
This was how a majority of novices entered the Myriad Sword Realm on Sundays, as only B-rankers and above were given Slumber Capsules in their own dormitory suites.
Soon, the world warped into a white void, then to the familiar Sunblade Savannah.
It would be quite some time before he could move on to the next area.
To his surprise, as soon as he arrived, a window suddenly appeared:
[Bladeborn Oma???@!)@...]
[Bladeborn Onimaru Kunitsuna, you have been selected by [The Overseer] as the representative of the human race in the trial event: Clash, Pillars of the Next Generation!]
[You will be facing a bladeborn from the [Vyrrkan] race.]
[Do you accept? Y/N
Warning! Declining will automatically award the win to your opponent, and all bladeborns in your generation will lose a life.]
[59…]
[58…]
[57…]
Daru's brows rose as he read the notification once more.
He was chosen as THE representative of the human race?
There should be SSS-rankers in other academies, no? Why was he chosen?
'Not that I'm complaining…'
Daru was puzzled, but inwardly, he was extremely delighted. Who knew he would get a chance to fight a Vyrrkan this early?
Before the timer even hit fifty, he tapped on [Y].
He didn't even think about whether he would lose a life if he lost.
All Daru wanted was to test his prowess against a bladeborn from another race, thinking about how different their style of swordsmanship was compared to humans.
How about their sword skills?
Meanwhile, as his world warped once more, a massive notification appeared in the sky—one that was easily noticed by the members of the two races involved:
[The trial event: Clash, Pillars of the Next Generation! Humans Versus Vyrrkans have begun!]
[The representatives of both races are now in the duel preparation phase.]
Inside the massive meeting halls of each academy, the higher-ups of Neo-Earth were scrambling, making calls here and there.
They were panicking.
The plan was: the top students would inform the agents watching over them that they had been selected BEFORE accepting.
Then, those agents would inform the principals of their respective academies about the important news of their student being selected, so the principals could confirm that the agents could now hand over the high-tier sword skill talismans and scrolls in their possession to the selected student as soon as possible.
The student would immediately learn and use the sword skill once to familiarise themselves with it before pressing accept.
The one-minute window should've been rather merciful had everyone followed the plan.
So…what the hell was going on?!
Why the f*ck is the selected representative already in the duel preparation phase?!
Like in every other meeting hall, the one in Cluster 4's Southern Bladeborn Academy had fallen into utter chaos.
Instructors and aides paced back and forth, a majority clutching their heads and sweating coldly as they tried to contact whoever they could to help the higher-ups in what little way they could.
Unfortunately, all that happened was someone trying to pin the blame on someone, especially after discovering that all the expected representatives weren't chosen.
"Who?! Who the hell was chosen, then?! Damn it!!" openly cursed Principal Jebroham, disregarding face and status.
They had a lot of good seedlings this year across all twenty-eight academies.
If there was a year they absolutely could not f*ck up, it was this year, and yet they still somehow did.
Big time.
It was the poor tables and armrests that suffered the brunt of the higher-ups' fury.
Then it appeared—the notification that sent shivers down the leaders' spines:
[The duel will begin in 5…]
[4…]
[3…]
They could only watch with trembling bodies and despairing hearts as the timer hit zero.
All those high rankers…ruined…
Until the end, no one could figure out what happened.
They didn't even know who the hell their representative was...