The sun climbed higher above Village Ainz, bathing the makeshift arena in pale light. The villagers gathered in tight crowds, buzzing with excitement as the remaining sixteen contestants prepared for the next phase. Children perched on rooftops. Chickens wandered nervously near the edges of the crowd. Even the elders leaned forward with anticipation.
Sirius stood at the center, hands behind his back, his black robes swaying lightly with the morning wind. His hollow gaze swept across the participants one by one. Mana flickered faintly from nervous fingers and trembling hands.
They were still weak, painfully so, but some flickers of genuine talent had begun shimmering through the amateur chaos of the first round. The Round of 16 would give him the information he needed.
"Participants," Sirius called out, his voice cold and commanding, "step forward."
Sixteen villagers formed a loose circle around him.
"Matches proceed one at a time. The same rules apply. No lethal force, no external tools, and no leaving the arena. Victory is surrender, collapse, or loss of control."
He paused. "And remember… keep your mana contained."
Half the contestants nodded so vigorously they nearly toppled forward.
Sirius stepped back. "Begin the first match."
Two villagers, a broad-shouldered man named Brent and a timid young woman named Lulie, stepped into the ring. The crowd went silent.
Brent struck first, thrusting both palms forward. "Wind burst!"
A wave of uneven air shot outward, wobbling mid-flight.
It slapped Lulie in the face like a poorly thrown cloth.
She stumbled, blinked twice, and timidly raised her own hand.
"…Water pebble."
A small droplet formed. She flicked it and the droplet smacked Brent on the forehead.
He shrieked, overreacting dramatically, lost his balance, and toppled out of the ring.
The match was over.
The villagers cheered. Sirius tried not to sigh.
"Winner: Lulie."
The Round of 16 continued.
Some matches were sloppy. Some were pitiful. And some, were surprisingly entertaining.
A boy attempted to conjure lightning but ended up shocking himself.
A woman tried to summon flames and only succeeded in burning her own hair braid, prompting the crowd to panic and dump entire buckets of water on her head.
One man attempted to impress everyone by chanting dramatically, only to fall asleep mid-spell due to mana exhaustion.
Sirius watched it all with unnerving patience. 'At the very least,' he thought dryly, 'they are enthusiastic.'
And then Mira stepped onto the stage for her match.
The crowd quieted immediately. Even the children stopped fidgeting.
Her opponent was a muscular farmer with a shaved head who seemed confident at first. He cracked his knuckles, widened his stance, and inhaled deeply. "No hard feelings, Mira."
Mira smiled politely. "Of course. Let's both do our best."
Sirius's gaze sharpened.
There was no fear in her posture. Neither was there any tension. Just a calm readiness. A self-assurance that did not come from arrogance, but from understanding.
The farmer raised his hands. "Earth ripple!"
The ground beneath him trembled, sending a small shockwave forward. Dirt shifted. Tiny stones skipped across the ring.
It was not weak but it was not strong either. Just reasonably controlled.
The villagers oohed in admiration.
Mira assessed the spell with a single glance.
Then she raised her right hand. Once again as if to prove her previous point, she began with no chant and no gesture. Just pure intention.
A small circle of water manifested around her feet, flowing in a smooth ring like a lazy current.
She tapped it lightly with her toe.
The ring shot forward, splitting into three separate arcs that skimmed across the dirt in perfect synchronization.
They struck the farmer's ankles with precise hits.
He yelped. "W-Wha—!"
His knees buckled.
He toppled to the ground with a heavy thump, arms flailing.
The crowd gasped.
Sirius nodded slowly. 'Very good.'
Her spell had no destructive force. But the control was sharp, the timing perfect, the execution elegant.
She created a multi-vector spell without chanting or overuse of mana, an extraordinarily rare trait for a village mage.
"Winner: Mira," Sirius declared.
Cheers erupted across Ainz.
Mira bowed to her opponent and stepped away, cheeks faintly pink from the attention.
Sirius watched her return to the crowd, his mind already racing. 'That level of control… is innate. Or taught by someone. But whom?'
He stored the question for later.
The next matches resumed.
A few contestants showed surprising creativity. One boy used dust and wind to blind his opponent temporarily, then tackled him out of the ring. Another competitor used a weak water spell to make the ground slippery, causing her opponent to fall repeatedly until she surrendered.
Then came the next contestant who interested Sirius the most.
A young woman named Aria.
Tall. Sharp-eyed. Dark hair tied back. Hands steady. Aura quiet but self-possessed.
She stepped into the ring with natural confidence. She was not arrogant, but assured. She bowed to her opponent, a middle-aged man with trembling fingers.
"Good luck," Aria said softly.
"O-Oh, thank you," he stammered.
Sirius leaned slightly forward, intrigued.
He wanted to see what she could do.
Her opponent made the first move. "Flame flick!"
A small tongue of fire shot forward, surprisingly stable, but not too fast either.
Aria didn't move.
She extended her fingers and whispered, "Mirror ripple."
Sirius's skull jerked up slightly.
A seemingly simple yet complex spell.
She traced a rune in the air — crude, incomplete, but recognizable. A shimmering distortion formed in front of her like rippling heatwave.
The flame struck it.
Rather than reflecting, the spell absorbed the fire, weakened it, and redirected it outward as a harmless flare that dissipated in a puff of light.
The villagers gasped.
Aria wasn't done.
With a subtle twist of her wrist, she released a tiny pulse of mana, a pinpoint wave. It hit her opponent square in the forehead.
He collapsed instantly. He was neither dead nor injured. Just knocked unconscious.
A precise, stunning technique.
Sirius's eyes glowed faintly blue.
Interesting.
"A weak but complex spell," he murmured under his breath. "Absorption, redirection, and stunning… all wrapped into one. Very good."
The villagers were screaming with excitement.
"Did you see that?!"
"She made his own fire turn into sparkles!"
"She's amazing!"
"She's the one! She'll win!"
Aria bowed to the unconscious man respectfully and stepped off the stage.
Sirius's gaze followed her.
Between Mira and Aria… the village had two remarkable talents.
One who excelled in precision and fluid mana shaping. And one who excelled in spell complexity and creative structure.
They could become the village's first true combat mages with some proper training. Perhaps they could even become commanders.
He folded his arms.
Potential assets. Potential leaders. Potential students.
The thought pleased him.
He spent the rest of the round analyzing every match. Some villagers displayed resilience. Others displayed desperation. A few showed surprising bursts of creativity that indicated dormant talent.
And slowly, very slowly, Ainz began to show something he had not seen on his first day.
Promise.
By the time the Round of 16 concluded, Mira had advanced, Aria had advanced, and fourteen other hopefuls had been cut down to six.
The quarter finalists now stood before Sirius, sweaty, trembling, limping but proud nonetheless.
He raised his hand for silence.
"You have all shown growth," Sirius said. "Even in one day, your strength has risen. Your skills sharpened. Your spirits hardened."
The villagers straightened with pride.
"Tomorrow," he continued, "the quarter finals begin. You will rest. You will train. And you will strive to rise further."
The crowd cheered wildly.
Mira stood near the front, smiling brightly, eyes shining with excitement.
Aria remained farther back, arms crossed, her expression calm and calculating.
Two talents. Two very different paths.
Sirius watched them both.
This contest… was becoming far more interesting than he initially expected.
And the village of Ainz… perhaps not as hopeless as it seemed.