The Capital City – Tessalon
Deep within the capital, the Royal Palace stood atop a hill.
Its walls were formed from more than twenty interconnected circular towers, rising high and visible even from afar.
These towers separated the citizens from the Palace, while the height of the hill further emphasized the status of the nobles living within.
At the western foot of the hill lay a massive arena, the venue of the annual "Royal Tournament."
These matches were not merely grand festivities, but also a stage for the Kingdom of Avendele to showcase its military might to the outside world.
Amid the bustling crowd, Saelran walked in reluctantly. He found a seat at the very edge, gazing at the vast arena at the center. From his position, he could only see the silhouettes of the participants and the staff moving about.
And even this seat cost five silver coins!
"What a ridiculously profitable business…" he grumbled, eyeing the packed crowd.
As witnesses of a historical event, many might feel the price was worth it.
But!
Had he known it would be this expensive, Saelran wouldn't have come. After all, he already knew how it would end.
Gareth and Serik had yet to appear. Only a few figures inspecting the arena were visible.
To the north of the arena stood a circular platform, higher than any other seating area—clearly reserved for nobles and the royal family.
Compared to the noisy and sweltering sections elsewhere, that platform was eerily silent. The stillness spread slowly, like a bucket of cold water poured onto the crowd, tightening the atmosphere.
Saelran tugged at the collar of his rough linen shirt, straightened his shoulders, and observed without much expression.
Others might not understand the reason behind the tension, but Saelran knew very well.
On the surface, this tournament existed to find skilled warriors and display the nation's power. But in truth, from the very beginning, the "Royal Tournament" had been nothing more than a stage for nobles to flaunt their subordinates and display their family's strength.
Commoners who participated? They were nothing but stepping stones.
The nobility system of the Kingdom of Avendele had strict rules.
Except for the eldest son, the other noble children could not inherit titles. Hence, another honorary title was created: "Knight."
This status did not grant territory, but it was still coveted by younger noble sons. Aside from its prestige, the royal family granted knights a generous salary, enough to ensure a comfortable life.
Of course, this was essentially the kingdom's way of creating a new generation of pro-royalist supporters. The Royal Tournament was a strategy that appeared both legitimate and elegant.
For that reason, noble offspring or their subordinates who performed well were typically granted the title of Knight.
However, in recent years, commoners had begun to stand out. Some adventurers even defeated participants from noble families. This sparked great dissatisfaction among the aristocrats.
And now… Gareth.
Arriving with impressive strength, he carried the hopes of the common people and turned this tournament into a proving ground for their abilities.
"Heh." Saelran smirked. He could imagine the sour expressions of the nobles.
Their only hope was Serik, the third son of a Count. Among the top eight, he was the only one with noble blood.
Unfortunately… he would lose in the finals.
"Ehehehe…" Saelran chuckled softly, imagining their faces after the defeat.
This duel was what later earned the match the title "The Legendary Battle," for after it, the Royal Tournament was abolished forever.
No noble wished to see a Knight emerge from the commoners a second time.
But none of that mattered to Saelran. Compared to threats like the Nine Hell in the future, this was nothing but petty noise.
No matter how dissatisfied the nobles were, the duel could not be canceled.
About ten minutes later, Saelran straightened his back, watching seriously as Gareth and Serik appeared and walked into the arena. After entering, the two exchanged a handshake and a few words inaudible from afar.
Moments later, they parted, creating distance and facing one another.
The cheers vanished instantly. Every gaze locked onto them.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Almost simultaneously, Gareth and Serik shot forward. Though twenty meters apart, only a few steps were needed before they clashed.
Klang! Klang! Klang!
Their swords collided. Sparks burst each time metal struck metal.
"So fast…" Saelran's eyes widened. He could barely follow the movement of their blades.
Clearly, their strength had surpassed the limits of ordinary humans.
The power they displayed was far more terrifying than anything he had ever seen in his own world's battles.
And this was only around level 25?
Saelran suddenly felt immense pressure. A sense of despair, just like what Serik had once felt when encountering Vesveria.
Veseria was one of the Bosses of the Nine Gate of Helldusk and one of the strongest subordinates of Gurath Goat Covenant.
In one incident, Serik had run into Vesveria during an investigation. They fought, but the difference in strength was overwhelming—Serik was toyed with throughout the fight.
Vesveria even used only a single strand of hair to counter Serik's attacks!
Serik survived only by sheer luck. Since then, he became obsessed with cutting off one strand of Vesveria's hair, that was the origin of the nickname "The Barber."
Whoosh!
In the arena, each clash of their swords echoed all the way up to the upper stands.
The wind produced by their swings whistled, making people's hair flutter. Some even gasped when the shockwaves from their strikes brushed past the arena's edges.
Serik spun rapidly, delivering a horizontal slash that sliced the air like a steel whip. Gareth blocked, but the force pushed him back two steps, leaving long marks in the sand.
"Damn… this is even more intense than I imagined," Saelran muttered in awe.
Gareth countered with a quick thrust—so fast Saelran only saw a flash of silver. Serik shifted aside, but the tip still managed to graze his shoulder.
"He's just getting warmed up…" Saelran exhaled.
Whoosh!
A pale blue aura burst from Serik's body. In an instant, he appeared behind Gareth, almost like teleportation.
But Gareth had anticipated it and rolled away.
"Martial arts…?" Saelran was shocked.
Martial arts were the warrior techniques in Oblivion Gate, a form of physical magic. Using them consumed the stamina bar, the same bar used for dodging, dashing, and similar actions.
But because class-based skills existed, martial arts were rarely given much attention by players. Why bother practicing moves that demanded precise timing and drained your stamina, when a single class skill could deal far more damage with almost no mechanical effort?
In the early days of the game's life, martial arts were considered "starter tools" good only for newbies before they unlocked their real kits. Most high-level guides even told players to ditch them entirely once they reached mid-game.
Of course… that was the mindset inside the game.
But in the real world of Oblivion Gate?
But Saelran wasn't inside a game anymore.
He didn't have a stamina bar!
And martial arts—those overlooked moves—were suddenly the most reliable, low-cost techniques he could exploit to their fullest, without relying on any in-game resource at all.Suddenly—
Ding!
A panel appeared before Saelran.
『Skill 'Acceleration' detected, requires basic warrior class. Current requirements no met…』
『Class "Genius" activated. Conversion successful. Learning requirements fulfilled. Consume 1 skill point to learn it?』
Saelran's eyes widened.
"So this is how skill points are used…" he murmured.