It wasn't until late into the night that the players at the Magic Battle Arena gradually dispersed.
Taking into account the financial pressure on commoners and the addictive nature of magic dueling, the arena didn't operate overnight.
It closed punctually at midnight and reopened at six the next morning.
The staff was also split into morning and night shifts.
So when closing time came, even though the players were still fired up—some wishing they could just sleep inside and grind all night—they were ultimately ushered out by the employees.
"Damn it! I was just three matches away! If those idiots hadn't been stalling, I'd have ranked up already!"
"You're still three matches short? I'm just one away! Damn it!"
"Haha, forget ranking up. I'd rather chill in the casual zone—easy wins against newbies, nice and relaxing."
"There are rewards for reaching Silver! Those new Element Cards released today can combo with a ton of other cards. If you get them a day late, who knows what crazy tactics those monsters up top will come up with to mess with people!"
"Exactly! Especially Andy—who knows how his brain even works…"
"But hey, did you hear? Some people who went up to Silver tonight came back down saying it's not that easy to stay there. Apparently, you have to duel nobles on the fourth floor every week."
"Seriously?"
"Several people said it, so it's probably true… But the arena has special rooms—during duels, you can't see your opponent, and they can't see you either. It's all blind play."
"That sounds inconvenient… And fighting nobles too…"
"Anyway, we'll definitely reach Silver tomorrow. We'll go up and check it out ourselves."
"Hey, hey—tell me what it's like when you find out!"
"Just stay in the casual zone, farming newbies. Why do you care so much?"
"Come on! I'll go to the promotion zone with you guys tomorrow!"
The three magic-dueling addicts chatted all the way down the night streets until they reached their separate paths, finally parting ways.
And on that very night, the concepts of "Bronze Rank" and "Silver Rank" began spreading through noble circles.
Many nobles who usually enjoyed magic dueling preferred to play only with familiar friends, too lazy to visit the Magic Battle Arena.
But after hearing about the ranked matches—and being endlessly shown off to by friends who had already reached Silver—they became irritated, envious, and competitive. One after another, they headed to the arena, determined to claim a Silver rank for themselves.
Yet after finally obtaining the Silver badge with great effort, they realized… that wasn't the end.
Because each week, they were required to play ten ranked matches to determine their weekly rank points. If they failed to complete all ten matches or if their rank points fell within the bottom 10%, they would lose their Silver title.
In truth, ten matches weren't much.
Even if every best-of-five match went to all five rounds, that was only fifty duels in total.
If someone was willing, they could grind it out in a single afternoon at the Magic Battle Arena.
But even if they only went once a week, over time, the habit would naturally form.
As long as their friends kept playing—struggling, striving, and competing in ranked matches—it would be hard to leave that circle.
Otherwise, they'd be constantly slapped in the face by others' dazzling records.
And once Gold, Diamond, and Star ranks were introduced, the situation would only intensify.
The people of this world would soon witness the power of a ranking system imported from another world.
…
March 3rd, after lunch.
"Jorina, your skill doesn't affect me."
"Huh? Why not?"
"Take another look at your Character Card. There's a note at the end of your first skill—it only works within a distance of 2. I'm three units away from you, so your skill doesn't apply."
Sitting in the card room on the second floor of the tavern, Jorina picked up her Character Card and examined it carefully. Only then did she realize it was true.
Pouting, she reluctantly said, "End turn… I never paid attention to these details before…"
"Ahem… Jorina, you forgot to discard. You're at two health, so you need to discard two cards," said the serious-looking Huskie sitting across from her.
"…Oh." Jorina sheepishly picked up her hand, hesitated for several seconds, then reluctantly tossed out two cards. "Huskie, you're way too serious~."
When the round ended, Huskie, as the Lord, flawlessly defeated all rebels and traitors, securing victory.
Jorina immediately threw down her cards and bolted. "I'm done, I'm done! Time to work!"
The other shop girls nearby felt the same. Playing Legendary Kill didn't feel as enjoyable as before—it somehow felt restrictive, no matter how they played.
So they all slipped out of the room.
Huskie tidied up the cards and let out a faint sigh. "There's not a single worthy opponent… how boring… Without evenly matched competition, there's no fun at all."
He walked downstairs, into the courtyard, and sat in his usual spot, once again slipping into aimless dazing.
He admitted it—Legendary Kill was a fun game.
But if it were his former self, he would never have become this immersed in it.
After everything he had gone through—the annihilation of his tribe, wandering in exile, fleeing to a foreign land, and the collapse of his cultivation—he no longer knew what path lay ahead.
Rather than continue suffering, it was better to find something to distract himself.
Playing cards with Jorina and the others was a decent choice.
The atmosphere in the flower shop was also pleasant. It made him feel at ease.
Even now, he still didn't understand why that Seventh Prince of the Human Empire had taken him in.
"What are you thinking about?"
Ron's voice came from the second-floor study.
Huskie looked up at the window and saw Ron leaning there—either taking a break from reading or deliberately watching him.
"Nothing."
"According to typical human novel tropes, if you were the protagonist template, you'd definitely be focused on revenge—recovering your strength, training in seclusion, and eventually rising against all odds to reach the Legendary rank."
Ron casually teased:
"Then you'd return to the beastfolk lands, suppress the Seven Red Fang Tribes, unify the Beastman Royal Court, and lead the entire beastfolk race back to glory."
"Well? Satisfied with that storyline?"
Huskie gave Ron a strange look and shook his head. "That's way too idealistic."
"Leaving aside the fact that my Battle Aura Vortex is shattered—there's basically no way to repair it."
"Even if it could be restored, with the extent of internal injuries in my body, I could never become a Legendary warrior in this lifetime."
"And even if I somehow did, there's no way I could single-handedly return to the beastfolk lands and suppress the Seven Red Fang Tribes."
"Even the weakest of those tribes has at least two or three Legendary warriors. How could I possibly stand against them alone?"
"Revenge is just a joke."
Ron hadn't expected Huskie to think so clearly.
But then again, as the young chief of a small tribe, he must have seen a lot alongside his father. A pessimistic outlook in this regard was only natural.
And objectively speaking, Huskie wasn't wrong.
Ron had just been making things up on the spot anyway.
"Still…" Ron's eyes flickered. "If it's just restoring your strength—or even repairing your internal injuries—I might be able to give it a try."
Before he finished speaking, Huskie in the courtyard suddenly looked up, staring at Ron as his throat moved slightly.
"If this is just you messing with me, it's not funny."
"You haven't even tried, and you're already doubting your savior?"
"That's not it…" Huskie choked a little. "But you have no reason to help me. The fact that you've kept me around this long is already surprising enough."
"We just see things differently." Ron shrugged. "I happen to need a sparring partner for my morning training. How about you do some labor for me?"
Huskie was stunned. "Just for that?"
"You can think of it that way." Ron straightened up from the window. "As long as it doesn't threaten my life and can bring me some enjoyment or benefit, it's worth trying."
"I happen to have something that needs a test subject. If you're willing, come upstairs."
With that, Ron waved and closed the window, returning to his room.
Huskie stared blankly at the second-floor window, momentarily unable to process.
When he finally came back to his senses, his expression shifted repeatedly.
Perhaps he thought of his starving tribesmen, or comrades who died behind him in battle, or something else entirely.
In the end, he gritted his teeth and walked toward the second floor of the flower shop.
But as soon as he got upstairs, he saw Nora adjusting Ron's collar, as if they were about to head out together.
"Oh, you came up already. Thought you'd at least hesitate until evening," Ron chuckled. "Guess you're not as pessimistic as you thought."
Huskie was slightly taken aback. Seeing Ron like this, he almost thought he'd been fooled.
Could it be that everything about fixing his Battle Aura Vortex and injuries was fake?
At that moment, Ron pointed to a cup of water on the table. "Drink it. See how you feel afterward. I'll ask you about it when I get back this evening."
Huskie looked at the pale yellow liquid in the cup and asked in surprise, "Just this?"
"Just this." Ron nodded. "You'll know once you drink it. Nora and I have something to do this afternoon, so we're heading out."
"Oh…" Huskie nodded subconsciously. By the time he realized it, Ron and Nora had already left.
He picked up the cup, examined it, and sniffed it.
If Ron wanted to harm him, there had been plenty of chances before. There was no need to wait until now.
At worst, he'd just be made a fool of.
With that thought, Huskie stopped hesitating. Gritting his teeth, he downed the pale yellow liquid in one gulp.
He drank too quickly to taste anything.
Or perhaps the liquid itself had very little flavor.
But the next moment, he felt warmth in his lower abdomen, as if a current of heat flowed through him.
And in his perception, his shattered Battle Aura Vortex suddenly responded—just slightly!
Joy surged within him instantly.
Ever since his vortex had shattered, he had been unable to sense it at all, let alone repair it.
Even when he forcibly cultivated a battle aura using wolfman techniques, the newly generated aura couldn't merge with the damaged vortex.
Because he couldn't sense it.
Without sensing it, control was impossible.
And without control, making the vortex absorb new battle aura was nothing more than a fantasy.
But now, Huskie saw a glimmer of hope.
Yet before he could celebrate for long, the warmth in his body gradually faded.
The connection he had just felt with the vortex seemed like nothing more than an illusion.
Staring at the empty cup in his hand, Huskie felt a hollow emptiness.
He had no idea how much of this substance Ron possessed.
If there was enough, he might truly be able to repair his Battle Aura Vortex and gradually recover his strength.
What he didn't know was that Ron had merely added a single drop of resin into an ordinary cup of water.
In truth, Ron wasn't even sure if the resin would work—this was just a test. If it failed, he still had things like the Crimson-Gold Chrysanthemum and Scalevine to try next.
Either way, failure didn't matter. If it worked, he'd have discovered a new use for his plants.
As for using only one drop…
If Huskie were fully healed in one go, what if his "Beastfolk Observation and Behavioral Analysis"—also known as a boredom-driven experiment—ran off?
Earlier, he had spoken so confidently about how even reaching Legendary rank wouldn't help, about how powerful the Red Fang Tribes were.
But if he regained his strength, who knew? Maybe he'd suddenly get a brainwave and run back for revenge.
So to avoid unnecessary trouble, Ron only used a single drop—planning to slowly restore Huskie's strength, like boiling a frog in warm water.
After returning to the Royal Capital with Nora, Ron boarded a carriage and headed toward the Grand Arena, temporarily putting this minor matter aside.
Today was March 3rd. In the afternoon, the finals of both the individual and team events of the Spring Martial Tournament would be held at the Grand Arena.
Over the past few days, Ron had been focused on the newly launched ranked matches at the Magic Battle Arena, so he hadn't attended the semifinals.
He only knew that Wardson's Royal Capital First Team had successfully advanced to the finals. As for the individual competition, he hadn't paid much attention.
Generally speaking, nobles seeking talent and commoners looking for entertainment were the ones most invested in the Spring Martial Tournament.
The former wanted to recruit capable individuals; the latter simply enjoyed watching usually high-and-mighty warriors and mages fight with everything they had.
Ron enjoyed it too.
But his mindset was closer to that of the commoners—just watching for fun. Aside from a few familiar faces like Wardson or a few particularly attractive young ladies, he couldn't remember anyone else's names.
Over the past month, he had often brought Nora here to watch matches and pass the time.
Thanks to a large donation of money and Scalevine, the Grand Arena had prepared a private box for him, allowing him to watch anytime without buying tickets.
As he entered the arena, he could see advertisements for the Magic Battle Arena and Element Cards posted along many corridors and entrances.
Kiel had absorbed Ron's marketing ideas and added his own genius twists, perfectly leveraging the popularity of the Spring Martial Tournament.
It brought a huge influx of customers to the Magic Battle Arena.
Among the passing crowd, one could occasionally hear discussions like:
"How many wins are you away from promotion?"
"Think you can reach Silver this week?"
"So-and-so already made it to Silver."
If someone was speaking particularly loudly, unless it was just their personality, they were likely a "plant" arranged by Kiel.
Ron even noticed that while waiting for the finals to begin, many spectators were pulling out Element Cards and playing right there in the stands to pass the time.
With some time before the individual finals began, Ron pulled Nora into his arms in the private box, getting a little intimate.
"Boss… let's wait until we get back… mm…"
"Relax, no one can see us from outside."
"Mm… haa… haa… Boss, the individual competitors are coming out…"
Reluctantly, Ron released her and looked toward the arena below, suddenly finding the upcoming match a bit dull.
"How about we make a bet? Who do you think will win?"
"Hmm… the one in white on the right?"
"Then I'll pick the one in blue on the left," Ron said with a grin. "If you lose, you have to take the initiative to kiss me."
"Huh? Then what if you lose?"
"If I lose, I'll take the initiative to kiss you. Fair, right?"
In the end, the one in white lost. Nora's cheeks flushed red as she leaned in—but in the end, Ron still took the initiative.
By the time the team finals began, Nora's lips were already swollen red.