"And the winner of the first match is Lira."
Rina announced the end of the match after Ryn chose to surrender.
After a few minutes of stalemate, he had calculated that he could not win, so he withdrew voluntarily to avoid unnecessary damage to his puppet.
After all, neither time nor repairs were cheap.
In a competition where even second place only received a consolation souvenir, letting his valuable puppet be damaged meaninglessly was not something foolish he would do.
"Defeated male leaves, as the entire audience erupted into cheers for the victor.
It truly had been an excellent opening match for this year's competition.
Contestant Lira has brilliantly demonstrated how experience can overcome even her weaknesses to defeat a more talented opponent."
Rina said, resuming her role as host while not forgetting to rub salt into the loser's wound.
Ryn left with clenched fists. For a moment, he really did consider turning back and throwing a "Fire Ball" at her face.
But reason stopped him, knowing the outcome would be disastrous.
He preferred walking out rather than being carried out horizontally.
After he left, someone quickly approached him with an invitation to join a certain secret group. Rumor had it that this group consisted entirely of talented Mages who had once participated in the Puppet Competition…
"While the arena is being repaired, feel free to grab some food and drinks at the stall to the left of the stands.
Anyone looking to renovate their home can reach out to the staff nearby for full guidance and special deals.
You've all seen how sturdy the barrier around the arena is, right? If anyone wants similar high-quality magic inscriptions, please contact…" - Rina's voice echoed continuously.
"The way she's squeezing in ads during the break… she must be getting paid a lot." - A contestant in the waiting room muttered.
The dejected figure of Ryn leaving the arena made them feel as though they were looking at their own near future.
No matter how confident they were, the truth remained that there could only be one winner.
Which meant almost everyone here would eventually have to endure being mocked in the same way.
That was why, although laughter toward Ryn echoed from the audience, not a single laugh came from the waiting room.
Instead, there was only the sound of teeth grinding directed at a certain hateful person outside.
Unaware of the contestants' mood, the center of attention continued enthusiastically delivering more advertisements, making one wonder just how many sponsors had paid her.
After about five minutes, the next match was finally about to begin. Contestants number 03 and 04 were called to the arena.
Hearing the call, Zarek, the village chief's son, stepped forward confidently.
However, when he glanced to the side, he didn't see anyone walking out with him.
'My opponent probably isn't in the waiting room,' he thought.
Due to the height difference, the small child quietly walking behind him fell perfectly into his blind spot.
The other contestants found it rather amusing to see the child following behind Zarek.
Yet no one noticed that despite the difference in stride, the child maintained a constant distance. Even their footsteps landed at the same moments, making it sound as if only one person was walking.
The audience watched as Zarek and the child emerged together, heading toward the pedestal where the substitute puppets were placed.
Everyone wondered who the child was, and why the other contestant had yet to appear—except for the judges, who had been responsible for approving the contestants' magic equipment beforehand.
Seated in the judges' section were Veylor—the village chief's assistant mage—Elder Orin, and Elder Arven, who was also Tris's father.
The presence of three influential Mages showed how important this competition was.
With a stern expression and black hair touched by gray, Arven appeared older than his true age.
Though only in his thirties, he could easily be mistaken for someone nearing fifty.
At this moment, worry was evident on his face.
Not long ago, his seven-year-old son had suddenly declared that he wanted to participate in the Puppet Competition. And now, his opponent was not only sixteen years older, but also one of the strongest contenders for the championship.
"Though it's a bit late, I still want to ask—are you really allowing the boy to participate?" - Elder Orin asked.
Arven sighed. "The boy has made up his mind. He rarely asks for anything, so this time, I want to support him."
There was something he did not say—he did not believe the boy would necessarily lose.
He had seen a glimpse of the child's abilities, and it had astonished him.
The other Mages assumed Arven had personally trained a genius early. Only he knew that the boy had learned almost everything on his own.
He had known his son was different since birth. But only when the boy expressed his desire to participate—and asked for materials to craft a puppet—did Arven realize that not only had he already become a Mage, he had also mastered puppet creation and control.
Arven's worry came from many complex reasons, not simply the fear that the boy might get hurt.
Once Tris dripped his blood onto the substitute puppet, everyone finally realized that the child was indeed a contestant.
The entire arena erupted into murmurs at the sight of such a young participant.
The expressions of the other contestants became incredibly vivid—especially Zarek, Tris's direct opponent.
Even the host and referee rushed over to confirm with the judges once more before allowing the match to begin.
After a brief commotion, the competition resumed.
"Everyone, please hold onto your seats, because the most special match of this tournament is about to begin!" - Rina announced excitedly.
"On the right side of the arena is Zarek, 23 years old. He is the son of Village Chief Zyron and a top contender for this year's championship. Gifted in both Wind and Earth magic, proficient in both crafting and controlling puppet constructs, and with ample combat experience, he is an opponent any contestant would fear.
And his opponent is Tris, only 7 years old this year. He is the son of Elder Arven, who is also one of the three judges. His abilities remain a mystery. Will he bring us a surprise?
Now then, are both contestants ready?"
"Kid, if you want to forfeit, now's still the time. If you get hurt later and start crying to your dad, it won't help. Want me to walk you over to him?" - Rina teased.
"Auntie, I'm ready," the boy replied.
"!?" - Rina's smile froze.
With years of experience, she was certain the brat had done that on purpose (╬▔皿▔)
"Are you ready yet? If you're feeling unwell or have any issues, you'd better say so now. Otherwise, if we start and you end up losing to a kid…"
Turning to Zarek, she made sure to add a little more fuel to the fire
Her motto was: never delay revenge.
"Let's start," Zarek replied simply.
He had to stand above all his peers to prove himself worthy of inheriting the position of village chief. The benefits of that position were far too great—he would never yield it to anyone else.
Therefore, he could not afford to put on a disappointing performance.
And losing to a seven-year-old… was something he had never even considered.