The morning sun filtered through the tall stained-glass windows of the Eryndor estate, casting shimmering hues across the training grounds. The second round of trials was about to begin, and the tension in the air was palpable. Nobles milled about in clusters, their hushed conversations brimming with speculation about yesterday’s matches.

  Leon Eryndor stood at the edge of the dueling platform, stretching his arms with a lazy confidence that masked his ever-vigilant mind. Yesterday was just a warm-up.

  He had proven himself to the crowd, but today’s opponents wouldn’t be as easy to dismantle.

  "Feeling cocky, are we?" Celica's teasing voice cut through his thoughts as she approached, her emerald eyes twinkling. She leaned against the railing beside him, casually sipping from a cup of tea. "I heard Gareth hasn't left his room since last night."

  Leon chuckled. "I guess losing that badly does things to a man's pride."

  Before Celica could respond, the steward's voice rang out once more. "Today's matches will test your endurance and adaptability. Each participant will face not one but three opponents in succession. The winners will advance to the final round."

  A ripple of murmurs spread through the audience.

  Leon’s smirk widened. Three opponents? They’re trying to weed out the weaklings early.

  Victor Varen stepped onto the stage, his eyes locking onto Leon with a sneer. "Hope you’re ready for a real fight today, Eryndor. I’ll be watching."

  Leon didn't bother to reply. He simply rolled his shoulders and walked onto the platform as the steward called his name.

  "First match—Leon Eryndor versus Dane Aldrin!"

  Dane, a lean noble with a pair of short swords strapped to his sides, took his stance. His movements were quick, precise, and his narrowed eyes showed the calculating mind of a seasoned duelist. "I’ve studied your movements," Dane said, smirking. "You won’t get me like you did Gareth."

  Leon raised an eyebrow. "Then try and keep up."

  The steward dropped his hand. "Begin!"

  Dane darted forward with impressive speed, his twin blades flashing as he executed a rapid flurry of strikes. Leon parried with minimal effort, weaving between the strikes with smooth, effortless precision.

  System Notification: Combat Mode Engaged.

  Analyzing opponent's patterns...

  Leon's eyes flickered with amusement as he watched Dane’s blade angles shift slightly after each strike. He was probing for weaknesses, but unfortunately for him—

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  "Too predictable." Leon ducked under a strike, pivoted, and drove his elbow into Dane's gut, sending him stumbling back.

  Dane gritted his teeth and leapt back into action, his movements growing more erratic in an attempt to throw Leon off. But Leon saw it all. Every hesitation, every twitch of muscle that gave away his intent.

  Precision Burst: Activated.

  Three phantom-like bullets of mana materialized in the air and shot toward Dane. He barely managed to deflect the first two but failed to dodge the third, which struck his shoulder and sent him skidding across the platform.

  Leon advanced before Dane could recover, pressing his blade against his opponent’s throat. "Yield," he said coolly.

  Dane's face twisted in frustration before he begrudgingly dropped his swords.

  "Winner—Leon Eryndor!"

  The crowd erupted in applause, but Leon barely heard them as his system flashed a new message.

  System Notification: Bonus Objective Achieved—Analyze Opponent’s Patterns Successfully.

  Reward: +2 Intelligence, +1 Agility.

  Nice. Leon stepped back, feeling his body subtly adapt to the newly acquired stats.

  The steward wasted no time announcing the next match. "Leon Eryndor versus Marcus Draven!"

  Leon barely had time to take a breath before his next opponent, a towering brute wielding a spiked warhammer, lumbered onto the platform. Marcus wasted no time, swinging the massive weapon in a wide arc that cracked the ground beneath it.

  Leon danced around the heavy swings, letting Marcus wear himself down. His opponent was powerful, but slow—easy to read, easy to counter. With a quick flick of his wrist, Leon fired a concussive magic bullet at Marcus' knee, causing him to stagger.

  A swift kick to the chest sent the brute sprawling. Another win.

  "Winner—Leon Eryndor!"

  Celica watched from the sidelines, lips pursed. "He's getting stronger with each match," she muttered.

  Victor, standing nearby, scoffed. "That just means he’ll fall harder when he meets someone truly skilled."

  Leon ignored the chatter and turned back to the steward.

  "Final match—Leon Eryndor versus... Elya Voss!"

  The murmurs in the crowd grew louder at the name. Elya Voss, a noble prodigy known for her lightning-fast reflexes and deadly precision, stepped onto the platform with an elegant grace. Her piercing blue eyes met Leon's with cool detachment.

  "I've been looking forward to this," she said, drawing a slender rapier. "Let's see what you're made of, Eryndor."

  Leon smirked. "Likewise."

  The duel began in an instant, Elya moving like a blur, her rapier thrusting with blinding speed. Leon barely dodged the first few strikes, his eyes widening slightly. She's fast.

  But speed alone wasn't enough. Leon’s instincts kicked in, and he sidestepped her assault, firing a barrage of magic bullets to force her back. Elya twirled her rapier, deflecting the shots with expert precision.

  The fight became a deadly dance, neither willing to give the other an inch. Leon could feel the crowd’s anticipation rising, but his mind remained clear.

  She’s testing me.

  With a sudden feint, Leon lunged forward, catching her off guard. His blade grazed her arm before she could react. Elya's eyes widened in surprise, and a flicker of respect crossed her face.

  The steward’s voice rang out. "Winner—Leon Eryndor!"

  The crowd erupted in cheers, but Leon only had eyes for Elya, who smiled faintly. "Interesting," she murmured before walking off the stage.

  Leon exhaled, feeling the weight of the trials lift.

  System Notification: Trials Completed.

  Reward: +5 Strength, +5 Intelligence, New Skill Unlocked—Bullet Storm.

  A satisfied grin crossed his face. He was one step closer to his goal.

  As the crowd dispersed, Victor approached him, his expression unreadable. "Enjoy your victories while you can, Eryndor. They won’t last."

  Leon simply smirked. "We’ll see about that."

  End of Chapter Six.