"What?" The girl—Ciara Epilson—gave a slight look of irritation to the moderator who gave her a piercing gaze.
The slight flicker in her eyes seemed to be inviting some form of trouble, as though sue dared the man who was teetering at the edge of impatience and caution.
A second of silence was established between the both of them before the girl finally lost any will to further an argument and quickly calmed herself.
"I think that's enough, don't you think?" Klaus sharply answered, though in a remotely quiet way—almost as though he whispered.
"Hmph!"
"Whew..."
Following their short exchange, Roy crumpled to the floor, happy to have been saved, and the crowd roared in celebration, having the outstanding match etched in their brain forever!
Of course, it went without saying who the victor had been.
"Winner, Ciara Epilson!" Klaus declared.
That was one more win for the Upper Class, making a total of seven victories.
More cheers rang out from the audience as Roy struggled to stand on his wobbling legs and exited the stage.
Since Klaus Tallman had interrupted the march, having seen that a competitor was unable to further the match, that meant the Middle Class had lost. Of course, even without the rules to serve as a guiding principle, the mere sight of the match was enough for the audience to determine who won.
"WOHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" The students of Ainzlark cheered for their goddess.
The winner, Ciara, remained on the platform for a little longer even though her contestant had left.
Her eyes were locked on a particular someone among the other competitors that sat in the elite seat area.
'See? Can you do that?' Was what she thought as her eyes were clearly locked with Jerry's.
With that, she casually stepped off the stage and began making her way to her seat.
Klaus gave a sigh of relief, finally ridding himself of the most troublesome student he had ever handled.
A few students, even amid the cheers and deafening cries of the masses, muttered their differing comments under their breath.
"I told her not to go overboard..." Fabian Lestrome Indiavel gave a glare at the girl who approached without a care in the world.
"Tch..." Other members of the Upper-Class Elites expressed their displeasure purely based on the fact that the gap between Ciara and then had gotten even wider.
"..." There was one final person who had something to say, though.
His arms trembled slightly after experiencing Ciara's power, and even when she finished, the girl had stared right at him—as if to sneer at his efforts to reach an unimaginable height.
"Ciara..." He whispered.
Surely, she possessed more power than he had given her credit for. However, seeing just how overwhelmingly strong the girl was didn't change anything for Jerry.
After all...
"... I don't plan on giving up!"
The boy said this the moment Ciara brushed past him.
It was as if he was telling her with his sister ft voice, not even bothering to stare at the obviously disapproving frown of the girl.
It was clear to Jerry what she had been trying to do, but he didn't need her caution or pity. He wasn't trying to prove anything to her, though the same couldn't be said for Ciara's intentions.
"I will... I will march on!"
His eyes screamed of resolve even though his body still slightly trembled due to the aftershock of Ciara's Mage Mode.
"Hmph!"
With a scoff, Ciara didn't bother giving a proper response and just returned to her seat.
Once she sat, the girl felt eyes focusing intensely from both sides beside her, but from her casual demeanor it was clear... she didn't care!
Thankfully, the tension didn't last very long as the next group of fighters was chosen.
For the Upper Class, a Martial Artist was chosen. He was Rank 3, said to be the greatest at the art in the whole school—well, among students.
How unlucky were the Middle and Lower Class students... for them to have chosen the shortest end of the stuck—as short as it could get.
Immediately Klaus started the match, the opponent lunged into action, brandishing his dual blades and striking both targets—who were Magic-Users—as if they meant nothing.
The Lower Class fodder couldn't even surrender before his opponent's blade reached him—turning him into nothing but an unconscious lump in an instant.
"Winner, Gazef Raizel!"
After this, there were only two matches left.
Jerry gulped the moment he realized his fate. The only two contestants who hadn't gotten a chance to the stage were bad news, so there was no way he would be having it easy.
As he made those worried thoughts, the list was made, and Jerry saw the contestants of the ninth match.
The first name caught his eyes, causing him to nearly gasp—but controlled himself.
Was it finally time? Everyone would be experiencing such a rare sight... a match that would be considered equally phenomenal with Ciara's battle.
Finally, Fabian Lestrome Indiavel would climb the stage!
Jerry sighed in relief, happy he wasn't the unfortunate one that would be fighting.
Upon seeing their names, each contestant stood and took their position on the stage. The second most powerful of the Middle-Class students, and the second most powerful of the Lower Class, all up against the top 1 Ranker in Ainzlark Academy.
The pressure was on, and everyone could feel it build as they waited for the moderator's signal.
"Begin!"
>BOOOOOOMMMMM!!!<
The entire stage trembled in shock, recovering a blast that caused everyone to gasp and recoil in shock.
It took some moments for it to actually register in the eyes of many—except those with extraordinary sharp senses—what had occurred.
Even before the Lower Class trash got the chance to open his mouth, or the Middle-Class Martial Artist could draw his blade... the match ended.
This explosion—caused by the number 1 Ranker—was a mystery, and how it had been cast was too fast for most to perceive.
All the people knew was what they saw.
Ending in nearly an instant, the ninth round belonged to none other than the Upper Class... it was Fabian's victory!
