Wednesday, January 17, 18 NE.
A few days had passed since Putri's warning. My days had been relatively normal—nothing changed outwardly—but something still felt off in the back of my mind.
At school, I sometimes caught uncomfortable stares, as if someone was watching or analyzing me. But whenever I tried to track them down, they'd vanish.
I also tried gathering information about what was happening around me by being more alert and more focused on my surroundings.
Putri might have known something, but every time I had a chance to ask her, those stares returned—and the feeling of being watched grew. I considered asking Violet and trying the same approach we used at the park, but that opportunity never arose.
The only times I felt completely at ease were when I was in the Student Council room or at the dorm. Maybe it was because they couldn't monitor me in those places, or their reach didn't extend that far. But that gave me some room to breathe. I used that time to study magic with Violet.
I used to spend that time doing physical training to maintain my stamina and reflexes, but being under surveillance meant I couldn't train properly. I had to stay cautious at all times. These days, all I can do is light jogging and basic exercises.
Those days passed with discomfort—watched, restrained, and unable to act freely. I didn't know who was messing with us or why, but if I ever met them, I'd punch them straight in the face.
And then, the day finally came. The first day of the Closed Tournament begins.
The preliminary round of the tournament was here.
We're all gathered in Arena 1 for the Opening Ceremony.
Even from a distance, I could tell this wasn't some small, casual event. The arena was buzzing with noise, movement, and tension. There were people everywhere: students, staff, teachers, and even spectators.
It wasn't packed to the brim, but there were more than enough people to make the space feel heavy. The stands weren't full, but even the current crowd made it feel overwhelming. The noise, the murmur, the shifting of feet and chatter, all mixed into a dull roar.
Participants were grouped by class and category. Most of us stood silently, maybe trying to calm ourselves or sizing up the others. Some people looked nervous. Some looked like they were already calculating the fastest route to victory. I was somewhere in between—focused, but a bit distant.
A large platform stood at the front of the arena, and atop it, a podium. A woman in a dark blue formal uniform stepped forward. I recognized her instantly, Nikolatte Dale, the principal of Protea High School. Her presence alone silenced half the noise. Even if you don't know her name, her presence is enough to give a hint that she is not just an ordinary person.
Behind her were several staff members: teachers, instructors, and possibly a few organization heads. I spotted Sister Lisa standing tall, arms folded, scanning the crowd like a hawk. Sister Maya was beside her, and the moment she noticed me, she waved—just a small one, but it was enough to make me crack a smile.
Principal Dale stepped up to the microphone, cleared her throat, and then began speaking. Her voice echoed clearly through the arena's speakers, cutting through the noise and grabbing everyone's attention.
"Welcome, students of Protea High School, and welcome, honored guests."
That was all it took. The buzzing crowd gradually fell quiet, and the tension shifted from nervous excitement to something more serious.
"You've prepared for this, through your training, your studies, and your effort. Today, all of that is put to the test. This isn't just about being a student, it's about proving what you've built up until now, and how far you're willing to go on your own."
She spoke clearly, no long pauses or flashy words—just straight to the point. Like she didn't need to raise her voice to make everyone pay attention. Her tone alone was enough to tell us this wasn't just some school event. It had weight, and we were expected to treat it seriously.
She went on to explain the rules, the structure, the schedule; some things we already knew, some we didn't.
There were around 340 participants, including about 40 second-years and club reps, while the rest, nearly 300 of us, were first-years. And only 64 students would advance to the next round. A rough cut.
That number was slightly different from what Putri told me before, but not by much. It didn't change the fact that the majority of us were about to be eliminated.
Some students exchanged glances. Others kept their eyes fixed on the stage, like hearing the number made things real for them. I could hear someone exhale hard behind me. Maybe they hadn't expected it to be so competitive.
"And to those who fight well, this is not only for victory, but for insight. Use this time to reflect, to challenge yourselves, and to uncover what it truly means to stand alone."
Her words weren't just for formality—they carried weight. The arena had gone completely quiet. Even the wind felt like it stopped just to listen.
It wasn't the kind of sentence that lit a fire in your chest or made the crowd cheer. But it stuck. It made people think. It made me think.
Standing alone, huh?
I looked around. Some students stood with arms crossed, some with nervous hands behind their backs. No one was laughing or whispering anymore. Everyone was just listening, waiting, holding whatever thoughts they had behind focused eyes.
Maybe she said that because she knew what kind of things we'd face today. Or maybe she just wanted to make sure none of us treated this like a game.
Either way, it was enough.
No dramatic finish. No illusions. No thunderous applause. Just that quiet after something important has been said.
The ceremony itself didn't drag on. Formalities were done quickly. A moment of silence, a raising of the school emblem, and a quick cheer led by a senior student. Then that was it. No overblown speeches, no fireworks, no illusions in the sky. Just words and expectations.
As the crowd began to stir again, instructions were handed out by the nearby staff. Students began moving in groups, returning to their waiting areas or heading toward the changing rooms.
I stayed back for a moment, glancing one last time at the stands. Some people were cheering. Others were just watching with narrowed eyes, like they were analyzing us.
And somewhere among them, I was sure some people knew more than they let on. The weird stare surveillance, like before, also appears in the crowd.
"Tch… annoying."
I turned around and followed the others toward the prep rooms. It was time to change into my combat gear.
In the changing room, I switched into mine. It was still surprisingly comfortable, even though this was only my second time wearing it. Oh, and I'd brought some throwing knives this time. I also put on my black cloak. It looked like everyone was given physical weapons.
Once we were dressed, all participants gathered in the main arena—the same one we'd trained in before. The spectator stands were quickly filling up with people.
It was noisy. Judging by the equipment and how people grouped up, it looked like some students were planning to form teams.
"Alright, now that everyone is here, let me explain the rules."
The principal's voice echoed clearly across the arena. Everyone turned their full attention forward.
"You'll be scattered throughout Protea Forest. Your objective is to survive until the time limit. You will be considered eliminated if your emblem is destroyed or if you're unable to continue the match. Make sure your emblem is placed somewhere clearly visible."
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the item she mentioned—a golden emblem engraved with the Protea logo and my name.
Gold, huh? Kind of flashy for something that's supposed to be worn during a survival match. It reflected light way too easily. With how dark my outfit was, a black shirt, dark cloak, it felt like someone just slapped a glowing sign on me that said, "Here I am!"
I clipped the emblem to the lower part of my uniform, somewhere not too obvious. Thanks to the cloak, I'd be able to cover it when I needed to, like ducking and covering it. Hopefully, that was enough.
"Alright then. No need to drag this out," Principal Dale said, her tone steady. "Let's begin."
Looking around, I didn't see anyone I recognized. Maybe they were placed on the other side of the field. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. At least I could go hide without worrying about running into someone I knew.
"Take your positions. You'll be given ten minutes to spread out. After that, the match begins."
The principal raised a gun, not real, of course, to signal the start.
"Go!"
The gunshot echoed, and the tournament began. Students burst out of the arena, scattering in all directions.
I had already positioned myself near the exit gate when we were first told about this. So I made it out before anyone else.
I sprinted into the forest, looking for a good hiding place.
"Maybe I should head to the outer edge? The area near the arena will probably be crowded…"
I decided to head toward the outer edge of the forest, close to the border of Protea. That area should be the quietest.
After a few minutes of running, I arrived. A towering wall rose before me, so high it looked endless when I looked up.
"Standing directly beneath it, this 30-meter wall looks infinite. Now, where should I hide?"
I scanned the area for a good hiding spot.
My plan was simple: I wouldn't waste energy unless I had to. This wasn't a war—it was a survival test. Fighting had no point unless I was forced to. Eliminating opponents didn't give points.
So I'd hide as much as possible. And if it came to a fight, I'd try to end it quickly—running would only attract more trouble.
I found a large and tall tree nearby, even if it isn't that much different than others. It looked sturdy and had a good view. Perfect for hiding and surveillance.
I climbed up and perched on one of the thicker branches. The view from up here was decent—I could see pretty far.
While sitting there, I watched the surrounding area. The match hadn't technically started yet. Since I got out first, the others probably hadn't spread out this far yet.
A few minutes passed. Everything was still calm. No one was nearby. A couple of students came by earlier—maybe scouting the area—but didn't stay.
Honestly, I wasn't sure why they left. If they wanted a good hiding spot, this place was perfect. But I wasn't complaining—it saved me from any trouble.
This area was relatively dark. The trees were dense, especially away from the wall, which made it hard for sunlight to get through. It wasn't pitch-black, but definitely dim. The low light gave me an even better chance to stay hidden.
"Alright, the ten minutes are up. Everyone in position—BEGIN!!"
The principal's voice blared from the surrounding speakers. The elimination round had officially begun.
"Well... no matter what happens, I'm staying put."