He smiled faintly. And then… he chuckled.
Loud enough for everyone to hear.
"As I was saying," he continued smoothly, as though nothing had happened, "each team will send one representative forward to draw their lot."
I just sat there, frozen, pretending everything was totally fine while internally screaming, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!
Did… did he just feel me trying to check his level? Was that even possible?
Apparently yes.
And not only had he caught me — he'd looked at me like I was a fly buzzing near his ear.
I swallowed hard, feeling a bead of sweat slide down my temple. My Perception skill didn't even register his level. It was completely blocked. Either the system couldn't process it, or he was just too strong for it to even display.
I took a deep breath. One thing was certain — this old man was on another level. Literally and figuratively.
Maya, sitting next to me, tilted her head. "You okay? You look pale."
"Yeah, I'm… great," I said, forcing a laugh that probably sounded more like a dying frog. "Totally didn't just make eye contact with a demigod."
She frowned, clearly confused.
Count Hall, meanwhile, kept talking like he hadn't just nearly flattened my soul. "One person from each team, please step forward to draw your lot."
I let out a long breath and said, "Maya, you go. I need a moment to… reflect on my life choices."
She blinked, then shrugged. "Alright."
She stood up, joining the stream of others heading down to the arena floor — about forty-something of them in total.
Count Hall and the proctors waited as the youngsters lined up neatly. I noticed that some of the proctors had small, glowing runes forming between their hands.
When I heard the phrase draw the lot, I'd been expecting something like pulling numbers out of a box. Nope. This was definitely more magical.
The professors raised their palms, releasing waves of faint blue light that washed over the line of examinees.
One by one, glowing numbers appeared above their hands — translucent, spectral digits floating for a moment before vanishing.
From my seat, I counted as they appeared: one… two… all the way up to forty-two.
The magic then left faint, shimmering marks on the backs of their hands.
Count Hall spoke again. "Each of you now bears your team's number. To link with your teammates, simply touch the backs of your hands together — the mark will transfer."
Maya returned a few minutes later, looking a little more cheerful than before.
She sat down next to me and raised her hand. "Number seven," she said proudly, showing the small glowing symbol on the back of her hand.
A stylized 7 shimmered faintly in gold light.
"Lucky number?" I asked.
She grinned. "Hope so."
She bumped the back of her hand lightly against mine. The same mark appeared on my skin — warm for a brief second before fading into a soft glow.
Ray extended his hand lazily. Maya repeated the motion, and the mark transferred to him as well.
All three of us now had identical golden 7s on our hands.
"There," Maya said, lowering her hand. "Team Seven."
"Team Seven," I repeated with a small nod. "Sounds like something out of a novel."
Ray didn't comment, though I thought I saw the faintest twitch of amusement on his face — or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Count Hall was already continuing his explanation below. "Once all numbers are assigned," he said, "teams will be paired based on lot order. Your matches will begin shortly after."
The crowd stirred with nervous energy. Some whispered, others bounced their knees, a few were already practicing spell motions or drawing patterns in the air.
I leaned back, exhaling slowly. My heartbeat was finally starting to settle after that whole "professor glaring into my soul" moment.
Beside me, Maya straightened her jacket, eyes bright with anticipation. "You ready?"
"Honestly?" I said. "Not even remotely. But that hasn't stopped me before."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're strange."
"I get that a lot."
Ray just muttered, "Try not to slow me down."
"Sure thing, Captain Sunshine," I said with a tired smile.
He gave me a look but didn't bother replying.
Count Hall raised his hand for silence again, his deep voice echoing across the arena.
"Before we begin," he said, "let me go over the rules for your matches."
The noise in the stands faded instantly. Even the birds perched on the arena walls seemed to quiet down.
"Firstly," he continued, pacing slowly across the front of the stage, "no killing. No attacking with the intent to kill. You may use your weapons, but keep your strength and bloodlust in check."
That got a few uneasy looks from the audience, and even more nervous glances among a few.
"Secondly," Count Hall went on, "no heavy-damage spells. I doubt any of you are capable of that yet, but I'd rather not rebuild the arena before we are finished."
That earned a few genuine laughs this time, though they quickly died when he gave a pointed look at a group of overly enthusiastic mages.
He raised his right hand, displaying the faintly glowing mark that now hovered over his wrist. "As you've noticed, each of you bears a numbered mark. When your body sustains a certain threshold of damage, the mark will begin to flash. The moment the system determines you are no longer fit to continue, your proctor will be notified and your participation in that match will end automatically."
He paused, giving everyone a moment to let that sink in.
"In other words, fight smart. Remember, this isn't just about strength — it's about endurance, teamwork, and strategy. You'll be fighting in five matches in total, so conserve your strength wisely. No recovery elixirs will be allowed during the tournament. You'll have to rely on your skills, your teammates, and your brains."
That last part drew a groan or two from the crowd. Apparently, not everyone liked the "brains" requirement.
"Now," Count Hall said, sweeping his gaze across the arena. "The proctors will take their stations. We'll run twelve matches at once to save time. Team One versus Team Two, Team Three versus Team Four, Team Five versus Team Six, and so on. After each round, matchups will be shuffled based on results."
He gave a sharp nod to the waiting proctors. "Take your positions."