I Will Kill The Author

After watching some clips of my Triple Threat match and ego-surfing my name on the internet, I finally decided to check the results of other matches.

Everything played out more or less like it did in the novel, with only the outcomes of the first and second brackets changed.

The brackets were straightforward. In the first bracket, it was Chase Wood, Trish Zenith, and me. Since I emerged victorious in my match, I advanced to the semifinals.

Moving on to the second bracket, the contenders were Kai Wiseman, Grace Goodwill, and Ella Bright. The winner of that match turned out to be Kai.

An interesting thing happened in that match, but I will get to it later. Heh.

Anyway, as for the third bracket, it involved Alfa Zenith, Alberto Okoro, and Amelia Black. I only watched some short clips of this match, but it was Alfa Zenith who emerged as the winner.

Amelia put up a good fight, and I must admit her archery skills have improved a lot. And by lot I mean a LOT.

She displayed a level of strength that exceeded what she should've been capable of at this point in the story.

It seems my interference has once again influenced her to change her course in the plot.

Okay, yeah, that's good. That's good indeed.

That's a positive development, as the more changes occur in the storyline, the greater the divergence from the end of the novel.

Of course, Amelia's growth wasn't enough to grant her victory against the second-year cadet named Alfa Zenith, who also happens to be the older brother of the girl I fought against in my match, Trish Zenith.

Alfa's sword effortlessly cut through any magic or mana-infused arrow Amelia shot at him, as if he was slicing through paper.

After a bit of struggle, he closed in on the black-haired archeress, and the match came to an end instantly.

His incandescent sword, with plum blossom petals swirling around its blade like a storm, sliced through Amelia's bow in a single, decisive slash, and the match bell rang.

"She asked for a legendary-rank relic," I muttered to myself. "Should I gift her a bow?"

Wait hold on, what am I even thinking?

Why would I give her something like that?!

Besides, it was clear she was just joking. And truth be told, I don't have any reason to do so.

My focus should remain on changing the plot of the King's Tournament and then uncovering the mystery of my memories for now.

Yeah, that's right.

"Bro, what are you thinking?" Kent's voice reached my ears from my left. I shifted my gaze to look at him. He had returned with a tray full of popcorn tubs and soft drinks.

Currently, we were seated in the audience stands of the King's Arena, eagerly anticipating the match that was about to begin any minute now. The air was filled with cheers of excitement from the crowd.

Though participants were supposed to remain in the pavilion until the end of the King's Tournament, the lack of stimulation had become boring, so I sneaked out.

I found Kent in the audience stands and decided to watch the last match of the fourth bracket live with him.

To my surprise, well, maybe I shouldn't be surprised by it anymore, Kent was sitting with a group of four attractive girls, enjoying the match in their company.

Haa, this guy.

Anyway, I walked up to him, he introduced me to his new friends, and then went off to get some snacks.

As he returned, his voice brought me back from my daze to reality. I made room for him to sit down beside me.

"What were you thinking?" Kent asked.

"Not much," I replied. "Are you enjoying the matches?"

"Oh, yeah!" Kent nodded with a bright smile. "Especially your matches! You're doing great, and it looks like you might actually win the Tournament!"

Of course, he's enjoying the matches with his harem. How does a dense guy like him even manage to pull girls?!

"Yeah! We're all loving your matches, Lucas! Actually, we're all rooting for you!" one of the girls to my right chimed in, showing me her smart bracelet.

On the display, there was a poll website open. The question of the poll was, [Which contestant do you think will win the King's Tournament this year?]

My name's option on her bracelet was highlighted in blue. It meant that she had voted for me.

But what caught my attention was the percentage. Forty-three percent! My name's option had forty-three percent votes! What the heck?!

Nero's own name was at forty-five percent! Do people really have that much faith in me?!

Heh! They really do love me!

Suppressing the smug smile that threatened to creep up on my face, I slightly shook my head and asked in a flat tone, trying to sound as casual as possible, "A lot of people voted for me, huh?"

"Duh!" Another girl sitting to Kent's left responded. "You're like the newest sensation of the Global Academy. They even gave you a brand new title—Fallen Angel!"

Yeah, and it still sounds so chuuni!

"They call you that because of how you cleverly advanced to the second round after saying something to Quinn and letting you defeat him effortlessly. Also, because of your...uh, cute face, I guess," the girl twirled her hair and added, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

After a few seconds, I raised an eyebrow curiously and asked, "Uh, what about Nero? Did they give him a title too?"

"Oh, yeah!" A girl from the right, sitting next to the girl sitting beside me, replied.

God! Why are there so many people here!

"I think they are calling him the Sword of End," the same girl added. "They call him that because no matter who he faced, they couldn't defeat his sword, and he emerged victorious every time."

Sword of End, huh? Yeah, that's the same title he got during the King's Tournament in the novel too.

People called him that until he joined the military and became William's partner before the world started calling the two of them The Reapers of the End.

Letting out a soft sigh, I reclined back in my seat and waited for the match to start.

Soon, the cadets participating in the match made their entrance. William Sinoath was the first to come out.

His curly green hair swayed gently in the breeze, and his sharp eyes shone brightly with a mix of violet and purple hues.

The young elf looked like a noble warrior, holding a striking red, somber spear in his hand, which complemented his black and red combat attire.

As he walked in, the crowd, especially quite a few girls charmed by his elegant elven beauty, rose from their seats and cheered loudly.

Elijah Steelforged was the next to arrive.

His broad shoulders and strong, slightly muscular yet lean build, along with his rough features, revealed his half-dwarven lineage.

He brushed back his long light-brown hair with his fingers and stood at the center of the arena, his giant battle hammer in hand.

Finally, the protagonist, Nero Dekrauf, made his entrance.

He walked toward the center of the arena with a slow, powerful stride, radiating an aura of unfathomable strength and exuding a clear air of dominance.

His black hair and deep, abyssal-like eyes scanned the cheering crowd as if he was acknowledging their welcome.

His bastard sword rested on his shoulder, its blade glistening under the sunlight until Nero came to a stop and placed it on the ground, its pointed edge striking the earth and digging into the concrete ground.

"Let's get this started," he muttered.