Chapter 538: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: End of the Eighth Round

Willow’s crimson eyes darted toward Ezra.

The young Gun Alchemist was sitting calmly on the damaged platform, one knee slightly raised while the other leg rested against the ground. Parts of the platform around him had been carved apart by Willow’s Crimson Blood Webs, leaving long, clean cuts across the stone surface.

Some sections were now getting covered in thin layers of snow falling gently down.

Others had been reduced to broken pieces of stone that were scattered around the two Young Alchemists.

The air still carried traces of the battle.

There was the faint smell of smoke from the explosions.

The sharp scent of blood remained around Willow.

Tiny particles of the M38 SDMRs that had disappeared moments ago were still fading from the battlefield, drifting away like small points of light whenever the wind passed through the Arena.

Ezra was breathing heavily.

His chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing after forcing his body through the strain of Alchemy Overload. Blood still ran slowly from his nose, while a thin trail had also appeared beneath one of his eyes.

Yet his expression remained almost the same as always.

Plain and calm.

As if the fight hadn’t just reached a point where both Young Alchemists had nearly emptied themselves of Cognis.

Willow continued staring at him.

Around them, the entire Arena had already fallen into loud conversation.

The spectators were still trying to understand what had happened.

Some were discussing the strange silence of Ezra’s gunshots.

Others were arguing about how he had managed to use Alchemy Overload to push the M38 SDMRs to such a level that even few High-ranking Alchemists had almost failed to perceive the attack.

The four Holographic Screens above the Arena continued displaying different angles of the fight, although the spectators had not yet been given the full replay.

Everyone was still talking.

But Willow’s attention remained on Ezra.

She narrowed her crimson eyes.

"Why didn’t you slam me into the ground to knock me out?"

Ezra looked toward her.

His expression didn’t change.

"Are you a non-sexual masochist?"

"Excuse me."

Willow flinched.

It was only a small reaction, but for someone with such a serious expression, it was obvious.

Her narrowed eyes widened for a moment in surprise before her expression quickly changed into annoyance.

"No... I’m not."

She frowned.

"I’m just saying, wouldn’t it be better if you knocked me unconscious to strengthen your win? What if I suddenly got back up and was still ready to fight?"

Her tone became serious again as she explained her reasoning.

It was the kind of explanation Willow always gave whenever she strongly believed in something.

She didn’t simply make a statement and leave it there.

She wanted people to understand why she believed her position was correct.

Ezra looked at her dryly, while his black plain eyes narrowed slightly.

From the few times he had communicated with Willow, along with the times he had watched her interact with other people at the Royal Academy, Ezra had already figured out one thing about her.

Willow was serious about almost everything.

Even when her reasoning was strange.

Especially when she was certain that her reasoning was correct.

"You do realize the stare I’m getting right now."

Ezra flatly said.

Willow’s frown slowly softened.

For a moment, she simply stared at him.

Then realization seemed to hit her.

"Oh."

She understood.

The reason Ezra hadn’t slammed her head against the platform wasn’t because he had failed to think of it.

It was because of the way he had looked at her.

Willow glanced at the ground view from her side.

Even though this was a Combat Festival and not a friendly spar, it wasn’t a killing match either.

Although...

The fights had to be very serious.

Where a single mistake could cost a Young Alchemist the match.

That was why Willow had thought Ezra should have knocked her out after throwing her down.

If he had done that, there would have been no possibility of her suddenly recovering and continuing the battle.

At least, that had been her reasoning.

But then she remembered her condition at that moment.

She had already been badly wounded.

Her Blood Adrenaline effects had also stopped.

Without Blood Adrenaline pushing her body beyond its normal limits, her weakened body would have taken even more damage if Ezra had slammed her head into the platform.

And then there was the stare Ezra spoke about.

Willow slowly understood what it meant.

It was the stare of a mother who didn’t like seeing one of her precious children receiving unnecessary injuries.

Her expression became strangely blank.

"Ahhh..."

She looked away slightly.

"Mother."

The word escaped her mouth quietly.

Willow looked displeased because of the realization that her mother... the Duchess of Derlis had intervened.

Although, she couldn’t know if that was only the reason for Ezra choosing not to slam her hard on the ground.

She really couldn’t tell.

Ezra stared at her.

Before either of them could say anything else, a loud voice suddenly echoed through the Arena.

"Winner!!!"

Patrick West’s voice came through every speaker.

The announcement immediately cut through the conversations filling the Arena.

The spectators who had been discussing the battle turned toward the stage.

Patrick had waited.

He and Professor Natasha had watched carefully to make certain that Willow wouldn’t suddenly stand back up or that Ezra wouldn’t lose consciousness from the amount of Cognis he had used.

Neither happened.

So, there was no reason to continue waiting.

Many of the spectators who had been supporting Ezra held their breaths.

Then Patrick raised his microphone.

"Mr. Ezra Ashenlocke!!!"

His voice echoed throughout the enormous Arena.

Ezra Ashenlocke had won.

The fight between the Gun Alchemist of Ashenlocke and the Blood Alchemist of Derlis had lived up to almost all the anticipation surrounding it.

There had been people who expected Willow Derlis to win.

For many spectators, Willow had been considered the stronger of the two before the fight even began.

She was a Flower of Britannia.

She was an Adept-ranked Blood Alchemist.

Her Mass Alchemy had already shown enough power to make many people believe she would control the battle.

Yet Ezra had once again broken the expectations surrounding him.

He had won.

And this time, he had done it against a Flower of Britannia.

The Arena exploded with cheers.

"YES!!! I knew he would win!!"

"Mr. Ezra Ashenlocke!!!"

"Amazing!!!"

"Awwwn... He also caught her just like how the Young Lord of Ash did for Lady Sasha Burnwick!!"

"Are all the young men of Ashenlocke true gentlemen?!"

"I wish that was me!!!"

"We love you, Sir Ezra Ashenlocke!!"

The voices mixed together until the Arena almost seemed to shake.

Ezra’s supporters raised banners and merchandise while some young students jumped from their seats in excitement.

Others simply shouted his name.

But Willow’s supporters didn’t remain silent either.

"You did well, my Lady Crimson!!"

"You are still the best, Lady Willow Derlis!!"

"We love you, Lady Willow Derlis!!"

"Lady Willow Derlis!!"

The cheering for Willow joined the celebration.

Even though she had lost, many of her supporters were still proud of the performance she had given.

Back on the Fight Platform...

Ezra slowly stood up.

His muscles protested as he straightened his body, while he brushed some snow and small pieces of broken rock from his training cloth.

The movement was simple, but his fingers paused for a moment when they touched one of the cuts across his clothing.

He glanced down, then he simply continued.

"Ezra Ashenlocke."

Willow suddenly called his name.

Ezra stopped.

The medic staff had already begun making their way onto the Fight Platform.

Several of them hurried toward the two Young Alchemists, carrying medical equipment and healing supplies.

Ezra turned around.

His plain black eyes met Willow’s crimson ones.

"I’m..."

Willow paused.

Her expression became strangely awkward.

"Ahhh, my scholars... I’m sorry... for questioning your decision..."

There was a faint embarrassed look on her face.

For someone who was usually so serious, the expression looked almost unnatural.

Ezra simply watched her.

Willow tried to continue.

"...For not... slamming my head... on the ground."

Her voice broke slightly as the embarrassment became harder to hide.

She tried to cover her face with one hand.

But her body still didn’t have enough strength for the movement.

Her hand barely rose before stopping.

Ezra continued looking at her, his expression remaining plain.

It’s not something to be taken seriously, though.

He thought to himself dryly.

"No problem."

He replied calmly.

Then he turned around and began walking away.

Two members of the medical staff immediately approached him.

One moved toward the cuts along his arms while another checked the blood around his face. They began applying first aid to the injuries he had sustained during the battle.

The rest of the medics moved toward Willow.

Several of them immediately noticed the wounds across her shoulders, knees, arms, and legs.

Willow remained flat on the platform while they began treating her.

The difference between the two Young Alchemists was easy to see.

Neither had walked away from the fight without injuries.

Yet both had remained conscious.

Both had remained standing until the battle had been decided.

And both had pushed their bodies far beyond what most people their age would have been capable of enduring.

Once Ezra and Willow were moved away from the central fighting area, the Craft-Based Royal Academy staff entered the platform.

They immediately began repairing the damage.

Workers moved across the broken ground while Earth Alchemists repaired the cuts carved into the platform.

Pieces of stone were gathered.

Damaged sections were rebuilt.

The remaining snow was pushed aside.

Within minutes, the stage began returning to its original condition.

Above the Arena, the four Holographic Screens changed.

The audience immediately noticed.

The screens began displaying the replay of the most important moments from Ezra and Willow’s battle.

The conversations quieted.

Everyone wanted to see what had actually happened.

The first replay showed the moment Ezra had used the M38 SDMRs.

The footage slowed down.

At normal speed, the attack had looked almost invisible.

But with the Holographic Screens slowing the scene down, the spectators could finally see the details.

The M38 SDMRs had been positioned around Ezra.

Their muzzles had been aimed toward Willow.

Then the guns fired.

The bullets left the barrels so quickly that even the slowed replay struggled to make their movement appear natural.

One bullet pierced through a layer of Willow’s Crimson Blood Web.

Before the web could fully regenerate, another bullet had already followed behind it.

Then another.

And another.

The bullets didn’t simply fire toward Willow in a random barrage.

They followed one another in rapid succession.

Every shot had been placed carefully.

Every bullet traveled through the openings created by the previous shot.

When one bullet broke through a layer of blood web, the next bullet was already moving toward the same opening.

Then the next.

Then the next.

The audience watched as the blood webs were cut apart.

Some bullets pierced through several layers before reaching their target.

Others were redirected by Willow’s blood web defenses.

But Ezra’s Overload had pushed the firing sequence to a level where the attack became almost impossible to hear.

Which was the mean shock to everyone.

Especially all the present Gun Alchemists of Ashenlocke.

They all knew using Alchemy Overload didn’t mean a Gun Alchemist could make a firearm firing sequence to not make a sound.

The logic and idea was impossible.

The Holographic Screen slowed the final moment even further.

The bullets reached Willow.

One struck her shoulder.

Another reached her knee.

Then another hit the side of her arm.

Another struck her leg.

And more followed.

The same areas were targeted repeatedly.

Not one bullet.

Not two.

Multiple bullets.

The attack had been executed in complete silence from Willow’s perspective.

She hadn’t known where the bullets were until they had already struck her.

The Arena became quieter as the replay continued.

Even those who had been cheering moments earlier watched the screen with serious expressions.

They finally understood why so many High-ranking Alchemists had reacted when the attack happened.

It wasn’t simply because Ezra had fired many bullets.

It was because he had turned the entire firing sequence into something that was almost impossible to perceive.

A Gun Alchemist had taken the natural advantage of firearms—their speed—and pushed it even further through Alchemy Overload.

And Ezra had done it while fighting a Flower of Britannia, known to be one of the Young geniuses of the Kingdom.

The replay ended.

The audience slowly returned to its normal noise.

But the atmosphere had changed.

The Eighth Round was almost over.

Only one match remained.

The next and final match of the day began shortly afterward.

And everyone already knew who the expected winner was.

There was little to no debate on who would win.

Because the difference in strength between the two fighters had already been discussed before the match even started.

Still, the Combat Festival continued.

The audience watched as the final two Young Alchemists stepped onto the Fight Platform.

The battle began.

And the expectation was met without much difficulty.

Less than thirty seconds after the match started...

"Winner!!"

Patrick West shouted through the speakers with bright excitement.

"Lady Diane Bergwyn!!"

His voice echoed throughout the Arena.

The crowd reacted immediately.

Some cheered.

Others had barely managed to settle into their seats before the announcement came.

On the Fight Platform, Diane Bergwyn stood almost sleepily.

Her light-blue eyes were only half-open.

She looked toward the ground.

Priscilla Ashenlocke was lying there, completely knocked out.

Diane stood over her with the same sleepy expression she had worn before the match began.

As if the battle that had just ended had been nothing more than a small interruption to her day.

And with that, the Eighth Round of the Grand First-Year Combat Festival came to an end.