In no time, the empty tournament hall was filled with people who were eager to see the fight between Jang, the likely heir to the throne, and the human that Phante and Edora favored.

The Martial King and the elders entered the hall and seated themselves next to the stage. Edora was silent as she entered. Her head drooped and her face was red as her lips said quietly said over and over, “‘Oppa’?”

Watching his sister act like a broken machine, Phante clucked his tongue, muttering, ‘This is seriously an illness. A severe one, too.’ He shifted his gaze towards the stage.

Jang stood on one side, running his hand along his sword. His cold eyes were fixed on the other side of the stage where Yeon-woo stood. ‘I’ll make him regret showing up.’ Although Yeon-woo might be famous in the lower floors of the Tower, Jang found it laughable that he’d even dare fight with him. ‘I guess that’s to be expected from someone who travels with mongrels.’

Jang felt great contempt for Phante and Edora and saw them as the children of a whore who’d stolen his father from his mother. There was nothing as filthy as dirty-blooded mutts, and he could already tell the ability of the human who got along with such despicable creatures.

The human hadn’t even done anything ever since he entered the stage. He wasn’t checking his equipment or even warming up. All he did was stare at Jang menacingly, and Jang snorted at this attempt to intimidate him.

"As I said...