Beside the projection stone, Yami Sukehiro laughed so hard he sounded like a pig squealing.
The commoners watching couldn't help but burst into laughter as well, some even rolling on the ground.
From their vantage point, the events unfolding were visible in full clarity. The unfortunate Ansell had, in fact, fallen into the river right after stepping out of a spatial magic portal.
His exit point happened to be suspended over a small stream.
His claims were true, yet no one believed him!
Perhaps this is human nature: in the absence of definitive proof, speculation runs rampant. And when the supposed "victim" himself admits to something so bizarre, it only adds fuel to the fire.
With witnesses and "evidence" seemingly aligning, Ansell had no room to argue.
"Fuguealion, my condolences… truly…"
Yami mockingly patted the Crimson Lion King captain's shoulder, his cigarette dangling from his lips, looking thoroughly entertained by the bizarre turn of events.
It wasn't entirely his fault; the absurdity of the situation had reached comedic levels.
The one responsible escaped scot-free, and the wrong person bore the brunt of everyone's fury.
Ansell truly seemed cursed with the worst luck in existence.
Even as the projection displayed the battered Ansell surrounded by furious accusations, Fuegoleon Vermillion wore an expression that was as sour as it was helpless. His gaze shot a bitter glance toward the Wizard King.
"Alright, enough! Everyone, calm down,"
The Wizard King waved awkwardly, signaling for the laughter to die down.
After all, part of the blame lay with him too. He had arranged the starting points for each participant.
Who would have thought Ansell's designated spot would lead to this calamity?
"And then there were eight…"
The crowd turned their eyes back to the projection stone.
Elsewhere, Ethan Hayes was swiftly fleeing the scene of his latest magic.
He wasn't foolish—he knew exactly what would come next.
Creating such a massive spectacle had made him a beacon, drawing attention like a flame attracts moths.
Lisaka would undoubtedly be eliminated!
"Now announcing the remaining contestants. Currently, there are eight participants left!"
Ethan froze momentarily, his brow furrowing.
What? Shouldn't it be nine? Did Lisaka survive somehow?
Shaking his head, he resumed his escape.
Perhaps two other contestants had clashed in the meantime, but that wasn't his concern.
What mattered was conserving his strength and waiting for the right moment to strike.
Meanwhile, Nebra Silva, panting slightly, unleashed her magic.
"Mercury Restraint Magic: Silver Cage!"
With a silvery gleam, she trapped the beleaguered Ansell, who had already suffered heavy attacks from the others.
But as the group assessed Ansell, their faces turned grim.
Ansell showed no signs of exhaustion, his mana levels brimming as if he hadn't fought at all.
But it was too late to back down—they had already attacked.
"Damn that Lisaka! She tricked us!" Langris Vaude cursed angrily.
However, if Ansell wasn't the culprit, then who? Could it be… Levide?
Suspicion filled the air as everyone turned to look at Levide.
"Hey! Are you all idiots? Didn't you see the scale of my magic just now?" Levide retorted, his voice sharp.
He had no intention of ending up like Ansell—misunderstood and eliminated without cause.
Faced with his rebuttal, the group hesitated, holding back their hostility.
Indeed, if Levide had been responsible, he wouldn't have such high mana reserves.
But if it wasn't Ansell or Levide, who else could it be?
Though an unbelievable conclusion, the logic was sound.
Despite his inexperience and youth, Ethan had emerged as the only possibility.
"A mere commoner dares to defy us?"
Disbelief turned into resolve.
"He has to go," Langris suggested coldly. "Before he becomes a real threat."
One by one, the others nodded.
Allowing Ethan to remain in the competition jeopardized their positions—and their pride.
If they were to lose, better to be defeated by an equal or superior.
But losing to a commoner?
Worse, Langris had been duped. For a noble to be outplayed by a commoner was a humiliation he could not tolerate.
Back at the projection stone, the crowd erupted into a heated debate.
"Six against one? That's despicable!"
"Exactly! What happened to their so-called honor?"
"Pretentious nobles, rigging the competition from the start!"
The nobles present flushed with anger, but the commoners' fury only grew louder.
"Shut up!" a noble barked. "You dare question us? Watch your tongues before we crush your entire families!"
"Know your place, vermin!"
"You're nothing but ants!"
Faced with the nobles' threats, the commoners reluctantly quieted, though their faces burned with rage.
The Wizard King's powerful voice boomed, his magical pressure silencing both sides.
Sitting back on his throne, his expression darkened.
This incident had further exposed the deep-seated rift between nobles and commoners.
The existence of a tenth squad was more necessary than ever, to bridge this divide.
"Ethan Hayes, don't lose now…" he murmured under his breath.
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Advance Chapters: .com / Samorash