System's POV

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the time you've been waiting for has finally come!" Thirteen shouted. "The great battle between two prodigies of the young generation is about to start!"

Cheers erupted from the audience stands as Thirteen started his opening speech.

"Without further delay, let me call upon our two fighters!" Thirteen pointed to the left side of the arena. "Not only is he the leader of the Hero Party, but he's also known for his volunteer work during his free time! He is the idol of the masses, the heartthrob of the ladies, the protector of the weak, the Champion of Wanderers, the…"

Thirteen continuously spouted over a dozen more worthy titles, making Roland, who was wearing a Respirator Mask as he stood in the hallway, feel his cheeks burn from embarrassment, thinking that Zion was glorifying him more than he deserved.

Finally, after finishing his spiel, the teenage boy raised his hand and voice, to the limit.

"Please welcome… Roland du Lac!"

A thunderous cheering erupted, making Roland feel like the Colosseum trembled for a brief moment.

Taking a deep breath, he took off the Respirator Mask from his face and stepped into the light, allowing everyone to see him.

""Whoa!""

Roland raised his hand and waved at the spectators with a faint smile on his face.

He was already used to this kind of event because he and his party symbolized hope.

Even after standing in the arena, the cheering still didn't stop, forcing Thirteen to raise a cue card, which was displayed on the giant LCD Screen.

"Stop Cheering!"

Those were the two words that were written on the cue card, making people laugh the moment they saw it.

After watching Thirteen host the event for the past few days, they were already used to his antics, so they found his cue card quite amusing.

Even so, it worked, and the cheering slowly died down, allowing the teenage boy to once again speak.

"And now, we call upon the warrior, who was hailed as one of the strongest members of the Young Generation, let's cheer for… Um? What's his name again?"

Clark, who was about to step into the light, almost stumbled after hearing the teenage boy's words, and his face turned beet red.

It was one thing for Zion to not give him the same introduction he had given Roland earlier. That was fine in itself, but the fact that the young man purposely "forgot" his name made Clark glare hatefully at the teenage boy, who was currently scratching his head as if truly trying to remember who Roland's opponent was.

Claude, who was watching this from the VIP Seats, couldn't help but smash his fist on the armrest of his chair.

'This brat really takes his antics too far!' Claude thought in anger.

The audience couldn't help but chuckle after hearing Zion's words. How could the host possibly forget the names of the two people who would be fighting in today's event?

The spectators treated it as a form of entertainment, with some of them even chanting the name "Clark! Clark! Clark!" over and over again.

Suddenly, two Pocopocos descended from the sky and landed deftly on Zion's left and right shoulder.

"Um, Roland's opponent is called Clark Kent," Pica said to the microphone that was in Thirteen's hands. "He's really strong, you know?"

"Clark Kent? If he really joins this competition, everyone should just roll over and surrender." Thirteen shook his head to deny Pica's statement.

"I think it's Clark Lark," Pico commented. "You know, the bird?"

"You're a bird too, you know?"

"Indeed. Maybe Clark is our distant cousin?"

The audience erupted in another round of laughter, finding the two ugly birds quite cute.

Wanderers recognized the two birds as Pocopocos, who were notorious for cursing and spouting utter nonsense when talking to people.

Since they look small like babies, they assumed that Thirteen caught them while they were young and trained them to speak like parrots.

Knowing that Claude and Clark might pop a nerve if he continued with his teasing, Thirteen once again pointed at the right side of the arena.

"Please welcome, the strongest Prodigy of the Ashford Clan, and one of the most powerful Wanderers of this generation, make way for…. Clark Ashford!"

Cheers once again spread in the arena, but compared to Roland, it was very lacking.

Clark stepped forward with a calm expression on his face.

But deep inside, he was seething in anger.

'I'll shut you all up, especially you, Zion Leventis, after I'm done with Roland!' Clark vowed as he used all the willpower in his body to stop himself from glaring at the teenage boy, who was looking at him with a faint smile.

The moment he stepped into the arena, he focused his gaze on Roland, who was standing several meters away from him.

The two combatants sized each other up as if trying to discern how strong their opponent was.

Knowing that the two were already raring to fight, Thirteen explained the rules of the tournament.

"Killing is not allowed and will immediately disqualify the contestant from the tournament. However, crippling your opponent or cutting off their limbs is fine," Thirteen explained.

"If your opponent surrenders or loses consciousness, it will automatically count as their defeat. Make sure to cease fighting once that happens."

The teenage boy glanced at the two older boys before asking them if they were ready.

"I'm ready," Roland said.

"I'm ready!" Clark declared with confidence.

As soon as the two combatants gave their affirmations, Thirteen raised his hand to officially start the match.

"Battle Start!"

The moment the signal was given, Roland and Clark shot out at the same time.

A few seconds later, the sound of two swords colliding reverberated in the surroundings.

The two fighters exchanged dozens of blows. Even with Thirteen's trained eye, he couldn't see who had the advantage since the two were obviously only testing the waters first.

They were not ordinary Wanderers, and both of them had trump cards that they could use to overturn the situation.

But just like all Trump Cards, they wouldn't use it until the right opportunity presented itself.

As the minutes ticked by, the sound of the weapons clashing against each other intensified.

Although both of them were still testing the strength of their opponent, they were gradually releasing a bit more of their abilities, making the audience start cheering once again.

Suddenly, Clark opened his mouth and blew in Roland's direction as soon as their weapons clashed.

A white powder-like substance emerged from Clark's lips, forcing Roland to hastily back away to avoid it.

Thirteen arched an eyebrow, but he didn't make any comment about Clark's strategy.

There were many abilities in Solterra that had a similar and more sinister effect.

Clearly, Roland's opponent was willing to do anything to win, making the young man frown.

Clark smiled as he flicked his sleeve, sending a gust of wind to fly in Roland's direction, guiding the powder that he had breathed out earlier to fly in the young man's direction.

'Maybe I shouldn't have removed that Respirator Mask,' Roland thought as he hurriedly ran to his right side in order to avoid the substance that Clark was desperately trying to make him inhale.