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In the host room, Mr. Dowd flipped through the list of participants for the match.

Princess Estelle’s remarkable one-to-five match had left an indelible impression on the audience, igniting a fervent atmosphere in the entire venue. The crowd was now eagerly anticipating the next thrilling match.

Seizing the moment, Dowd decided to introduce more powerful participants to the stage.

“This team seems quite impressive.” His eyes gleamed with excitement.

The team comprised quintuplets, forming a unique and exceptional squad. Raised and trained together since childhood, their close bond and teamwork allowed them to achieve a synergy where their combined effort surpassed that of their individual efforts.

This synergy, intensified by the “beastification” ability that significantly augmented their power, could pose a serious threat to top-seeded players if underestimated.

“Let’s zoom in on this guy.” Dowd was about to shift his focus to the quintuplets’ match when the staff behind the scene delivered an unexpected feedback.

“What? It’s over already?” Dowd exclaimed in shock.

Double-checking the start time, he incredulously exclaimed, “In just a minute? And the ones who lost were the quintuplets?”

After getting confirmation from the staff, Dowd was still intrigued.

“Hmm… Interesting,” he mumbled to himself as he looked through the weird participant names on the opposing team.

Little Sparkly Blonde Princess…
Adorable Daughter of the Little Sparkly Blonde Princess…
Disgusting Ragdoll…
White Hair Red Eyes, Female…
Dog…

“Well, that’s really interesting.”

“What is?” Fenice glanced over with a puzzled expression after yawning boredly.

“Nothing, I just think I’ve found the next team to provide commentary on.” Dowd grinned.

“Oh.” Fenice, uninterested in watching a group of children fight, settled back into the huge couch. Her eyes were threatening to close as she skipped through the channels on the screen in front of her, looking for Her Highness’ match.

Amidst thousands of teams, finding Her Highness felt like searching for a needle in a haystack. She would probably have to wait for the majority of participants to be eliminated first.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

“Done.” Lilith exhaled in relief as the repulsive swamp before her eyes vanished, and they were back in the lounge.

Skarst scratched his cheeks awkwardly, surprised by his seemingly unassuming sworn sister’s strength. He found himself sitting down again shortly after standing up.

During that brief moment, he sensed something familiar but was unable to put a finger on it.

How curious. Could someone possibly deceive a demigod like him?

“Impossible, it must be my imagination,” he thought to himself.

Skarst found some amusement in his own naive musings. After all, what else in this world could deceive a supreme demigod? Real gods only existed in the legends.

Cornelia crouched in a corner, playing with Lacey.

Lilith was looking at her own palms.

The instant she unleashed her dragon language magic, she had emptied her entire reservoir of magic power. The powerful magic had frozen the entire swamp, and she did not even get to see the faces of her unfortunate five opponents.

Even so, she did not feel spent after using so much magic power. With Lilith’s recovery ability, it only took a few minutes for her to replenish thirty percent of her magic power.

This move was exclusive to her—a combination of immense magic power and instantaneous dragon language magic, resulting in explosive power that could sweep through opponents of the same level as her.

“Looks like I’ll be saving a lot of time,” Lilith mumbled to herself.

The subsequent matches ended swiftly, all resolved with Lilith employing quick instantaneous dragon language magic. None of them lasted longer than a minute.

This left Dowd feeling helpless. Every time he attempted to broadcast the match of this dark horse in the tournament, he was informed by the staff that the match was already over.

He looked like a clown in front of the crowd, who was clamoring for him to quit his job and work in a factory instead.

Dowd wiped the sweat from his forehead and quickly scanned the next part of the match.

His eyes lit up as the dark horse’s next opponent turned out to be none other than Princess Estelle’s team.

“We’re facing your sister so soon?” Lilith remarked as she looked at the schedule, expecting to encounter Princess Estelle much later in the tournament.

“I guess this is what they call fate.” Luna chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the upcoming match against the sister who had nearly taken everything from her life.

“Fate has decided today is the day my dear sister will fall off from her pedestal. As her younger sister, I naturally have to give her a good send-off,” she added.

“What a good sister you are. But I don’t want to draw so much attention this early on,” Lilith commented, lying on the couch with her bare feet on the armrests as she wriggled her toes.

With Princess Estelle in the spotlight, Lilith anticipated the live broadcast across the city. She foresaw the shockwaves when the inevitable result confronted unsuspecting viewers, likely surpassing the commotion she stirred before the match.

“I’d say the timing isn’t bad,” Skarst said while stroking his chin. “Maybe with enough people watching, I can use this chance to find my daughter.”

“Do you think that human trafficker you’re after would be so free to calmly watch a tournament?” Lilith silently scoffed.

“In that case, let’s do it seriously,” she declared as she pumped her fist.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

“What kind of names are those, for heaven’s sake?”

Princess Estelle’s team, on the other side, was also scrutinizing their upcoming opponents.

“Forget about that princess something, I’ll put up with the missing persons notice too, but dog? Who willingly calls themselves a dog? Are they m̲a̲s̲o̲c̲h̲i̲s̲t̲s̲ who actually get a kick out of being called names?”

Mint, the red-haired participant, was scrutinizing the participants list. The names struck him as unusual, causing a few big question marks to appear over his head.

“What’s all the fuss about? It’s just a name,” Calvin remarked. Clad in knight armor, he was silently polishing his longsword.

“Regardless of what they call themselves, it doesn’t change the fact that they will fail. They’re just clowns who attempt to compensate for their lack of strength through such antics so they could draw some attention,” he continued without looking up.

There were teams like this in every Martial God Tournament. Although they were weak, they called themselves strange and bizarre names just to garner some fleeting fame.

While it was true that such tactics yielded some results, the peculiar names would merely become gossip shared by people after their meals.

The fame acquired through this method was as transient as dust in the wind, quickly forgotten by the world.