The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1227 - 189 - The Semi-Finals Contenders (5)

Chapter 1227: Chapter 189 - The Semi-Finals Contenders (5)

The first fight of the day was a best-of-three match between Veronica and the person my opponent from yesterday had mentioned which was coincidentally his sister.

Just hearing that already made things more interesting. Family pride always made these kinds of matches a little heavier than usual, like there was something more than just victory on the line.

Veronica’s opponent stepped onto the platform with a sword already resting comfortably in her grip. She was a swordswoman, and not the kind you’d mistake for a hobbyist. From the way she stood, from the way her eyes scanned the arena, it was obvious she had real experience. Her posture wasn’t stiff, nor was it relaxed. It was balanced. The kind that only came from repetition, from muscle memory carved into the body through countless battles.

This wasn’t someone who picked up a blade because it looked cool.

She looked like someone who lived with it.

She also seemed well aware of where she stood in the tournament. This wasn’t the preliminaries anymore. This was the semifinals, where mistakes were punished instantly and hesitation could cost you everything. There was a weight to the air, a quiet tension that made even the crowd’s murmurs feel restrained.

Veronica walked onto the platform from the opposite side, calm as ever.

The two stopped a fair distance apart, neither rushing and neither posturing. Just standing there, eyes locked and waiting.

An umpire stepped forward, standing between them. He looked from one to the other, making sure both were ready before explaining the rules. His voice was firm and practiced as he reminded them—and everyone watching—that this was a best-of-three match. Two wins would decide everything.

Simple rules.

"Oh? You’re here again. What a surprise."

I heard the voice beside me and didn’t even need to turn my head to know who it was.

"I’ve been seeing you a lot lately," he continued. "Maybe it’s fate?"

It was my opponent from yesterday, sounding just as casual as before.

I glanced at him. "Yeah, we really are running into each other a lot," I replied. "Almost suspiciously so."

He chuckled lightly.

When I looked past him, I noticed someone standing close at his side. A woman dressed like a mage, her outfit almost comically large on her slender frame. A big hat sat low over her head, and she clutched a long staff tightly, pressing it against her body like a lifeline.

She was trembling. Not subtly, either.

"Ah, this is one of my party members," the man said, gesturing toward her. "She applied to the tournament too. Believe it or not, she made it through the preliminaries."

The mage flinched slightly at the attention.

"She could’ve made it to the semis," he added, "but she gave up right away."

"I-It’s because my opponent was scaryy...~" the mage said, her voice wavering as she stared at the platform while looking directly at Veronica. "I saw her fight before, and she flattened her opponent like pancakes! I knew I’d be gone before I even realized what was happening."

She hugged her staff tighter, like it might sprout legs and carry her away.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame her.

This was Veronica we were talking about.

I hadn’t personally witnessed her fight yet, but her reputation alone said enough. Becoming a Vice Commander at our age wasn’t something that happened by accident. That position wasn’t handed out for being decent—it was earned through ability, discipline, and results. Or perhaps because she have connections with Commander Lilia. One of the two, or maybe even both.

And just like me, she was Lilith’s fragment.

That alone carried weight, I guess.

"Well," the man said, eyes on the platform, "we’ll see how good she really is once this starts. I’m sure my sister can handle her."

It was a confident statement.

It didn’t age well.

The moment the match began, Veronica disappeared.

Not moved—disappeared.

For a fraction of a second, there was nothing but empty space where she’d been standing, and then she was suddenly right beside her opponent, blade already mid-swing.

The swordswoman reacted on instinct alone. Her sword came up just in time to block the strike, metal crashing against metal with a sharp, violent sound that echoed across the arena.

But that was as far as her defense went.

The force behind Veronica’s attack was overwhelming. It wasn’t wild or reckless—it was controlled, compressed, and brutal. The swordswoman’s feet dug into the platform as she was shoved backward, her body skidding across the surface.

And then her sword snapped.

Not bent. Not chipped.

Broken cleanly in two.

"Uh-oh... that’s bad, ain’t it?" the man beside me muttered.

There was no humor in his voice this time.

"She’s not good at anything other than sword," he added quietly. "Which means this is practically her defeat now."

He wasn’t wrong.

The moment his sister realized what had happened, her eyes dropped to the broken blade in her hands. There was a pause. Then she raised one hand, signaling her surrender.

At least for this round.

"That woman... is good..." he admitted.

"I-I told you... she’s terrfying..." the mage whispered, sounding like she was about two seconds away from passing out.

The crowd reacted, but the outcome already felt decided.

This fight was effectively over.

Veronica had completely seized control, and unless something miraculous happened, the next round wasn’t going to look any different.

There was a short break before the second round began. During that time, I scanned the area and noticed Charlotte nearby. She stood with confidence, watching the matches with a composed expression. She was probably there to support her employees. Business always seemed to suit her. I mean, she had that natural ability to read situations and make the right moves.

Ella stood with her, the two of them looking like they belonged exactly where they were.

From the way things were going, their efforts were clearly paying off.

Even if this didn’t end in a massive win, it would still bring attention. Publicity like this mattered, especially in a setting like the tournament.

When the second round finally started, there was no dramatic shift.

Veronica won again.

She didn’t make a show of it. There was no flashy movements. No unnecessary flair. Every action she took felt efficient and deliberate, like she was simply checking something off a list.

It almost felt like she just wanted it done.

And with that, it was official.

Veronica had secured her place in the finals.

The next fight would be mine.

Against Shredica.

***

It was the second day of the semi-finals—the day after Veronica’s victory had officially made her one of the finalists.

I stood above the platform, looking down.

Shredica was already there.

Ayuru was pointed directly at her.

She looked stunned, her expression frozen somewhere between disbelief and confusion, like her mind was still trying to catch up with what had already happened.

I didn’t say anything.

I just stared at her, cold and unmoving.

"Winner!" the umpire announced, his voice cutting through the silence as he pointed at me.

And just like that, I won the first round.

She never even realized when or how it ended.