Pentagon Festival [4]

Dean, with a relaxed posture and a touch of disdain, held the katana while murmuring: "Status". Instantly, a blue screen appeared in front of him, revealing information in floating letters.

====

STATUS

Name: Dean Corleone

Rank: E

Attributes:

Strength: E-

Agility: E+

Vitality: E

Intelligence: D-

Mana Capacity: D-

Luck: E+

Charm: E-

Profession: Mystic Swordsman Level 1

====

"Still at level one, huh?" Dean thought ironically, displaying a crooked smile. "This world doesn't know how to recognize talent when it sees it."

The Mystic Swordsman, a profession as rare as enigmatic, required a balance between physical and mystical skills. For Dean, this meant an immense and still untapped potential, something that he faced with a mix of sarcasm and curiosity.

Dean closed the status window with a quick gesture and cast an analytical glance over the other participants. Sam stood out, wielding a sword disproportionately large for his size, as if it were light as a feather. Ellie, with her katana still sheathed, held a necklace in her hand with an expression of concentration.

Diana, the image of elegance and grace, kept her foil sheathed, but ready to enter action at any moment. Blake, despite having one less hand, skillfully held his dagger, showing that his disability did not prevent him from being a formidable combatant. And Chloe, with a spear in hand, chatted animatedly with Blake, both seeming to have developed a stronger bond.

Yuki Sakamoto was already there, distant from the other competitors. With his katana skillfully secured in the scabbard, he exuded an aura of concentration and serenity. Yuki's eyes were closed, in a meditative posture, creating an atmosphere of calm around him.

Dean, with a sarcastic smile that only he could have, watched the room with a peculiar mix of amusement and a pinch of guilt. "Life is funny, isn't it?" he whispered to himself, with a tone of someone who knows the end of the story. "Here I am, the creator of this whole circus, mixed among my own creations."

His gaze passed over Ellie and Chloe, and a wider and somewhat mischievous smile formed on his lips. "Oh, if they knew that the man behind their personal tragedies is here, making jokes. I bet Ellie would want to cut me in two," he thought, imagining the scene with a mix of humor and challenge.

Suddenly, cutting Dean's thoughts, was the entrance of the woman who had brought Dean to the preparation room, through the teleport. Instantly with her arrival, the atmosphere of the room changed. All the murmurs and conversations ceased, and every pair of eyes turned to her, waiting for her instructions with a palpable expectation.

"Ladies and gentlemen, participants of this grand tournament," she began with a voice that resonated with authority. "The time has come. Please gather according to the years you represent."

With an almost military efficiency, the groups formed quickly. Dean, with a slightly reluctant step, joined Sam, Ellie, Diana, Chloe, Yuki and Blake. He stood there, a figure that oscillated between disinterest and a discreet curiosity, observing the surroundings with a keen eye.

The woman paused, making sure everyone was ready, and then announced, "Follow me, please." Her voice did not admit delays or hesitations.

Guided by her, Dean's group and the other representatives began to move, each step bringing them closer to the stage of one of the most awaited tournaments of the year.

---

In a colossal stadium that radiated vibration and enthusiasm, a square stone arena dominated the center, contrasting remarkably with the green lawn that surrounded it. The gigantic screens, strategically positioned, captured and enlarged every detail, providing an immersive visual experience for viewers around the world.

At the epicenter of the arena, a man with a magnetic presence held a microphone, his solitary figure standing out against the imposing scenery. The sound of the crowd, a cacophony of expectation and excitement, filled every space of the stadium, creating a nearly deafening background sound.

With a moment of dramatic pause, the man raised the microphone, and his powerful voice burst, muffling the noise of the audience: "Hello, viewers from all corners of the globe! The moment you all longed for has finally arrived. Welcome to the grand Pentagon Tournament!" His words reverberated through the stadium, triggering a storm of applause and shouts of enthusiasm from the audience, who rose in a tribute of admiration and anticipation.

The event presenter, bathed by the spotlights, continued his introduction show, his vibrant and enthusiastic voice rising above the euphoria of the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today we will witness a parade of unprecedented talents! Promising young people, future heroes who will write the next page in the history of our beloved Ark!" He gestured widely, each word punctuated by a dramatic gesture that only amplified the climate of expectation.

"Get ready to be amazed, thrilled and, above all, inspired!" He paused, allowing the anticipation to grow even more, before proceeding. "And now, without further ado, I ask you to receive with a thunderous applause the fearless and brilliant participants of this tournament!"

The announcement was followed by a collective roar from the crowd, each person in the stadium standing up, anticipating the triumphant entrance of the competitors. The energy in the air was palpable, a mix of tension and excitement.

"Competitors, please join us in the arena!" With these words, the doors on both sides of the arena opened, and the participants began to enter.

First, the representatives of the third year, led by Luke, who walked with a natural confidence, waving to the crowd that greeted him with cheers and applause. Followed by the students of the second year, including Alice del Ferraro, whose presence was marked by a mix of strength and grace.

Finally, the competitors of the first year entered. Dean, Sam, Ellie, Diana, Yuki, Chloe and Blake, each with their own aura and presence, entered the arena under a sea of curious and enthusiastic eyes. Dean, in particular, seemed to enjoy the situation, a half smile playing on his lips, as he assessed the crowd and the magnitude of the event.

For the Pentagon tournament, an exciting knockout-style fight bracket was organized, ensuring electrifying confrontations where each defeat meant the elimination of the competitor.

Entry Fight:

Dean Carleone (1st year) vs. Noah Centineo (2nd year)

Initial Round (After the Entry Fight):

1- Sam Solomons (1st year) vs. Michael Clark (3rd year)

2- Yuki Sakamoto (1st year) vs. Thomas Reed (3rd year)

3- Diana (1st year) vs. Sarah Johnson (2nd year)

4- Chloe Sunshine (1st year) vs. Alex Mercer (3rd year)

5- Blake Nightshade (1st year) vs. Emily Zhang (3rd year)

6- Ellie Stormhold (1st year) vs. Amanda Holden (2nd year)

7- Winner of the Entry Fight vs. Alice del Ferraro (2nd year)

8- Luke Skywalker (3rd year) vs. Marcus Stone (3rd year)

Quarterfinals:

1- Winner of Fight 1 vs. Winner of Fight 2

2- Winner of Fight 3 vs. Winner of Fight 4

3- Winner of Fight 5 vs. Winner of Fight 6

4- Winner of Fight 7 vs. Winner of Fight 8

Semifinals:

Winners of the Quarterfinals (1st and 2nd fights)

Winners of the Quarterfinals (3rd and 4th fights)

Final:

Winners of the Semifinals

---

Dean watched the tournament bracket on the big screen, his name highlighted for the entry fight. "How ironic," he thought, a skeptical smile appearing on his lips. "They put the 'little' Dean to open the show against one of the favorites. Do they want to see me out right away?"

Chloe approached with a serious expression. "Dean, you need to be careful with Noah. He is an exceptional close combat fighter and his innate ability makes him intangible. He is a complicated opponent."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Good job on the research," he said, the corner of his mouth rising in a crooked smile. "Intangibility, huh? That sounds like cheating to me."

Chloe shrugged. "If you fight seriously, I think you can surprise him. But, anyway, good luck." She walked away, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

He watched her back moving away, thoughtful. "The invisible wanting to be seen, and the visible seeking anonymity," he murmured, remembering a quote from a movie he had watched. The situation had its own touch of irony: he, the author of all this, facing the consequences of his own written words. With a sigh, Dean spun the katana in his hand, mentally preparing for the challenge that lay ahead.