"What is wrong with those Prescotts?" one of the Elyndorian students spat. "They've been gunning for us since the minute we landed."
Another chimed in, "If they rigged the matchmaking, shouldn't we report it?"
Caleb glanced at Serena. Seeing her stay silent, he replied, "If the Prescotts pulled this off, they've covered their tracks. If we file a dispute without hard evidence, we'll just look like paranoid sore losers."
"So... what do we do?"
The tension in the Elyndor ranks was palpable.
Even though these were the individual rounds of the challenge.
Every single one of them was carrying the pride of their nation.
If they got completely obliterated in the opening phase, it would only validate the degrading insults the Severian commentators had thrown at them.
It would prove that Elyndor was only here to be a stepping stone for the real elites.
Their country's dignity would be dragged through the mud.
The manipulation wasn't targeting Serena directly.
They knew better than to mess with a monster like her, so they were systematically hunting down her team instead.
By crushing the rest of the Elyndor delegation and shattering their morale, Serena's individual brilliance wouldn't be enough to salvage the team's overall standing.
The students understood the strategy perfectly.
Watching the brutally stacked brackets lock in, a suffocating dread settled over the group.
Not only were they facing top-tier scholars from powerhouse nations, but several were matched against reigning gold medalists from the United Realmon States and Caldoria.
It was an impossibly steep hill to climb.
Yet amid the rising panic, Serena merely glanced up at the display, her expression completely untroubled.
Turning to her team, a faint, careless smirk played on her lips. "What are you so nervous about?"


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