Transmigrated as a Ghost

After the king announced that the tournament brackets had been finished and were about to be shown for the first time, he turned around and left the podium his obligation to the tournament complete until the semifinals.

The tournament's brackets then appeared on the viewing screens throughout the arena so that everyone could see them.

Of course, this was also the first time that the competitors were seeing the tournament's brackets as well, so everyone was looking intently for their names.

The tournament had been broken up into four blocks of one hundred twenty-eight competitors with the winner of each block going to the semifinals.

Looking around Marcus found his name in block two and his first opponent was someone named Miguel LaRusso.

Immediately he though it was a strange name for this kingdom, and he wondered if they had come from some far-off nation.

Though there was another possibility that was at the back of Marcus' mind, and he wondered if they were a transfer from Earth like him, or maybe was the decent of one as he had seen before.

However, Marcus soon pushed his first match to the back of his mind when he saw who he might be facing in the next two.

'Gurrom and then Mrazivý huh. Did they rig this so I would have to fight my friends first?'

Seeing that if they both won, he would have to fight Gurrom in his second round and Mrazivý in his third, Marcus could only think that the tournament was maneuvered to have him fight those close to him.

And Marcus was actually correct, in the case of Gurrom. The kingdom wanted to pit both of Thabon's apprentices up against each other and see who came out on top.

It was actually a brutally tactical move in which they were hoping to cause a rift and force one of them to leave Thabon's forge so that the kingdom could recruit them.

But him having to go up against Mrazivý was actually and just a coincidence, though the person she would be fighting second had been a calculated maneuver just like with Marcus.

Nevertheless, Marcus was not able to look over the entire tournament bracket before it disappeared from the screens.

Luckily, he already knew that every one of the competitors were going to get a copy of the brackets later, so it was no big deal.

Soon after the brackets had disappeared, they were replaced by the image of a halfling man who was dressed up in flamboyantly fancy clothes and was going to be the commentator and referee of the match.

And while he may have looked kind of silly Marcus could tell he was strong, since otherwise he would not have been able to keep up with the matches.

"Hello and welcome everyone, are you ready to get this tournament started."

Cheers began to echo across the arena as the halfling commentator riled up the crowd.

"Well, it sounds like everyone is ready for the matches to begin, so without further ado, would all of the competitors in block one head back to their waiting rooms, and in thirty minutes the first bout between Sir Gavan Grell and Andrea will begin. And for the competitors not fighting today please feel free to stay and watch the matches in your reserved seats."

Leaving the arena's floor Marcus headed up into the stands to watch the matches that were going to be happening.

Certainly, he would only be fighting the strongest person from this block when he made it to the semifinals, so analyzing everyone's abilities would not be worth that much to him, but he could still enjoy the fights.

"Looks like we are going to be fighting each other in the second round."

Looking behind him Marcus found Gurrom who promptly sat down next to him and put on a smile, "I plan on winning it all so hopefully no hard feelings when I beat you."

"Yeah well, you may be a higher level than me, but do not expect that to help you win. I got a whole lot stronger fighting in the dungeon, and likewise plan to win it all."

After their little banter the two of them turned their attention towards the staff members that were handing out sheets of paper with the tournament's brackets on them.

Looking it over Marcus mapped out the names of the people he was going to possibly be fighting in his block.

Unfortunately, other than Gurrom and Mrazivý he did not know anyone else in his block and before he could move onto the others, the competitors for the first round had walked out onto the arena's stage.

Looking them over Marcus could tell that like his name gave away Sir Gavan Grell was a knight.

However, in complete opposition to his clean-cut look and shiny armor, his opponent was a bear beastwoman who looked like a barbarian.

She was wearing a number of thick hides over her body and had a large crude looking mithril club over her shoulder.

Yet even though her appearance looked unrefined, it was clear how strong she was with her body covered in dense muscles and scars.

'She is going to win this hands down.'

With only a quick look Marcus was sure of the outcome of this first fight, and an appraisal soon backed up his gut feeling.

Sir Gavan was only level thirty-nine, on the lower end of the remaining competitors, and Andrea was level forty-six.

Certainly, level was not everything as Marcus had proved that time and time again, but the presence that Andrea had was far more intense.

"On my left we have the man known as the spiked fortress, and a knight in service of Duke Scriven. He is here to represent and bring glory to his lord, Sir Gavan Grell. And on my right, we have the leader of the nomadic beastperson tribe that lives in the northern part of the kingdom. She is known for her immense strength and fearlessness, Andrea."

The announcer slash referee quickly gave a bit of background on the two competitors getting the audience even more exited before saying, "Now it is time to start the first round of the tournament. Would both competitors take their places, and the match will start on the count of five."

"Five"

"Four"

"Three"

"Two"

"One"

"Begin."

With the battle started Sir Gavan who was wielding a massive tower shield with spikes on it charged toward Andrea.

For his bulk he certainly moved pretty fast, and his wide shield would make it difficult to hit or get around him.

But that was only if he was stronger or around the same strength.

Andrea met his charge head on smashing her club right into his shield and actually bending some of its spikes.

This was pretty impressive since mithril did not bend easily under pressure, but Andrea was just that much stronger.

Quickly Gavan's charge was brought right to a halt as he was unable to budge Andrea.

"You knights all think you are so strong because of your title and fancy armors. But most of you are weaklings that grow soft behind your walls."

After saying that Andrea side stepped Sir Gavan who was still trying to force his way through causing him to lurch forward.

Then with his footing disrupted, Andrea brought back her club and with a heavy swing smashed Sir Gavan right in the head.

His spiked mithril helmet caved in under the pressure, and his body that must have weighted over three hundred pounds went flying like a balloon.

Yet the stage was incredibly large and even after flying through the air for dozens of feet Sir Gavan crashed into the ground and skidded to a stop.

Still even though he had not bee knocked out of the ring, the match was obviously over.

A crimson pool began to spill out from his helmet and there was no doubt that Sir Gavan was dead.

Andrea had not held back and gone straight for the kill, not caring that it as frowned upon.

Even the announcer was stunned for a moment by the brutal ending to the first match, but being the professional that he was quickly got himself together and said, "And the first round goes to Andrea. With one brutally swing she has defeated Sir Gavan. It may not have been a long match, but it was certainly an amazing display of power from the leader of the nomadic beastperson tribe."

Of course, he did not outright say that Sir Gavan was dead, but his unmoving body plus the pool of blood and gray matter around his head was more than an enough for everyone to know.

Soon a couple members of the tournament staff came and collected Sir Gavan's body and pulled it off of the stage and swiftly out of the arena.

"ANDREA, ANDREA."

A number for the audience began chanting for the wild woman that had killed a knight in one blow.

Some of them were just bloodthirsty and were happy to see such a savage opening, while other were glad that a noble had been shown up by a commoner.