April 1st arrived—the final month of spring.
Pregnant stray dogs wandered through the streets, while plump orange cats lounged lazily in sunny corners.
After the morning court session, a piece of news was officially announced—
Ron André, Chosen One, Acting Voice of the Goddess, Special Appointed Assistant Instructor of the Royal Capital Magic Academy, Honorary Cadet of the Royal Capital First Military Academy, Seventh Prince—
would be granted the title of Territorial Count.
The exact details had yet to be disclosed, but all kinds of rumors were already spreading throughout the Royal Capital.
The granting of a count title was rare—sometimes not even once in several years.
A territorial count was even rarer.
The First Prince had only been granted his title after advancing to Tier 6 and achieving numerous military merits.
The Second Prince had spent years developing the western region's economy and was only awarded an honorary count title—not even a territorial one.
By comparison, Ron didn't quite seem qualified.
Aside from his unique status as a Chosen One, the rest of his titles, while impressive, didn't match the achievements of the other princes.
Yet even so, the proposal passed within just half a month.
If ordinary citizens knew that some had even suggested granting Ron a marquis title, their reactions would be unimaginable.
"Has it been confirmed?"
Inside the control room of the Moonview Street competition venue, Ron looked at Sylvie, who had come to report.
Sylvie nodded firmly.
"The investiture ceremony is expected to take place in mid-April, though the exact date hasn't been finalized."
"As for selecting your territory, that will happen after the ceremony."
"Currently, aside from you, no new territorial nobles have been appointed, so Tansen City remains unclaimed."
Ron nodded in satisfaction.
That meant Tansen City was practically guaranteed to be his.
Those forces behind the scenes probably never imagined that Ron would choose such a desolate place instead of accepting their offers.
Just this morning, before Sylvie's report, two marquises had already sent envoys to meet him.
Their message was simple—
If Ron chose land within their territories, they would gladly welcome him and grant him a prosperous region.
Ron was certain more would come before mid-April.
These factions, having previously failed against him and suffered losses during the military purge, had lain low for months.
Now they were reappearing.
First, they tested him through unfavorable public opinions about the Magic Cup.
Then, they pushed the idea of granting him a territory, hoping to corner him.
And now, seeing his growing influence, they were trying to recruit him instead.
Even absorbing him into their power structures was acceptable.
With the flower shop, hot pot chain, Element Cards, and the Magic Cup—combined with his identity as a Chosen One—
Ron had become a force that could not be ignored.
Backed by the Church of the Goddess of Harvest — Hervesta, he was no longer the powerless prince he once was.
Setting that aside, Ron asked:
"How's the convent in Tansen City? Any issues?"
"There are now nearly a hundred nuns," Sylvie replied after a moment of thought. "They've adapted quickly—no major problems."
Then her eyes suddenly lit up, and her tone became slightly hesitant:
"Y-Your Eminence… what do you think about holding a War of the Gods Tournament at the convent?"
"The sisters really enjoy the game. Something like the one we held on the third floor of Ron's Wonderful Flower Shop before would be great…"
Ron gave a dry laugh.
This was clearly just her wanting to play and dragging everyone along—while dressing it up as a "proper" idea.
Still, he didn't stop her.
Sylvie had been busy lately—managing the new convent in Tansen City, overseeing the card development division, and even handling matters related to Ron's title at court.
Now that things had settled, it made sense for her to relax a bit.
"The Magic Cup will keep us busy," Ron said. "If you want to organize it, you handle everything yourself."
"You can host it in both the Tansen City and City of Chaos convents—do as you see fit."
Without the spatial transmission channel, the two locations would naturally become separate divisions.
And Sylvie—being able to move between both—
would get to participate in both tournaments.
Double the fun.
Clearly realizing this, Sylvie nodded eagerly.
"Then I'll keep monitoring the court situation. I'll take my leave for today."
"Go ahead."
Ron waved her off.
"Boss," Nora stepped forward after Sylvie left. "The main round is about to begin. Do you want to say a few words?"
"I'll pass," Ron shook his head. "Are all contestants here?"
"Yes. Everyone has checked in, and today's schedule has been distributed. The main round should finish in five days."
Compared to nearly 20,000 matches in the preliminaries, the main round had far fewer.
Each of the 300+ players would play 20 matches, totaling about 600 matchups.
However, each matchup was best-of-three.
If every match went to three rounds, that would be 1,800 games—about one-tenth of the preliminaries.
With 30 arenas across three floors, each arena only needed to host 60 matches.
Spread over five days, that was just 12 matches per day.
Plenty of time.
Which meant—
Ron could start introducing some "extra flair" into the matches.
He planned to test these enhancements during the main round—
so the audience could gradually get used to them.
Otherwise, when the grand finals scaled up dramatically, the spectacle might overwhelm people.
And that would be… awkward.