"Greetings, Count~ hehe." Mia peeked into the control room, then pulled Eileen in as she giggled.
"Your Highness Ron," Eileen greeted politely.
Ron returned the greeting, then glanced at Mia. "The matches are about to start, and you still have time to come here?"
"My match isn't until 3 PM—plenty of time," Mia said cheerfully as she plopped into a chair. Then she looked at Nora curiously. "So you're about to become a Countess—how does that feel?"
The moment she heard "Countess," Nora immediately thought of "The Viscountess's Rise Diary." Her face flushed bright red, and she couldn't get a word out.
Ron chuckled at the silly girl beside him and flicked Mia on the head.
"Ow!" Mia clutched her head, looking aggrieved. "Ron, you're bullying me!"
"Oh? Want me to assign you a different commentator?" Ron said with a smirk.
Mia's expression changed instantly.
She jumped up, hurried behind Nora, respectfully seated her next to Ron, and began massaging both of them attentively.
"Is this pressure okay?"
"Does this feel good? Tell me if anything's sore~."
Eileen covered her mouth and laughed softly, thinking that only Ron could keep this princess in check.
Meanwhile, Ron enjoyed the massage and couldn't help but think—
Soren was basically a strategic-level weapon.
Just his name alone was enough to terrify opponents—no need for him to even appear.
Ten minutes later, Nora stepped to the voice channel system, opened the conduits connecting to the lower floors, and, after confirming with staff, calmly announced:
"The Magic Cup main round now officially begins."
"Please take your seats. Contestants, enter the arena."
At the same time, Eileen turned to Ron with a slightly apologetic expression.
"Your Highness, my father would like to invite you to a private gathering. He asked me to check if you have time in the coming days."
Mia immediately stopped her massage and quietly moved aside, leaving space.
Before Ron could reply, Eileen added:
"I can roughly guess his intentions. If you're not interested, you may decline directly."
Her father—Count Hodge of the Christine family—had previously tried to make a move on Ron's flower shop.
Now, reaching out again, it was clearly about Ron's upcoming title.
As the eldest son of Duke Christine, he controlled vast resources in the eastern region.
If Ron wished, he could easily grant him a prosperous territory there.
If Ron hadn't already made his choice, joining the Christine faction wouldn't have been a bad option.
But now, Ron had his own plans.
"The Count's goodwill is appreciated," Ron replied calmly. "If it's just a meal and casual conversation, I'd be happy to attend."
"But if it involves other matters, please decline on my behalf."
"Understood. Thank you, Your Highness," Eileen said with a smile. "I hope the Magic Cup concludes successfully."
"Thank you," Ron stood up. "I just hope it doesn't cause you trouble."
"Not at all," Eileen shook her head.
Though outsiders thought both Eileen and Betty were close to Ron—
They knew very well that he had little interest in them.
Many couldn't understand why—
especially people like Soren.
What exactly was so special about that beastfolk catgirl that captured Ron's heart so completely?
"Come on, let's go take a look at the matches," Ron said, patting Mia's shoulder. "There might be some surprises."
Since Nora needed to oversee operations, only Mia and Eileen followed him.
"Which arena are you playing in this afternoon?" Ron asked.
"Second floor, Arena No. 8, I think," Mia replied after thinking.
"Then let's head there."
As they walked, Mimic Grass displays lined the corridors, showing floor maps and ongoing match listings.
Spectators searched for their favorite players and followed the directions.
Each arena could seat over a hundred people.
With thirty arenas, that meant over 3,000 seated spectators.
Plus standing areas—
The capacity was more than enough.
Unless a star player like Andy, Wardson, Rowell, or Betty was competing, most arenas still had plenty of space.
"Oh! Soren's over there!" Mia suddenly exclaimed when they passed a third-floor arena.
Inside, Soren was flamboyantly commenting.
They stopped to watch.
Sure enough—
The player Soren favored was dramatically defeated at the last moment.
Mia immediately grabbed Ron's arm.
"See?! I told you! Anyone he supports is doomed!"
Ron laughed helplessly.
Was Soren really a casualty weapon?
Whoever he praised… lost?
They continued down to the second floor.
Mia kept patting her chest confidently.
"As long as Soren doesn't commentate on my match, I'll definitely qualify!"
"Even without him, your chances aren't that great," Ron teased. "There are only 128 spots, and over a hundred Gold-ranked players."
"You sure you can make it?"
Mia snorted. "We'll see."
Laughing and chatting, the three of them arrived at Arena No. 8 on the second floor and stepped inside.