[18th June]
The match list didn't stay private for long.
Within minutes of being sent to the fifty contestants, it was displayed across the massive screens of the stadium. Names weren't shown—but IDs were enough.
More than enough.
The crowd reacted almost instantly.
Familiar IDs were picked out one after another—Raviel, Rey, Gravion, Ben, Davin. Discussions spread like wildfire across the stands as people tried to match names to numbers, recalling previous performances, piecing together who would face whom.
Excitement.
Anticipation.
And in some cases—
Disappointment.
—
Inside the Valemont family section, the mood had shifted.
They had already seen it.
Fenlor's match.
No one spoke it aloud.
No one needed to.
The moment his opponent was identified, the outcome had already settled quietly in everyone's mind. Not a single person there believed he would win.
Still—
They would watch.
They would cheer.
Because that was all they could do now.
And beyond Fenlor—
Their attention shifted.
Rey.
Compared to Fenlor's situation, Rey's match hadn't drawn the same immediate reaction. Davin's ID hadn't gained much recognition among the public yet.
To most, he was just another contestant.
Which meant—
Rey was still favoured.
Confidently so.
—
Rey, however, wasn't looking at his own match.
His gaze had drifted toward the Valemont section.
He didn't need to see Fenlor to understand what he must be going through right now.
'That kind of opponent…'
Fenlor wasn't weak.
But against someone like Raviel—
Strength alone didn't matter.
Rey exhaled quietly.
'He's definitely overthinking this.'
He could already imagine it. Fenlor wasn't the type to panic outwardly—but internally, he would be tearing himself apart. Not just about winning.
But about not failing.
Not bringing shame.
That kind of weight was worse than fear.
Rey stood up.
'I should talk to him before the match.'
Without wasting another moment, he left the stands.
—
The preparation hall was quieter than expected.
Only the first match contestants were present. The second hadn't arrived yet.
No sign of Fenlor.
Rey clicked his tongue lightly.
Too early.
Still—
He didn't leave.
Instead, he stayed near the entrance, leaning slightly against the wall, eyes fixed toward the corridor.
Waiting.
—
The first match began.
The sounds reached even here—distant but clear. Impacts. Movement. The ground shook faintly under the force.
Time passed.
When the match ended, both fighters had been pushed to their limits. Bloodied. Exhausted. One stood. One fell.
A hard-fought victory.
Rey didn't care.
His attention never left the hallway.
—
The second match started.
Then ended.
Staff rushed in to repair the damage, preparing the field for the next bout.
Only a few minutes remained.
Rey's expression tightened slightly.
'Where is he…'
A thought crossed his mind.
'Is he hesitating?'
For a brief second—
'No.'
He shook it off immediately.
'He's not that type.'
Running would only make things worse. Fenlor knew that better than anyone.
Which meant—
He would come.
And right then—
Footsteps.
Rey's gaze snapped forward.
Fenlor.
Relief flickered across his eyes for a split second.
But it faded just as quickly.
Something was off.
Fenlor walked in quietly, his usual expression gone. No casual confidence, no relaxed demeanour. His face was composed—but too still.
Too heavy.
And he didn't even notice Rey.
"Hey."
Rey's voice cut through the silence.
Fenlor flinched slightly.
"Rey—? When did you get here?" he said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Been here a while," Rey replied, stepping closer. "You just didn't notice."
Fenlor looked away briefly.
"I was just—"
"Thinking too much," Rey cut in.
Fenlor fell silent.
Rey placed a hand on his shoulder—not rough, but firm enough to ground him.
"Listen," he said, his tone steady. "You already know what you're up against."
No sugarcoating.
No false comfort.
"Your opponent's stronger. Everyone knows it. Your family knows it. I know it."
Fenlor's fingers tightened slightly.
"But that doesn't mean anything once you step onto that field."
Fenlor looked up.
Rey's gaze didn't waver.
"The moment you start treating him like something untouchable, you've already lost. Not to him—to yourself."
A pause.
"Forget who he is. Forget what people say. Just fight."
His grip on Fenlor's shoulder tightened slightly.
"Not for them. Not for the result."
"For yourself."
Silence settled between them.
Fenlor didn't respond immediately.
His expression shifted slowly—uncertainty giving way to something steadier.
"…Yeah," he muttered after a moment. "You're right."
A faint breath escaped him.
"He's not a god."
The words sounded firmer this time.
"I'll fight."
Rey gave a small nod.
"That's enough."
But before Fenlor could say anything else—
Footsteps echoed again.
This time—
Sharper.
Colder.
"Fight who?"
The voice cut through the hall like a blade.
Both of them turned.
Raviel Ashcroft stood at the entrance.
His presence alone shifted the atmosphere.
Calm.
Controlled.
And suffocating.
Rey's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Raviel…" he said quietly.
Fenlor's body stiffened.
Raviel's gaze passed over Rey briefly—then settled on Fenlor.
"Hm. Fenlor Valemont," he said, voice even. "I'll give you this—you showed up."
No praise.
No mockery.
Just a statement.
"But understand something."
He took a step forward.
"Today isn't about your courage."
Another step.
"It's about demonstration."
His eyes held no emotion.
"I've been instructed to show the difference. To make it clear."
A faint pause.
"So don't expect mercy."
Fenlor's face paled slightly.
"And you—" Raviel continued, voice dropping just enough to feel heavier, "will be the first example."
Silence.
For a second—
No one moved.
Then—
A quiet sound broke it.
"…Heh."
Rey.
A faint smirk had appeared on his face.
Small.
But unmistakable.
Fenlor turned sharply.
"Rey, what are you—"
Too late.
Raviel's gaze shifted back.
This time—
Fully.
"Oh," he said, as if noticing. "You're here too."
A slight smile formed.
Cold.
"Rey Dragonstorm."
The name lingered.
"The fallen heir."
Rey's fingers curled into his palm.
Raviel's eyes sharpened slightly.
"Couldn't sense you at all," he continued. "Your family really is good at hiding."
A pause.
"Just like the past few years."
Something snapped tight inside Rey.
His jaw clenched.
For a moment—
It almost showed.
But he held it.
Held everything.
Because this wasn't the place.
Not yet.
And Raviel—
Just watched.
"Well…" Rey's voice came out low, tight with restraint. "Didn't expect errand boys to start talking this much."
Fenlor stiffened beside him.
Rey didn't stop.
"I remember someone sticking close to me all the time. Acting like a friend. Funny how a few years of luxury and resources can turn that into arrogance."
Raviel didn't move.
But something behind his eyes shifted.
"You…" A faint breath escaped him—half laugh, half disbelief. Then it vanished. "Say whatever you want."
His gaze hardened.
"I'll show both of you what that 'luxury' turned into."
He lifted his hand slightly—pointing.
"First him."
Fenlor.
"Then you."
Rey watched carefully.
There it was.
The tension in Raviel's fingers. The slight tightening of his jaw. His control was still there—but it wasn't effortless.
'Good…'
"You should focus on staying conscious first," Rey said calmly. "Wouldn't want a repeat."
A pause.
"I still remember someone trembling so hard he couldn't even stand straight."
The air froze.
Completely.
This time—
Raviel reacted.
A pressure spread from him—not loud, not explosive—but heavy. Cold. Like something tightening around the room itself.
"Say that again."
His voice dropped.
No emotion.
Which made it worse.
"Try," Rey responded without hesitation.
"I'll make sure that tongue of yours doesn't move again." Raviel glared at Rey.
His hand had already moved to the hilt of the short sword resting across his back.
Rey didn't back down.
"Try."
The word left his mouth without hesitation—but his body had already moved. The dagger was in his hand, his stance shifting just enough to block, to react.
Fenlor was pushed slightly behind him without a word.
Prepared.
Ready.
The distance between them shrank—
And for a moment—
It felt like the fight would start right there.
—
A sharp sound cut through the tension.
The announcement.
Third match.
The call echoed across the hall.
Raviel's gaze flicked upward for a fraction of a second.
Then back to them.
"Lucky," he said.
His eyes settled on Rey.
"Otherwise you wouldn't be walking out of here."
Then—
He looked past him.
At Fenlor.
No words this time.
Just a stare.
Cold.
Measuring.
And then he turned.
Walking toward the arena entrance without another glance.
—
The moment he was gone—
The pressure disappeared.
Fenlor exhaled sharply, stepping forward.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, running a hand through his hair. "Are you insane? That's Raviel!"
Rey sheathed his dagger calmly.
"Relax."
"Relax?" Fenlor almost laughed. "You just—"
"He wasn't going to do anything," Rey cut in. "Not here."
Fenlor stared at him.
Rey's tone shifted slightly—more serious now.
"Listen. Don't get caught up in what he says."
Fenlor's expression tightened again.
"He's trying to control the fight before it even starts," Rey continued. "If you let that get into your head, you're done before you step in."
Fenlor didn't respond.
But he was listening.
"Fight smart," Rey said. "Don't match him head-on unless you have to. Watch him. Let him make the first mistake."
A brief pause.
"And if things go bad—withdraw."
Fenlor looked up sharply.
"I'm serious," Rey added. "There's no point pushing past your limit here. Especially if he's trying to make an example out of you."
That line landed.
Fenlor's expression shifted—uncertain, but clearer than before.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "I get it."
Not full confidence.
But enough.
Without wasting more time, he turned and headed toward the arena entrance.
His steps were faster now.
Not steady—but not frozen either.
—
Rey watched him go.
Then turned.
Making his way back toward the stands.
A presence appeared beside him.
Aiden.
"You've got a habit of poking things you shouldn't," Aiden said, voice calm, almost amused. "That Raviel kid isn't normal."
Rey didn't look at him.
"I know."
"Then why provoke him?"
Rey's gaze stayed forward.
"I needed to see something."
Aiden raised an eyebrow slightly.
"And?"
Rey exhaled.
"He's strong," he said simply. "Stronger than me. Maybe more than I expected."
No hesitation.
No ego.
Just a fact.
Aiden watched him for a moment.
"Then what about that boy?" he asked. "You just made him the outlet for that anger."
Rey's steps didn't slow.
"I know."
A pause.
"But Fenlor's not stupid."
Aiden said nothing.
"If he realises he can't win, he'll pull back," Rey continued. "He won't stay there and get broken for nothing."
That was the difference.
Fear wasn't always weakness.
Sometimes—
It was survival.
Aiden nodded once.
Then disappeared.
—
By the time Rey reached the stands—
The match had already begun.
And from the very first exchange—
Something felt off.
The expected outcome…
It wasn't unfolding the way anyone thought.
Across the Valemont section, tension rose.
Confusion.
Hope.
Fear.
All mixed into one.
Rey's eyes locked onto the arena.
Below—
Fenlor moved.
Raviel stood opposite him.
And as the fight truly began—
The entire stadium held its breath.
__
A/N: Hello everyone! The author here. Just letting you know that another chapter is on the way.