The days passed in an absolute blur.
Before anyone knew it, the morning of the Imperial Tournament had arrived. The capital city of Erzel was completely transformed. The usually clean, quiet streets were now packed shoulder-to-shoulder with millions of people.
Merchants set up massive wooden stalls along every major road. They shouted over the roaring crowds, selling everything from roasted meat skewers and cold ale to cheap swords and glowing healing potions. Travelers, mercenaries, and commoners from the furthest edges of the Velmer Empire had all traveled to the capital just to witness this event.
The Imperial Tournament was the biggest festival in the entire empire. It was a brutal, glorious celebration of strength.
Every single prodigy in the empire gathered here to fight. The grand prize was a legendary 'Saint-tier' artifact straight from the Emperor's personal vault. That kind of treasure was enough to drive anyone crazy. It could elevate a minor family into a major powerhouse overnight.
Even commoners were allowed to participate, as long as they met the strict minimum requirement: they had to be atleast Silver-tier fighter to step onto the dirt. Anyone weaker would just be throwing their life away.
As the morning sun climbed high into the sky, turning the cool air into a warm, baking afternoon, the massive Erzel Stadium began to fill.
The stadium was a colossal ring of white stone and enchanted glass. It was large enough to hold over a million screaming spectators. The lower tiers were packed with commoners and minor nobles, their cheers echoing like thunder.
Outside the main stadium gates, the traffic was entirely different. This section was cordoned off by heavily armored Royal Guards. It was reserved strictly for the highest-ranking nobles in the empire.
A sleek, black carriage pulled up to the VIP gates. Four elite knights rode alongside it, their armor polished to a mirror shine.
The carriage rolled to a smooth stop. One of the knights quickly dismounted and pulled the heavy door open.
A young girl stepped out onto the cobblestones.
She had midnight-black hair tied back into a tight, practical ponytail, and striking violet eyes. She wore a dark, fitted combat suit reinforced with thin plates of lightweight metal. She didn't wear any jewelry or makeup.
Her face was completely blank. She showed absolutely no emotion, her eyes scanning the massive crowd like a cold, calculating doll.
Her name was Nia Draven. She was the eldest daughter of the powerful Draven Dukedom.
A second later, another figure jumped out of the carriage right behind her.
It was a boy who looked exactly like her. He had the same black hair and violet eyes, clearly her twin brother. He wore a high-end combat uniform trimmed with expensive silver thread.
But unlike his sister, his expression was completely wild.
He wore a massive, confident smile. His eyes sparkled with pure excitement. He bounced on the heels of his boots, his carefree energy making the strict guards nearby actually smile a little.
"Nia, let's go! Hurry up!" Lukas cheered, pointing at the towering stadium walls.
"I can't wait to see who showed up this year. There are going to be so many strong fighters our age! Come on!"
Nia didn't say a single word. She didn't even look at him. She just adjusted her leather gloves and started walking straight toward the VIP entrance, completely ignoring his loud cheering.
"Hey! Wait for me!" Lukas shouted, jogging to catch up with her.
Nia reached the reception desk for the high nobles. Without a word, she pulled a golden pass from her pocket and placed it on the counter. The clerk took one look at the Draven family crest, bowed deeply, and pointed them toward a private set of stairs.
They walked through the quiet, velvet-lined hallways and climbed the stairs leading to the high-noble viewing deck.
As they reached the top of the stairs, the sheer volume of the crowd hit them like a physical wave. Below them, the vast stadium was a sea of cheering people.
Before they could find their assigned seats, a soft, slightly nervous voice called out to them.
"Um... Lukas? Nia? You made it."
They turned around. Standing a few feet away was a girl with bright golden hair and gentle blue eyes. She wore a beautiful, flowing white dress covered in the holy symbols of the church.
She was Sera Lightveil, the Saintess of the 'Church of the Moon'.
She was playing nervously with her fingers, her cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink.
"I have been waiting for you two to arrive," Sera said softly, briefly making eye contact with Lukas before quickly looking down at the floor.
Nia looked at the Saintess, then looked at her brother.
'She is so obvious,' Nia thought, letting out a silent sigh.
'She has liked my brother since we were kids. But my brother is an absolute idiot.'
"Hey, Sera!" Lukas grinned brightly, completely missing the romantic tension. He walked over and patted her on the shoulder like a drinking buddy.
"It has been a while! How have you been? Are you participating in the tournament this year?"
Sera's face turned even redder. She quickly shook her head.
"N-No," Sera stammered, gripping the fabric of her white dress.
"You know I am a Saintess, Lukas. My healing magic isn't suited for a brutal arena fight. But... I will definitely be cheering for you from the stands!"
Lukas laughed, giving her a thumbs-up. "Thanks! I'm going to need it. I plan on making it to the final rounds."
Before Sera could say anything else to keep his attention, a slow, sarcastic clapping echoed from the walkway behind them.
"Make it to the final rounds? That is a hilarious joke, Lukas."
A tall boy stepped out of the shadows. He had sleek gray hair, cold gray eyes, and wore an incredibly expensive silver suit. He walked with an air of absolute arrogance, looking down his nose at everyone in the room.
Kaelen Ashford. The heir to the Ashford Dukedom, and Lukas's biggest rival since childhood.
"Oh, it's you," Lukas said, his bright smile faltering just a tiny bit.
"I didn't know they let cowards into the VIP section, Kaelen."
Kaelen sneered, stopping a few feet away from the group.
"Big words for a guy who lost to me in the academy sparring exams last year," Kaelen shot back, crossing his arms.
"I hope you actually trained this time, Draven. It would be incredibly boring if I had to eliminate you in the very first round."
"You only won last year because I slipped on the mud!" Lukas argued, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"This time, we fight on solid dirt! I am going to wipe that smug look right off your face!"
"I look forward to seeing you try," Kaelen laughed darkly.
Nia didn't bother listening to the rest of their childish bickering. She simply walked past Kaelen without making eye contact, found the seats marked with the Draven family crest, and sat down.
Other high nobles began to fill the viewing deck. Powerful Dukes, wealthy Counts, and famous military generals took their seats, chatting loudly about who they thought would win the grand prize.
Suddenly, a loud, echoing trumpet blast rang out across the entire stadium.
The roaring crowd instantly fell dead silent.
High above the VIP deck, on a massive balcony made of pure floating crystal, the Royal Family finally emerged.
The Emperor walked out first, wearing his grand white and gold robes. His heavy, crushing aura washed over the stadium, reminding every single person in the crowd exactly who ruled this empire.
Behind him walked Crown Prince Karlos, looking bored. Next came Second Prince Mark, eager to impress. First Princess Eliza walked gracefully to her seat, smiling as her usual, mysterious smile. Princess Mira followed, taking her seat quietly.
And finally, Princess Amyra stepped up to the edge of the balcony. She wore a stunning crimson battle-dress, her red hair tied back tightly.
She looked fierce. She looked regal.
But internally, she was absolutely furious.
Amyra sat down in her luxurious chair and glared at the empty seat right next to her.
'Where is he?!' Amyra screamed in her mind, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the armrests.
'The tournament is about to start! Every single noble in the empire is watching our balcony, and my so-called fiancé is nowhere to be seen!'
She knew exactly where he was.
Early this morning, she had sent a guard to wake Rias up so they could arrive together. The guard came back looking terrified, reporting that Lord Rias had simply rolled over in bed, told the guard he was "sleeping in," and locked the door.
He had promised to show up right before the fighting started.
'He is doing this on purpose to embarrass me,' Amyra thought, grinding her teeth together.
'He knows I can't drag him out of bed by force without causing a public scene. If he doesn't show up today, my father will punish me for failing to control him. I am going to murder him. I am going to melt the flesh right off his bones.'
She forced a calm, polite smile onto her face for the watching crowd, but her golden eyes were burning with pure murderous intent.
Emperor Valerius stepped up to the edge of the crystal balcony.
He raised his hand. The last remaining whispers in the stadium vanished.
"Citizens of the Velmer Empire!" the Emperor's voice boomed, magically amplified to reach every corner of the massive arena.
"Today, we celebrate strength! We celebrate the power that keeps our borders safe and our enemies terrified!"
The crowd erupted into a deafening cheer, stamping their feet against the stone floors.
"In my vault," the Emperor continued, pointing a finger toward the sky.
"Lies a Saint-tier artifact! It is a weapon forged from the blood of ancient beasts! But I will not give it away easily. You must bleed for it! You must fight for it! You must prove to me that you are worthy to hold the power of this empire in your hands!"
The crowd went completely insane. The sheer hype in the air was suffocating.
"All participants!" the Emperor ordered, his voice echoing like thunder.
"Descend to the arena floor! The Imperial Tournament officially begins now!"
Down in the VIP deck, Lukas cracked his knuckles. He turned to Sera and gave her a confident wink.
"Wish me luck, Sera. I'll see you after I win."
Sera blushed furiously and nodded. "G-Good luck, Lukas!"
Lukas turned and jogged toward the massive stairs leading down to the arena. Kaelen scoffed, adjusting his silver cuffs before following him down. Nia stood up from her seat, her face still completely blank, and silently joined the flow of fighters.
All around the stadium, thousands of people began to move.
Commoner mercenaries, minor noble swordsmen, and elite dukedom heirs poured out of the tunnels and onto the massive dirt field of the stadium.
Within minutes, the vast arena floor was packed with thousands of Silver and Gold-tier fighters. The sheer amount of killing intent and mana swirling in the dirt ring was enough to make a normal person pass out.
Up on the crystal balcony, Amyra's heart was pounding. She scanned the thousands of faces in the crowd below, looking for a flash of blonde hair. She looked at the tunnels. She looked at the main gates.
Nothing.
'He didn't come,' Amyra realized, a cold spike of panic hitting her chest.
'That lying, cowardly trash actually ran away from the tournament.'
But just as the head referee stepped up to the podium to announce the rules of the first elimination round, a loud, heavy creak echoed through the stadium.
The massive iron gates at the far end of the arena slowly pushed open.
Footsteps echoed in the silent stadium.
A single boy walked out onto the dirt. He wore a simple, dark blue coat. His blonde hair was slightly messy, as if he had literally just rolled out of bed.
He didn't rush. He walked with his hands casually stuffed in his pockets, completely ignoring the thousands of glaring fighters standing in front of him.
He looked up at the royal balcony, locked eyes with a furious Amyra, and offered her a lazy, relaxed wave.
Rias had finally arrived.