The massive stadium was still buzzing with excitement as the crowds slowly began to leave.
Rias walked down the quiet, shaded corridors beneath the arena stands. He had his hands stuffed into his pockets, enjoying the peaceful silence away from the screaming spectators. He just wanted to walk back to the palace, grab a hot meal, and get some sleep before the one-on-one duels started tomorrow.
But he wasn't alone.
He could hear the soft, rhythmic clicking of boots hitting the stone floor right behind him. The footsteps matched his pace perfectly. When he slowed down, they slowed down. When he sped up, they sped up.
Rias finally stopped walking. He turned around.
Amyra was standing a few feet away. She was wearing her dark red cloak, looking off to the side as if she were just casually admiring the blank stone wall.
"Why are you following me?" Rias asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Where is your royal escort? Shouldn't you be riding back to the palace in a heavily guarded, incredibly expensive carriage with the Emperor?"
Amyra crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.
"The carriage was full," she replied flatly.
Rias stared at her. He blinked once. Then he blinked again.
'The carriage was full?' Rias thought, almost laughing out loud.
'That is the worst lie I have ever heard. The Royal Family has an entire fleet of carriages. Her personal transport is the size of a small house.'
But then, he realized exactly why she was hiding down here with him.
Up on the balcony, he had shamelessly squeezed her cheeks for five minutes in front of her siblings. Crown Prince Karlos saw it. Princess Eliza definitely saw it. If Amyra got into a closed carriage with her brothers and sisters right now, they would bombard her with questions. They would ask her why her face was so red, and why she let the enemy hostage touch her so casually.
The Blood Princess, the most terrifying girl in the empire, was running away from her older siblings because she was embarrassed.
Rias smiled.
"Right. Completely full. Not a single empty seat in the entire royal fleet."
"Shut up and keep walking," Amyra snapped, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.
Rias chuckled and turned back around. They walked side by side through the long, quiet tunnel leading out of the stadium.
The sun was setting, casting long orange shadows across the paved streets. The cool evening breeze felt nice after standing in the hot dirt arena all day.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence of the throne room. It was surprisingly calm.
Then, Amyra finally spoke. For the first time since they met, her voice wasn't dripping with venom or sarcastic poison. It sounded quiet, genuine, and deeply confused.
"Why did you hide it?" she asked.
Rias looked at her. "Hide what?"
"Your strength," Amyra said, looking straight ahead at the road.
"I read the spy reports. Everyone in the empire read them. You were branded as the weakest, most pathetic mistake of the Leonhart family. You let them call you trash. You let your own siblings treat you like a punching bag."
She turned her head to look at him, her golden eyes searching his face for answers.
"You took out five hundred fighters today without breaking a sweat," she continued.
"You are stronger than the elite knights in my own guard. If you had shown your father just half of that strength back home, he would have never treated you like garbage. You would have been hailed as a prodigy. He definitely wouldn't have sent you here to enemy territory as a disposable hostage."
She stopped walking and stood in front of him.
"So why did you do it? Why did you let yourself be a victim when you had the power to fight back?"
Rias stopped and looked at her.
Her question made perfect sense. From her perspective, he was a hidden genius who had played the fool for fifteen years. It looked like a massive, complicated political scheme.
But the truth was far simpler, and completely impossible to explain. The original boy really was a weak, frail victim. He died on a cold bed, and a writer from another world took his place.
"I wasn't hiding anything," Rias replied softly. He looked directly into her golden eyes, speaking the absolute truth without giving away his secret.
"I really was weak. The rumors were completely accurate. I just... became stronger recently."
Amyra frowned.
"People do not just become that strong overnight, Rias. That is impossible."
"Nothing is impossible," Rias smiled.
He took a step closer to her.
Amyra stiffened, but she didn't step back.
Rias leaned in, lowering his head until his lips were right next to her ear. He could smell the faint scent of roses and ash.
"If you really want to know all my secrets, Princess," Rias whispered, his voice smooth and incredibly teasing. "Then you have to let me squeeze your cheeks whenever I want."
Amyra's eyes went completely wide.
She violently shoved him backward. Her face exploded into a brilliant, furious shade of red. All the calm, serious atmosphere vanished in a single second.
"Get lost, you shameless jerk!" she yelled, pointing a shaking finger at him. "I don't want to know your stupid secrets!"
Rias burst out laughing.
"A deal is a deal! Information has a price!"
"I will melt your face off!"
she threatened, spinning around and stomping angrily down the street.
Rias smiled and easily kept pace with her as they walked toward the outer plaza of the stadium. Teasing her was genuinely the most fun he had had since arriving in this brutal world.
As they walked out into the open courtyard near the VIP gates, Rias noticed a small group of people standing near the exit.
He recognized them immediately. They were the main cast of his novel.
Alen, the illegitimate prince and main protagonist, was standing awkwardly near a stone pillar. He looked completely exhausted, like he just wanted to go home and sleep for a week.
But he couldn't leave.
Lukas, the heir to the powerful Draven family, was practically hanging off Alen's shoulder. Lukas was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes shining with absolute excitement.
"Come on, man! Just one quick spar!" Lukas cheered, shaking Alen by the shoulder.
"That golden punch you threw was amazing! I have never seen anything like it! We have to fight! Let's be best friends!"
"Please let go of me," Alen sighed, looking incredibly uncomfortable.
"I don't want to fight anyone right now. I am tired."
Standing right next to them was Sera Lightveil, the Saintess. She was nervously playing with her fingers, her face bright red.
"U-Um, Lukas, please stop shaking him," Sera stuttered softly.
"He said he is tired. We should let him rest."
A few feet away from the noisy group, Kaelen leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. He scoffed loudly.
"You are embarrassing yourself, Lukas. Stop begging like a commoner for a duel. He just got a lucky strike in the arena."
Nia stood silently beside Kaelen, completely ignoring all of them. Her blank violet eyes were focused on the setting sun.
Rias watched the group, a strange feeling washing over him.
'These are my characters,' Rias thought, absolutely fascinated.
'I wrote their dialogue. I created their backstories. Seeing them bicker in real life is surreal. Lukas really is a giant golden retriever.'
As Rias and Amyra walked closer to the group, Lukas suddenly stopped shaking the poor protagonist.
Lukas looked up and spotted the red hair of the Blood Princess.
"Hey, Amyra!" Lukas yelled happily, waving his hand high in the air.
"What's up!"
Amyra stopped walking. She let out a long, tired sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Lukas," Amyra said, her voice sounding completely exhausted.
"You are too loud. Please stop yelling. My head already hurts."
Rias stayed quiet. He stepped slightly behind Amyra, pulling the collar of his coat up.
He knew exactly how this interaction was supposed to go. He was Rias von Leonhart. He was the son of the enemy Duke. The moment these proud, powerful Velmer nobles realized who he was, they would draw their weapons. They would hurl insults at him. Kaelen would probably challenge him to a death match right here in the courtyard to prove his superiority.
Rias braced himself for the incoming hatred. He kept his hands near his pockets, ready to summon his black sword if Kaelen tried anything stupid.
Lukas let go of Alen and jogged over to Amyra.
"Sorry, sorry!" Lukas laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I am just super excited! Today was awesome!"
Then, Lukas looked past Amyra's shoulder. His bright violet eyes locked directly onto Rias.
The courtyard went quiet. Kaelen stopped scoffing and narrowed his gray eyes at the Leonhart boy. Nia slowly turned her head, her blank expression shifting into a cold, calculating stare. Even Alen looked over, recognizing the blonde boy who had fought in the first match.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Rias waited for the insults. He waited for Lukas to pull out his sword and curse the Leonhart name.
Instead, Lukas's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He pushed past Amyra completely, rushing right up to Rias and invading his personal space.
"Whoa!" Lukas yelled, his face lighting up with pure, unadulterated joy. "You're Rias, right? The guy from the first match!"
Rias blinked, completely caught off guard. He actually took a step backward.
"Uh... yes?" Rias replied cautiously.
"That was so cool!" Lukas cheered, grabbing Rias by the shoulders and shaking him exactly like he had just shaken Alen.
"You took fight with five hundred guys without even using a weapon at first! And that crazy wind and fire attack you did at the end? The Overload Punch?! That was insane! How did you mix the elements without blowing your own arm off? Can you teach me?!"
Rias stood there, completely stunned.
Lukas wasn't angry. He wasn't hateful. He didn't care about the war, or the Duke, or the politics of the empire. He was just a teenager who was completely obsessed with strong fighters and cool moves.
"I... what?" Rias muttered, genuinely confused.
"Lukas, unhand him this instant!" Kaelen barked, stepping away from the wall. His gray eyes were filled with disgust. "Are you an idiot? That is the Leonhart trash! He is the enemy!"
"Shut up, Kaelen!" Lukas yelled back over his shoulder without letting go of Rias.
"He isn't an enemy right now, he is a participant! And his punch was way cooler than your boring sword pokes!"
Kaelen's face turned bright red with anger.
"My strikes are elegant and precise! You are just a brute!"
While the two rivals started screaming at each other, Rias finally managed to gently push Lukas's hands off his shoulders.
Rias looked at the group. Sera was still blushing nervously. Kaelen was shouting about noble honor. Lukas was ignoring him and asking Rias about footwork techniques. Nia was just staring into space. And Alen, the mighty protagonist who had just blown up an entire arena, looked like he was desperately trying to sneak away while no one was looking.
Rias couldn't help it. He started to laugh.
It wasn't a dark, calculating chuckle. It was a genuine, bright laugh.
He had spent weeks worrying about the deadly politics of the Velmer Empire. He thought every single person in this city wanted to slice his throat open.
But looking at these kids, he realized something important. They weren't just political puppets or ruthless killers. They were exactly what he had written them to be: a bunch of talented, messy, loud teenagers trying to figure out their own lives.
Amyra watched Rias laughing. She saw how his crimson eyes softened, losing that terrifying, empty void they usually carried. For the first time, he actually looked his age.
She quickly looked away, staring at the ground as her heart gave a strange, unexpected flutter.
"Alright, alright," Rias smiled, holding his hands up to calm Lukas down.
"I can't teach you the Overload Punch. It is a family secret."
"Aw, man!" Lukas groaned, crossing his arms and pouting.
"Fine. But we are definitely fighting each other in the main tournament! I call dibs!"
"Get in line," Alen suddenly spoke up.
Everyone turned to look at the dark-haired boy.
Alen was still standing near the stone pillar. He looked tired, but his golden eyes were locked onto Rias with a quiet, burning intensity.
"You are strong," Alen said simply, his voice carrying a heavy weight.
"I want to see exactly how strong. If we meet in the ring tomorrow, I am not going to hold back."
The air in the courtyard instantly shifted. The playful energy vanished, replaced by the heavy, serious pressure of two powerful fighters acknowledging each other.
Rias looked at the protagonist. The boy who was destined to rule the empire. The boy who had the ancient ancestors backing him up.
This was the ultimate test.
Rias shoved his hands back into his pockets. His lazy, fearless smile returned to his face.
"I look forward to it, Your Highness," Rias replied smoothly.
"Just try not to break the arena before I get a turn."
The sun finally dipped below the horizon, plunging the courtyard into twilight.
The elimination rounds were over. The main cast had officially met. Tomorrow, the one-on-one duels would begin, and the real battle for survival would take center stage.