Chapter 193

The next fight ended almost as soon as it began.

Steel rang only briefly. A few skills flashed across the arena, bright and decisive, and within ten minutes it was finished. One side stood barely winded while the other lay scattered across the red sand, shattered necklaces glinting under the winter light. Supporters rushed in, practiced and were calm. The outcome had never truly been in doubt.

There was barely time for the crowd to digest the result.

After a short break, the horns sounded again. The tunnels opened, and the coliseum leaned forward as one, hungry for the next clash. Whispers rippled through the stands. Two teams were supposed to emerge.

Only one figure stepped into the arena.

Adam walked out alone.

His boots left deep impressions in the artificial sand as he moved toward the center. The noise of the crowd faltered, confusion spreading like a crack in glass. Adam stopped, adjusted his grip on his axe, then coughed once. When he spoke, his voice was loud enough to carry to the highest seats.

“We surrender!”

For a heartbeat, the words seemed unreal.

Then the crowd erupted.

Boos crashed down from every direction, sharp and disappointed. People shouted, gestured wildly, some even standing from their seats in protest. They had wanted another battle. Another spectacle. Instead, they were given a choice made quietly and without shame.

Among the spectators, Chelle Pint released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Relief softened her posture. At least they would not be facing them.

The brackets moved forward without ceremony.

Chelle Pint’s group faced the winners of the previous match, and the result followed the cold logic of preparation and rules. A team forbidden from using skills against one that wielded them freely could only last so long. 

It was one sided.

When the final necklace shattered, the verdict was clear. Chelle Pint’s group was crowned the champion of this year’s annual tournament.

Applause followed. Not thunderous, but steady. Respectful.

There were still two more matters to resolve. The fight for second, third, fourth and fifth place.

Kana’s group surrendered again.

The decision was immediate and unanimous. No arguments. No hesitation. Third place was secured without another clash. The crowd were disappointed again.

Mica’s group went on to face the remaining team. Exhausted yet they were able to claim victory in the battle between fourth and fifth place. Their movements were slower now, their breaths heavier, but their resolve remained intact.

When it was over, the rankings stood finalized.

Kana watched from the sidelines, sighing in relief, finally the ring would be her.

…..

A brief intermission followed, just long enough for the arena to breathe.

Kana sat among the crowd this time, no longer hidden in the participants’ section but surrounded by a sea of voices. Stone seats radiated the cold of winter despite the press of people, and the air hummed with anticipation rather than exhaustion. This was no longer about rankings or prizes. This was the main event. Empire against kingdom. 

Her group clustered around her instinctively, as if proximity alone could anchor them.

“Kana,” Rin said quietly, leaning closer so her voice wouldn’t be swallowed by the noise, “shouldn’t you warm up?”

Kana didn’t take her eyes off the arena floor. Workers were smoothing the red sand, erasing scars left by previous battles.

“I want to watch,” Kana replied. “The empire’s students don’t fight like ours. Their first duels might tell me how they think.”

Rin nodded, though worry lingered in her eyes.

Before anyone could say more, the announcer’s voice thundered across the arena, amplified by magic and confidence.

“We will now begin the first official duel between the Empire and the Kingdom’s finest student!”

The response was immediate.

The crowd erupted, sound crashing against the walls like a living thing. Names were shouted, banners waved, stomping feet turned stone into a drum.

“Ryle! Ryle! Ryle!”

Kana watched as Ryle emerged from one of the tunnels, bathed in light. His twin curved swords were crossed on his back, hilts rising over his shoulders like familiar companions. He walked with practiced ease, the stride of someone who had been cheered before and expected it again.

From the opposite tunnel came his opponent.

The empire’s student stepped into view carrying a sword and shield, his silhouette broad and immovable. He was nearly Adam’s size, shoulders thick, posture upright. His face was older than Kana expected, lined not with age but with experience. 

“Is that guy really a student?” Suri whispered. “He looks as old as Boris.”

Boris snapped back with a string of curses that earned him a few sharp looks from nearby spectators.

The announcer finished the introductions. The bell rang.

Ryle moved first.

He surged forward like a storm unleashed, twin blades flashing as he closed the distance. His strikes came fast, layered, relentless. Steel rang against steel as his swords bit into the empire student’s guard.

But Moldembo did not retreat.

He blocked. Parried. Redirected.

Each of Ryle’s attacks slid harmlessly aside, absorbed by shield or turned by precise movements of the sword. Moldembo’s feet barely shifted. His breathing stayed even. He did not chase. He did not press.

He waited.

The clash became rhythmic. Ryle attacking, Moldembo responding. Sparks jumped where blades met. Red sand scattered beneath their feet, marking Ryle’s aggression in wide arcs while Moldembo’s steps barely disturbed the ground.

Kana frowned.

This wasn’t a duel.

It was containment.

“That empire brat is not fighting,” Leo muttered. “He’s simply waiting for his opponents to get tired.”

“That type of [Knight],” Leo continued after a pause. “High defense. Sustain-focused skills. Probably sacrificed offense for survivability.” He grimaced. “Terrible matchup for Ryle.”

Boris snorted softly. “Reminds me of sparring with you.”

Leo didn’t deny it.

Minutes passed. Sweat beaded on Ryle’s brow. His strikes slowed, just slightly. Moldembo noticed. He always noticed. But still, he didn’t counter. Didn’t advance.

The crowd’s roar dulled into confusion. They had come for spectacle. This was patience made visible.

Ryle finally stepped back, chest heaving. He looked at Moldembo, then at the untouched shield, the calm eyes behind it.

Understanding dawned.

If he continued, he would lose slowly. Painfully. Without ever forcing an opening.

Ryle lowered his swords.

“I surrender,” he said.

The words echoed louder than any clash of steel.

A hush fell over the arena before murmurs replaced it.

Kana leaned back slightly, fingers tightening in her lap.

I can probably get some openings with that Moldembo guy.

……

Kana stepped into the participant’s room, and the air inside felt heavier than the stone ceiling above it.

The roar of the arena barely reached here, muffled into a distant thrum that sounded more like a heartbeat than celebration. This room was not meant for glory. It was a waiting room for doubt.

Shaun Dawn paced in a tight circle near the far wall, boots scraping softly against the stone floor. His hands flexed and unflexed as if searching for something to hold onto. Each step was similar to each, then repeated, over and over, like motion alone might keep fear from settling too deeply.

Nearby, Ryle sat on a bench, shoulders hunched forward. His swords rested beside him, untouched. He stared at the floor, jaw tight, fingers laced together as if restraining himself from shaking.

“Kana… you’re here.” Shaun stopped pacing when he noticed her, straightening too quickly. His voice came out louder than he probably intended.

“It’s alright,” Shaun said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m going to win.”

The words sounded rehearsed. 

Ryle looked up then, guilt etched plainly across his face. “Sorry,” he said, voice low. “This is my fault. I did my best, but he was a bad matchup.”

Kana didn’t answer immediately.

She walked past Shaun and stopped in front of Ryle, her shadow falling over him. When she spoke, it was quiet enough that only he could hear. “Did you really try your best?”

The question hung between them like a blade suspended mid-fall.

Ryle stiffened. “What… what do you mean?” He leaned back slightly, as if the words themselves had pushed him.

Kana’s red eyes locked onto his, sharp and unblinking. Not accusing. Evaluating him.

Something didn’t add up.

Ryle shouldn’t have lost ground that easily. His speed was near hers. His skill usage had always been adaptive, instinctive, she saw him a couple of times in the training field. Yet in the arena, his attacks had come in patterns. Clean. Predictable. As if he had already decided the limits of the fight before it began.

“Because I can win against that Moldembo guy,” Kana said evenly. “So why couldn’t you?”

Ryle’s hand went to his cheek, scratching nervously. His gaze flicked away. “I did my best. Okay?”

Kana studied him for another breath, then turned away.

Perhaps the empire had offered him something. Gold or perhaps a dungeon item? Things a student couldn’t simply refuse. Kana couldn’t blame him if that were the case. She might do the same thing if they offered a dungeon item… especially a skill book.

And in the end, it didn’t matter.

What mattered was the next fight.

“You’ll be defeated before you even step into the arena if you go out like this,” Kana said, shifting her focus to Shaun. She placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

Shaun flinched slightly at the contact.

[High Awareness] 

Kana felt it immediately. Shaun’s heart was racing, pounding hard enough to echo through his chest. His breathing was shallow, uneven. The signs were obvious especially with her heightened senses. He was in worse condition compared to Rin or Roy when they had their first fight.

Should I slap him in the face? Kana swayed her head.

She remembered Suri’s words.  “Be confident,” Kana said softly. “Just enjoy the moment. Don’t think about anyone else.”

Shaun closed his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them again, his shoulders lowered a fraction.

“Right,” he said, exhaling slowly. “This is embarrassing since I’m the oldest here.”

A faint smile appeared, this one more genuine.

“I should be setting a good example.”

Kana nodded once.

Outside, the arena roared again.

The next fight was coming.

Post note:
Ryle the spy in action
Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂