Chapter 186

The second day of the tournament dawned with a crisp, biting cold that clung to the air like nervous anticipation. By the time they reached their seats in the coliseum, the crowds had doubled—voices echoing like a living storm trapped within stone walls.

Yuri sat stiffly beside Kana, legs bouncing restlessly. Her fingers drummed anxiously on her knees as if trying to tap the fear out of her bones.

“Kana…” Yuri’s voice cracked slightly. “Are you really sure we’re going to be alright?”

Kana didn’t look bothered at all. She leaned back, swirling the bright orange drink in her cup before taking a slow, appreciative sip. She exhaled softly, satisfied.

“You’re going to be alright,” Kana said, almost lazily. “As long as we don’t encounter Mica’s group.”

Yuri paled. “What if we encounter them in the very first round?”

Kana answered by taking another deliberate sip. “That’s why we hired Clint.”

Yuri blinked. “Clint?”

“Mm.” Kana nodded. “I told him to use his second skill if we run into Mica’s group. No holding back.”

Yuri stared at her. Kana took another sip.

“This is really good,” Kana said thoughtfully. “It reminds me of orange juice.”

“Right?” Suri said as she slid into the seat on Kana’s other side. “They only sell it during the festival. My [Doppelganger] had to stand in line for almost an hour to get these from that crazy popular stall near the gate. It cost me a bit of mana.. Injecting mana in the distance is really not good..”

Kana paused mid-sip to glance at her.

“.....”

Suri sipped her own drink proudly. “What? Why waste my time? Festivals are meant to be enjoyed..”

The roar of the coliseum swelled as more spectators poured in. By now, more than half the seats were filled—thousands of people, wrapped in cloaks and scarves, the breath of the crowd rising like fog.

The energy was different today. Tense. Expectant. The kind of atmosphere where even the stone seemed to hum.

The announcer’s voice boomed across the arena. “Welcome to Day Two of the Annual Tournament Festival!”

The jousting event began—thundering hooves, clashing lances, bursts of mana as riders enhanced their mounts with glimmering skill.. The crowd roared with every impact, dust swirling with each pass.

Kana watched with polite interest, sipping her drink.

Then came what she had been waiting for:

The Duel of the Knights.

Kana leaned forward, anticipation sharpening her expression. Even Suri perked up. Yuri momentarily forgot her anxiety.

But the moment the knights stepped onto the field, something felt… off.

Instead of facing each other, they stood side by side. Their weapons lowered. Their stances relaxed.

Then the first knight stepped forward—and began demonstrating his techniques like a polished academy exhibition.

One after another, the knights performed their flashy forms, sweeping arcs of mana, textbook footwork, perfectly clean stances. Impressive… but it was only a display..

Kana slowly slumped back into her seat, expression flattening. “This isn’t a duel.”

“Mm.” Suri nodded with a bored sigh. “It’s more like a… parade. Showing off.”

Yuri blinked. “Everyone else seems fine with it though.”

Indeed—the crowd appeared to expect this. Cheers, applause, excited murmuring. As if this was tradition. As if the idea of knights actually crossing blades was too wild to consider.

Kana stared blankly at the arena.

“This is so disappointing,” she muttered.

A knight performed a sweeping arc that sliced a boulder cleanly in half. The crowd erupted into cheers.

But Yuri saw the tiny spark of frustration behind Kana’s calm mask. The tension that meant Kana wanted real combat, not a staged performance.

Because somewhere in the stands, the empire students were watching too.

And Kana could already feel their eyes on her.

….

Kana was not satisfied.

Not even close.

She had expected the knights to duel—to clash steel against steel, to display the discipline and elegance of those who stood just one rank below the Royal Knights. Instead, their duel had been little more than a demonstration of strength. No strategy. No finesse. Just magic bursts and choreographed swings. The disappointment sat in her stomach like a stone.

Still… there was something else she found unexpectedly satisfying.

She hadn’t known people in the capital could smile like that.

When the final event ended in the late afternoon, the coliseum emptied like a draining tide. Families walked home beneath the orange glow of sunset, festival flags fluttering in the cold breeze. Most students remained behind in the dormitories—celebrating, gossiping, laughing.

Her friends certainly didn’t seem concerned. Suri, Rin, and Yuri had gone for a stroll, probably sampling festival food or messing with Suri’s doppelgangers. The boys scattered for their own nighttime plans.

Too relaxed, Kana thought.

Are they becoming too relaxed?

She swayed her head. No—better relaxed than choking on nerves.

Kana, however, had business.

Had something to do with the king’s business.

She made her way to the student council room as the sun dipped past the horizon, casting long shadows across the academy halls. The stone corridors smelled faintly of ink and burning lantern oil.

When she reached the room, she knocked once and pushed the door open.

Chaos greeted her. A familiar scene.

Parchments were everywhere—piled on tables, scattered on the floor, pinned against walls with knives. Shaun Dawn, Ryle Greece, and Moth all looked like they’d been awake for three days straight.

“Kana, you’re finally here!” Shaun nearly lunged toward her.

“The king told you we must get at least one win, right?” he said, voice quick, tense. Kana nodded.

Shaun raised his voice. “Then why did you arrive so late?!”

Kana sighed.

Shaun Dawn looked terrible. His eyes were red and shallow, his hair sticking in every direction as if he’d fought a pillow and lost. His irritation was practically vibrating through the room.

“Look at you,” Kana said, unimpressed. “Your eyes are hollow. You look ready to bite someone. You need to take care of yourself first if you want to win anything.”

Shaun froze. Then slowly—awkwardly—he took a deep breath.

“You’re right,” he muttered. “Sorry. I’ve been on edge these past few days…”

“Looks like you still have hope if you can admit that,” Kana said. “You should rest more. You’ll need your mind intact. What did you all find out?”

Shaun exchanged glances with the others.

“We’re in a pinch,” he said.

His tone dropped.

“Especially you.”

Kana scratched her head.

Shaun gestured at the table. “The king handed out the match details yesterday. We need every advantage. Moth dug into our old intel from when we visited the empire’s capital three years ago, but that information was outdated. So we bought everything we could from merchants who handle recent news.”

Moth lifted a finger with theatrical pride, then handed Kana a thick bound parchment heavy with notes.

“The king funded it, of course,” he added lightly.

Kana flipped through it. The pages were dense—battle records, family crests, skill rumors, mana patterns, even sketches.

Ryle, sitting to the side, was reading his own sheaf with cold focus, jaw tight.

Moth cleared his throat. His voice was thin, almost feminine, yet sharp enough to cut quiet.

“First matchup,” he began. “Ryle Greece will battle Moldembo from House of Rook. Class: [Knight]. Fourth year. Not really famous but still ranked in the top hundred. Ryle may stand a chance.”

Ryle nodded once, then went back to reading.

Moth continued, “Shaun’s opponent is a girl—Zarates, from House of Flamenal. Second year, already top one hundred. Class: [Flameling]. She can turn her body into fire itself. Flamenal houses are known for having the most destructive classes among mana-based classes.”

Shaun rubbed his temples. He didn’t even try to hide his despair.

“This is going to be a very difficult fight,” he muttered.

“But,” Moth said softly, “she’s still not as bad as Kana’s opponent.”

Kana paused mid-page.

“Your opponent,” Moth said, voice dropping, “is Sheen. Class: [Swordmaster], from House Espada—known as master of the swords, one of the ancient and influential houses in the empire. Currently in his third year. Rank second in the entire Empire Academy. The only one above him is his older brother.”

Kana blinked.

[Swordmaster]

A single word.

Is that an evolved class?

From her own observation, evolved classes had structured names—two. Like Zia [Battle Mage]. Maybe she was wrong?

Moth exhaled heavily.

“This matchup was chosen by the king himself,” he said. “Kana… I hate to say it, but you might be a sacrificial lamb this time.”

The room fell silent.

The weight of his words—of the king’s intentions—pressed down like a cold stone.

Kana closed the parchment slowly.

She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel fear.

Anger.

Or… excitement.

Did the king intend for her to win in the first place?

Kana forced them to leave the student council room and take a rest. Anyone could tell. Ryle and Shaun might not be able to fight before the day of their battle.

It wouldn’t matter who would win. One win was enough.

……

The third day finally arrived.

A thin winter sun rested low in the sky, its pale light doing little to warm the cold breath drifting across the arena. Frost clung to the stone edges, glittering faintly as though the coliseum itself were holding its breath.

Today was different.

The king—clad in embroidered winter cloak and steel-trimmed mantle—stood alone at the center of the arena. Not on his royal balcony. Not surrounded by nobles. But there, at the heart of the battleground. Before him sat a stone box filled with small parchment slips, each bearing the number of a competing group.

Tradition said the king drew the opening match himself.

And tradition always carried pressure.

Kana glanced over her shoulder.

Rin was bowing her head, hands clasped together tightly, lips moving in an earnest whisper. Her eyes squeezed shut as though she were pleading with the gods of chance themselves.

Kana blinked.

“What are you praying for? Are you… that nervous?”

Rin opened her eyes and sighed at Kana as if explaining something obvious to a child.

“Kana… you really have no idea.”

Her tone made Kana look around.

The others were—surprisingly—relaxed. Boris leaned on his spear, humming. Adam stretched his arms as if preparing for a morning stroll. Suri was eating something. Yuri appeared thoughtful but calm. Roy was muttering something about bones.

Only Leo, Andel, and Toby had the kind of stiffness Rin did—eyes locked on the king as though their fate depended on it.

Rin continued, almost whispering:

“The first two teams the king draws… they fight in the opening match.” She swallowed. “They fight alone. Just two teams. In the entire arena. Every single pair of eyes on them.”

Kana imagined it: the full expanse of the enormous coliseum, cold sand beneath boots, nowhere to hide, nothing to shield from the pressure. Just air, space, and a thousand stares.

Leo added, “After the opener, they divide the arena into sections—four or five mini-arenas. More matches, less pressure, less attention. But the first match?” He shivered. “Everyone watches.”

Kana opened her mouth to reply, but a thunderous voice rolled through the coliseum like a storm.

“The king has drawn the first parchment!”

The crowd hushed. Even the wind seemed to stop.

Kana felt her heartbeat echo in her ears.

The king unfolded the parchment slowly.

The announcer’s voice boomed, amplified by enchanted stones:

Kana’s group stiffened.

Rin froze.

Suri stopped chewing.

No one dared breathe.

Then the king drew the second parchment.

Time stretched.

He opened it.

The announcer’s deep voice carried across the frozen air:

Silence fell—an entire coliseum inhaling in disbelief.

Then the shouting began.

Kana blinked, stunned.

Rin stared at nothing.

Even Boris whispered, “No way…”

It was them.

Kana’s group.

Facing Valdis group.

In the opening match.

Kana exhaled slowly.

Well.

At least she didn’t have to fight in this one. 

Then she froze, realizing late. Her duel was a one on one match. In front of everyone.

Post note:

Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂