The Grand Arena was reborn that night with a stage of light and music.
Gone were the crackling energy barriers and weapon-etched craters.
Now, silken curtains danced in the sumr breeze. Spotlights swept the towering do. Giant holographic displays blood above the audience, showing reels from the tournant—slow-motion battles, the top-rated ones on the internet.
In the participants’ section, sixteen warriors stood in quiet formation. Those who had made it to the Round of 16 were given their own raised platform to overlook the crowd.
And among them...
Fiona stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, pretending to focus on the stage far below. Her hair was tied back in an elegant cascade, her expression carefully composed.
Beside her, Zion stood tall, hands folded behind his back, posture perfect... yet his shoulders were just slightly too rigid.
And the tension between them? It’s just obvious for everyone to see.
From the corners of their eyes, their fellow participants stole glances. So tried to hide their smirks. Others just looked utterly confused.
A few rows behind, Selene leaned toward Orion, whispering behind a folded program booklet. "Look at them. They have been avoiding each other since the kiss. I guess it is because people are talking too much."
"They kissed in front of fifty thousand people," Orion muttered. "What did they think was going to happen? That nobody would talk?"
Selene giggled and flicked her hair. "You sound jealous."
He blinked. "Not really. FYI, I kissed a lot of girls, and I also no longer crave any physical affection."
anwhile, Leah, seated in the VIP box, was the picture of aristocratic grace. Not a single emotion crossed her face. But those who knew her could feel the chill rolling off her in waves. Neither Azzy nor Gideon was seen anywhere. Of course, since they officially don’t have anything to do with the tournant, they kept it low-key.
Below, the closing ceremony had shifted into full swing.
Massive floating drones weaved into formations high above—giant dragons, phoenixes, cosmic lotuses—all glowing with light. Fireworks exploded in synchronized beats, tid perfectly with the thunder of bass from the main stage.
Sowhere behind the lights, the Azurewind Ensemble played their signature battle hymn, followed by a soaring ballad perford by Maris Callow, the number one spiritual vocalist of the Western Hemisphere. A dancing troupe from the Lune Academy leapt and twisted like shooting stars.
The crowd roared in approval, and even on the participants’ deck, everyone’s attention was on the performances, except for two.
Fiona exhaled, barely audible. "Okay, this is troubling. I can’t concentrate on the performances, no matter how much I try to do it."
Zion didn’t turn his head, but he replied. "Just bear it for a couple of hours. You don’t want a new report on the internet, right? You already caused enough trouble."
Fiona turned to face him, her voice quieter, a frown on her face. "What did you say? I caused the trouble?"
"Hey, you are the one who kissed and turned it into news," he argued quietly.
She looked at him for a long second and said. "And you are the one who proposed to . And you kissed back, too. Don’t think you can put it on , mister."
Zion couldn’t help but chuckle. "What can I do? It was my last official battle, and I wasn’t sure whether I could see you again. I had to say it. Or else, when will I get the opportunity?"
"Eh? Your last battle?" Fiona blinked in surprise.
Zion replied with a firm nod. "Yeah, I planned to graduate early from the academy and work for my father’s upcoming project."
"Oh?" Fiona knows what that project was. She nodded in understanding. But then, a pause later, she asked. "Then, what about us?"
"Well..." He scratched his cheek, averting his gaze. "You could work along with ."
"Your mother is the one who is leading the project. Do you think she will let us work together?" She crossed her arms, her frown deepening.
"Well, regardless, we have to work on getting her permission, either way." Zion nodded, letting out a sigh. Fiona also nodded. "I guess."
After a while, a hush fell over the arena again as the final portion of the ceremony began.
The center stage shimred. A holographic tree of light burst into bloom, its branches spreading out to touch the skies.
At its base, Affea stepped forward in regal robes, her hair tied up with violet ribbons, holding a golden scroll. "Before we conclude this tournant," she declared, "let us give a big applause for the Champion of the Tournant..."
A beam of light showered on Zion. He waved his hand with a smile.
Soon, the prize ceremony began with a wave of cheers as Reva, the fad actress and idol of millions, stepped onto the platform in a radiant gown of flowing crimson silk that seed to shimr like fire.
"Ladies and gentlen," her voice rang across the arena, amplified with a tone that lted into the ears like velvet, "it is my honor to present the top sixteen warriors of this year’s Continental Youth Tournant. Let’s hear it for all of them!"
The crowd roared.
Reva gestured with a graceful sweep of her arm. "Let’s begin with our proud achievers in ranks nine through sixteen!"
The platform lit up with eight ascending pillars, each with a contestant standing atop it. The cheers rolled in as nas were called—so from famous clans, so unaffiliated prodigies. Each one accepted their rewards with varying levels of surprise, humility, or smugness.
Reva continued, "Each of these brave competitors will receive one million credits, delivered through the Bank of Calot issued prepaid card, and a customized Rank-7 Skill Card, tailored to their elent."
A digital projection hovered over each pillar, showing the awarded skill:
For wind users: Rank-7 Hurricane, a devastating spiral storm technique.
For fire users: Fire Beam, a high-density fla lance.
For water users: Water Blast, a compressed torrent with concussive force.
For lightning users: Lightning Torrent, capable of chaining between multiple enemies.
For earth users: Golem Creation, allowing temporary summoning of a stone guardian.
For light users: AOE Healing Light, able to restore multiple allies at once.
"No dark elent representatives among them," Reva added with a chuckle, "So the ’Midnight Judgent’ card stays in the vault this year!"
A few in the audience laughed. Most dark-elent cultivators, after all, were either rare or reclusive.
As the lights faded on the lower eight platforms, Reva turned, stepping forward. Her smile deepened, voice hushed with reverence. "And now... the Quarterfinalists. Ranks five through eight. Those who stood just one battle away from glory."
Another pulse of spotlights lit up the upper stage.
One by one, the nas echoed:
"Freyja!"
"Selene Moon!"
"Rey Magnolis!"
"Elise!"
Cheers rose like waves. Freyja lifted her hamr slightly as a salute. Selene gave a graceful bow. Rey nodded in quiet composure. Elise, half-smiling, seed content to stand a step out in the spotlight.
"These four warriors will receive 5 million credits—and a very special Rank-8 Skill Card..."
At her cue, four holographic cards floated before each of them. Red with swirling sigils, they pulsed with primal energy.
"Berserker’s Blood."
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