The crowd erupted into applause as Arthion officially announced the start of the festival.
People eagerly began roaming the streets, sampling food and drinks, their laughter and conversation blending with the festive atmosphere.
anwhile, Lindarion and the other nobles were led into a grand hall where an elaborate feast awaited them.
The interior glead with white marble and gold embellishnts, exuding an air of luxury.
'The usual pomp and extravagance…'
Shortly after, two more noble families arrived, clearly from different nations, judging by how their gazes swept across the hall, taking in every detail.
Including him.
Not all of them looked on with kindness.
'What was their problem?'
He rembered that his father's words about them had been odd, but this was sothing else entirely.
"They're sizing you up."
Seraphine's voice was barely more than a whisper in his ear—soft, subtle, ant for him alone.
'So, they're assessing .'
Before he could dwell on it further, the doors swung open once again, revealing three figures stepping inside.
'Sylvarion…?'
Lindarion imdiately tried to guess their holand upon seeing their silver-white hair flowing like strands of moonlight.
Two adults and a young girl strode in, their presence commanding the room as if they owned it.
All three wore the sa cold, detached expression.
'Is everyone from that country this icy?'
Without hesitation, they made their way toward the Sunblade family. The man among them had short hair, deep black eyes, and a neatly trimd beard that reached his shoulders.
The woman's hair cascaded to her waist, and her golden eyes shimred like stars in the night sky.
Then there was the girl—her hair barely touched the middle of her back, and her pitch-black eyes resembled the void itself, as if staring into them could pull in one's very soul.
'That's… unsettling.'
"The Silverleaf family," Seraphine whispered in his ear like a passing breeze.
'Why is she whispering… It's creepy.'
"Eldrin, we et again."
The man's voice matched his appearance—frigid and unyielding, like an ocean frozen over.
"Vaelion, Sylvaris, it is good to see you," King Eldrin replied respectfully, addressing the man and woman.
"And this must be your daughter?" His gaze shifted toward the girl.
"Luneth Silverleaf," she answered curtly, her tone sharp as ice.
'Why are they all so cold? Oddballs'
"lion." They greeted Queen lion with a simple nod as she approached from sowhere—Lindarion hadn't even noticed she was gone.
"And this must be your son. He looks just like you, Eldrin," Vaelion observed, his frigid gaze landing on Lindarion.
"Lindarion Sunblade," he introduced himself with a slight nod.
The girl—Luneth—kept staring at him.
Her presence felt… ghostly.
'She reminds of a certain individual..'
Lindarion glanced at Seraphine, only to find a questioning look on her otherwise stoic face.
"?"
'Never mind…'
Shaking off the thought, he turned his attention back to the others.
Before any more words could be exchanged, another noble family approached.
Both kings raised their eyebrows at their arrival.
A family of four, their jet-black hair instantly recognizable.
'Tirnaeth maybe? Based on their looks'
"Eldrin, lion," the man said with a chilling laugh, his gaze fixed on the Sunblade family. Sothing about him felt… off.
"Vaelion, Sylvaris," he continued, his eyes shifting to assess the Silverleaf family as well.
"Zael, Selith," Eldrin greeted in return, his voice steady.
Vaelion frowned, his expression tightening as he instinctively pulled his daughter behind him.
"Oh, co now, Vaelion, there's no need for such caution." Zael's voice oozed amusent, his grin stretching wider.
"And she must be Luneth, am I right?" His laughter was unsettling, a deep, guttural sound that seed to crawl out from the darkest pits of the abyss.
"These are our sons," Selith spoke with an eerie, composed tone, her voice both cold and unnervingly smooth.
"The younger one is Draven, and the older one is Sylas Vaerath." Her expression remained unreadable, but there was a weight to her presence that made the air feel heavier.
Zael's gaze flicked to Lindarion, his lips curling into a sharp, predatory grin. "And this one?"
"Lindarion Sunblade," Lindarion answered firmly before his father could speak.
Zael's grin widened. "Oh ho ho, Lindarion, you sound quite confident."
'What? How did this guy even co to that conclusion?'
Before he could respond, his father's firm grip landed on his shoulder. "He has every reason to be," Eldrin stated, his voice steady and authoritative.
Zael let out a dark chuckle. "Oh? And how old is this little warrior?"
His amusent was clear, and it only irritated Lindarion further.
He caught sight of Seraphine subtly grabbing his mother's hand, stopping her from doing anything rash.
Lindarion kept his voice strong as he answered. "Six years old."
For a mont, there was silence. Then, he saw it—Zael was barely holding back a laugh.
Lindarion didn't give him the chance.
"Even at six, I could defeat either of your sons in a duel."
That shut them up.
Zael and Selith exchanged glances before suddenly bursting into laughter.
'What's so funny?'
Lindarion glanced up at his father. His brow was furrowed, his jaw tight.
Zael wiped away an imaginary tear before shaking his head.
"Kid, Sylas is about seven years older than you, and he is soon to take the entrance exam for Evernight Academy. You wouldn't stand a chance. Right, Sylas?"
He clamped a hand onto his son's shoulder.
Sylas rely smiled—calm, unfazed, like so lifeless doll.
Vaelion and Sylvaris remained quiet, watching every little detail of the exchange with sharp, calculating eyes.
Then Eldrin spoke.
His voice thundered across the hall, cutting through the laughter like a blade.
"I think he would."
The room fell silent.
Eldrin turned to Zael, his expression unreadable. "Would you like to test that theory?"
Every noble in the hall turned to watch.
"Ah, Eldrin, you truly are a codian. Very well, let's have so fun!"
Zael let out a booming laugh before motioning his son forward.
Sylas stepped ahead, glancing at Lindarion with an amused smirk before turning back to his father.
"Father, I request two wooden swords—"
"Why wood? Are you afraid?"
Lindarion cut him off, stepping closer as his hand instinctively rested on the hilt of his sword.
Zael's expression darkened slightly, but he didn't protest. Instead, he gestured to one of his guards, who promptly handed him a real sword. Without hesitation, he placed it into his son's hand.
"Show them what you can do, my son."
Sylas nodded and began walking toward Lindarion.
Before the duel could begin, Eldrin's voice rang out, loud and authoritative.
"The match will continue until one of the guards deems an injury inevitable and steps in to intervene."
'Sounds easy enough. This won't take long anyways.'
At the ntion of injury, Queen lion's expression tightened. She cast her husband a sharp look, but he didn't acknowledge it.
Seraphine and Sylas' guard both stood ready, prepared to interfere at a mont's notice.
Sylas and Lindarion locked eyes, a silent agreent passing between them.
The Silverleaf family watched intently, their cold gazes unreadable. Around them, the other noble families murmured amongst themselves, eager to witness the outco.
'I'm going to finish this quickly…'
Then—
"Begin the duel!"
Eldrin's voice exploded through the hall like a cannon blast.
Reviews
All reviews (0)