"We’ll see who’s going to win," Nolan said, his eyes sharp.
From behind, two won stepped forward, flanking Kyrion. It was Sela and Cora.
"Hey! How dare you talk to our boss like that?" Cora snapped.
"Yeah! What gave you the audacity to do that?" Sela added, her glare piercing.
Before Nolan could respond, Celia and Linda moved forward, forming a protective line.
"Don’t you dare co near our master—or speak to him that way!" Celia warned, her voice firm.
Linda Turning to Cora, she growled, "And you... the next ti you say that, I swear I’ll kill you."
Nolan’s brow furrowed as he leaned closer to Linda. "Wait... Celia and Linda, isn’t saying ’kill’ a bit too much?" he asked quietly.
Linda’s eyes hardened. "No, Master. It’s not. How dare she speak to you that way? I won’t let it slide. Not in the arena, not anywhere. If it cos to that, I won’t spare her."
Celia clenched her fists, nodding toward Cora. "So... you want a fight? Don’t worry, you’ll get it," she warned.
"Yeah, you two better be prepared," Cora added, her voice cold.
Kyrion stepped closer to Nolan, their eyes locking in a silent challenge. For a tense mont, neither spoke. Then, with a sigh, Kyrion turned his back.
"Let’s move," he said, addressing Sela and Cora.
Together, the three of them walked away, leaving Nolan standing there, his gaze following them until they disappeared from view.
"So he brought his companions... I didn’t even notice that," Nolan muttered, watching Kyrion, Sela, and Cora disappear from view.
"Yeah... we have to be careful," Linda added.
"Silly," Nolan said with a wry grin. "They can’t just be forgiven that easily."
Linda nodded, smirking. "Sa here. If we’re paired with them in the arena, I’m calling them out."
Before more could be said, the familiar voice of the Emissary who had arrived yesterday echoed through the arena, amplified by the wind-compressor device.
"Hey! Everyone—participants!" the Emissary called. "It is ti! Please take your seats in the stands. Empty seats have already been assigned for the crowd. Now, Veltra and Asta, you may step forward and prepare for your performance."
The participants shifted, following the directions. Veltra and Asta moved to the designated area for the competitors, while the rest of the participants took their places in the stands, carefully observing.
Nolan, Linda, and Celia found themselves sitting in the front row, eyes wide. "Wow... this site is amazing," Nolan whispered, taking in the sheer size of the arena.
The Emissary returned to the wind-compressor, ascending to the elevated area where the king’s throne stood—a massive high platform with two grand thrones and a dium one between them.
The arena imdiately fell silent as all eyes turned upward. The Emissary’s voice bood across the arena.
"I would like to introduce... our special guest, all the way from Sindra!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Participants leaned forward, curiosity and excitent mingling in the air.
"King... King... everyone, give a round of applause and be ready for our special guest—King Alvorin Evandor!" the Emissary announced.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, the noise echoing throughout the massive arena.
"And now, the Prince of Sindra, Alaric Evandor!" the Emissary continued. Again, the audience responded with enthusiastic applause, so standing to cheer.
"And finally, the King of the Empire, our very own King Rovanis Fenric!" The crowd roared in unison, clapping and shouting, their excitent filling the arena.
The Emissary’s tone shifted slightly as he added, "Unfortunately, his son, Prince zareth, is away visiting our neighboring country to help improve trade relations."
The crowd politely clapped in acknowledgnt, understanding the prince’s absence but still respectful of the announcent.
Nolan, Linda, and Celia sat in the front row, eyes wide with anticipation, taking in the grandeur of the arena and the prestige of the guests present.
"So now, since the announcent of our guests is complete, it’s ti to proceed. Step into the ring... Asta! From a small village in the northern region, capable of controlling ice, he has already earned the title of ice Master at just 19 years old. But he is not only skilled in magic—he is also deadly in both long-range and close-range combat. Step forward!" the Emissary declared, his voice booming across the arena as the gates slowly opened.
Asta walked through, and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Even Nolan, Celia, and Linda clapped, impressed by his presence. Asta raised his hand in acknowledgnt, waving at the spectators, who cheered even louder in response.
"And now, the second contestant, ready to participate in the opening match of this tournant... Veltra! Step forward!" the Emissary announced, and the gates swung open once more.
The audience’s excitent grew, anticipation filling the air as Veltra entered the arena, eyes sharp and focused, ready to face Asta in the first match.
The crowd erupted into cheers as Veltra stepped into the arena. From the Empire, this adventurer was B-rank, but not just any B-rank—Veltra wielded fire magic and was equally skilled with a sword, able to hold their own in close combat.
"Step forward... Veltra!" the Emissary announced, and the audience’s roar grew even louder, excitent rippling through the stands.
Across the ring, Asta and Veltra now faced each other, their gazes locked, both ready for the opening battle. The energy between them was palpable, and every spectator leaned forward in anticipation.
Before the fight could begin, the Emissary moved closer to the king, holding the wind-compressor device. "Before this fight proceeds," the Emissary said, "the King would like to make an announcent."
"Thank you, my great people, for coming today. I truly appreciate you taking the ti to witness this tournant," the King’s voice bood across the arena. "And now... the last person to step in, who will also make an announcent—the hero himself, Dalvin Baldric!"
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the sound echoing like thunder throughout the arena.
Beside Prince Alaric, a dium-sized throne had been placed, giving Dalvin a proper seat for the announcent.
From behind a grand curtain, the hero appeared, stepping into the light of the arena. He walked with a confident stride, raising his hand to wave at the audience. The crowd’s roar intensified, every spectator eager to see the fad hero in person.
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