Chapter 138: The Stage is Set
Bringing up the rear were Chris and Aurelia. Chris, solid and dependable as ever, simply nodded a greeting, his hand resting on the poml of his practice sword.
Aurelia, however, gave a sharp, appraising look, adjusting her non-existent glasses—a habit she fell into when analyzing.
"Don’t disappoint, Michael," she murmured, a faint, calculating smile playing on her lips.
"Your stock is currently quite high. A poor showing would be... fiscally unfortunate."
Leave it to Aurelia to fra combat potential in market terms.
Maria was absent. After the intensity of the Labyrinth and the subsequent infirmary stay, she had retreated into her usual cool reserve, preparing in solitude.
I hadn’t seen her since the healer cleared , but I knew she’d be watching, analyzing, waiting for her own mont to strike.
As we approached the Colosseum entrance, the crowd thickened. Students jostled for position, their voices a nervous cacophony.
We passed Eric William and his entourage. He stood apart, radiating an aura of cold fury. His third-place Labyrinth finish, coupled with the humiliation of needing Petric to carry him through the final stages after his solo rampage burned through his mana, had clearly pushed him to a breaking point.
He didn’t even look at us, his gaze fixed on the Colosseum gates as if he intended to burn them down with sheer willpower. His path to victory was now paved with a desperate, almost obsessive need to crush everyone, especially Leon and myself.
We filed into the designated waiting area for the Top 32 qualifiers—a large, vaulted chamber beneath the arena stands. The air here was cooler, slling faintly of damp stone and nervous sweat. Screens lined the walls, already displaying the newly generated tournant bracket.
My breath hitched slightly as I scanned the nas. The seeding was based on the combined scores from the Subjugation and Labyrinth trials. My first-place finish in both had secured the top seed.
[Tournant Bracket – Top Seeds]
Seed #1: Michael Wilson
Seed #2: Leon Lionheart
Seed #3: Eric William
Seed #4: Selena Veylan
Seed #5: Aiden Stromfang
Seed #6: Lyra Braveheart
Seed #7: Aurelia Miller
Seed #8: Elara Moonshade
Seed #9: Maria Frostheart
...
Seed #31: Kaelen Vance
Seed #32: Alex Vonstel
My eyes found Alex’s na at the very bottom. He stood nervously near the entrance, twisting the strap of his shield.
He had made it. Against all odds, his sheer tenacity in the Labyrinth, holding the line while I was inside the vortex, had earned him just enough points to qualify. Kaelen and Seraphina were there too, near the bottom but present. Our team of misfits had all made it to the final stage. A small spark of pride ward my chest.
My first opponent was Seed #32: Alex Vonstel.
A collective sigh of relief seed to emanate from the other top seeds.
The Rank 1 gets the weakest opponent first. How predictable. How fair.
But I didn’t feel relief. I felt a pang of... sothing else. Alex looked over, catching my eye. His face fell, a look of utter despair washing over him.
The boy who had just found his courage was now slated to fight the person who had inspired it, in the very first round, on a stage watched by the entire world.
The System, or perhaps the Academy’s seeding algorithm, had a cruel sense of irony.
"Don’t look so glum," I said, walking over to him. The surrounding students subtly shifted away, leaving us in a small pocket of silence. "This isn’t a punishnt. It’s an opportunity."
Alex looked up, confused. "Opportunity? Brother Michael, I... I can’t fight you."
"Why not?" I asked, keeping my voice low but firm.
"Because I’m Rank 1? Because I helped you? Ranks are just numbers, Alex. And friendship ends the mont we step into that arena. Tomorrow, you’re not my friend. You’re my opponent. And I expect you to fight with everything you have."
He stared at , his expression shifting from despair to disbelief, and then, slowly, to a dawning understanding. He saw the seriousness in my eyes, the respect I was affording him by not treating this as an easy win.
His shoulders straightened. The trembling stopped. He gripped his shield, his knuckles white.
"Everything I have," he repeated, his voice gaining strength. "Yes. I understand. I won’t disappoint you, Brother Michael."
I nodded once. "Good. Then may the best fighter win.".
As I walked away, I felt a different set of eyes on . Eric William was watching, a cold, calculating smirk playing on his lips. He thought he understood. See? The commoner preys on the weak first. He couldn’t fathom the idea of respect, of pushing soone to grow even if it ant facing them in battle.
The stage was set. The players were in position. The families were watching. And the Tournant of Champions was about to begin. The calm was over. The storm was here.
The roar of the crowd was a physical force, a tidal wave of sound that crashed against the reinforced crystal do of the Grand Colosseum.
Tens of thousands of spectators filled the stands—students, faculty, nobles in draped private boxes, common citizens who had won lottery tickets, and even representatives from guilds and foreign kingdoms.
Holographic broadcast drones sward the air like tallic insects, capturing every angle, transmitting the spectacle to millions across the continent.
The Arcade Hunter Academy Mid-Term Tournant wasn’t just an exam; it was a festival of power, ambition, and burgeoning legend.
Down on the sands of the central arena floor, the thirty-two qualifiers stood in neat formation, bathed in the brilliant morning sunlight streaming through the open sections of the do.
The sheer scale of the Colosseum, the sea of expectant faces, the weight of a world watching—it was enough to make even the most stoic heart hamr against the ribs.
I could see Kaelen visibly trembling, his knuckles white on his healer’s staff. Even Seraphina Croft’s usual arrogant posture seed a fraction less steady.
Alex, standing near the back with the other lower-ranked qualifiers, t my gaze across the distance.
He looked terrified, yes, but beneath the fear, there was a spark. A flicker of the resolve I had seen ignite the previous night. He gave a shaky, determined nod.
Everything I have.
__________
[Arena ]
Principal Herald Crimson stood on the central dais, flanked by Vice Principal Sophia Emberheart and Dean Derisu Nayak (whose presence sent a faint, unpleasant shiver down my spine – the lingering psychic residue from the Labyrinth?).
The Principal raised his hands, and a hush fell over the colossal stadium.
"Students! Honored Guests! Welco!" Herald Crimson’s voice, amplified by mana, bood across the arena, carrying warmth and authority in equal asure.
"Today, we witness the culmination of the first sester’s trials! The Tournant of Champions! Here, our brightest first-years will test their strength, their skill, and their spirit, not just against monsters, but against each other!"
He gestured towards the qualifiers.
"Thirty-two warriors stand before you, having proven their ttle in subjugation and survived the Labyrinth’s echoes. Now, they face the ultimate test: single combat! Only one will stand victorious, claiming the title of First-Year Champion and the grand prize....an Epic-grade weapon crafted by the master smiths of this Academy!"
The crowd roared again, the promise of glory and reward fueling their excitent.
"Let the duels be honorable! Let skill prevail! Let the Tournant of Champions... BEGIN!"
With a final, resonating strike of his staff against the dais, runes blazed across the arena floor. The solid ground dissolved into shimring light, replaced by thirty-two individual platforms, each linked to a dedicated VR interface system concealed beneath.
This wasn’t just a physical stage; it was a gateway to countless virtual battlefields.
[First Round Matches Comncing.]
[Environnt: Randomized Standard Arenas.]
Nas flashed on the giant holographic screens encircling the Colosseum do. The first pairings were called.
_____________
[ William Family]
Denish William watched the screen impassively, his golden eyes narrowed as the first few matches began. Fodder. Lower-ranked students, mostly commoners or minor nobles, flailing against each other with sloppy technique and weak mana control.
"Predictable," he muttered.
Somiya sighed dramatically beside him, fanning herself.
"Oh, must they show these dreary little skirmishes? When does our Eriky fight?"
"Patience, wife," Denish said, though his own gaze kept flicking towards the bracket, calculating Eric’s path to the finals.
Denish look at Eric eyes which were changed, it more look like a warrior than a heir , Denish was pleased with Eric recent changes in his behaviour.
Third seed. His first opponent was a forgettable Class B student. An easy victory. It was the later rounds—Lionheart, and potentially that commoner, Wilson...that concerned him.
Gideon stood silently behind them, his ancient eyes missing nothing.
He noted the slight tremor in Denish’s hand as he gripped the armrest, the flicker of maternal pride warring with impatience in Somiya’s expression.
The pressure on the Young Master is imnse, Gideon thought. May he wield it, not be crushed by it.
(To be continued)
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