Chapter : 359
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Chapter : 359
Julian felt a sudden shiver crawl down his spine. He took a very quick, very noticeable step backward. He created a wide gap between himself and Ken.
"Stay away from me, you filthy peasant," Julian hissed. He held his hand up defensively. "Do not come any closer. If you try to touch me or my guards, I will have you thrown in prison."
Ken chuckled. "I do not want to touch you. Gold is very cold. I prefer soft fabrics. Like cotton."
Julian glared at him from a safe distance. The Prince refused to get anywhere near the lazy slacker. He opted to hurl insults from behind his line of elite fighters.
"Your entire unit is an absolute embarrassment to the Belmontia name," Julian announced loudly. He made sure the passing nobles in the hallway could hear him. "You barely managed to scrape together a nine-person roster. You look like a group of beggars. Tomorrow, I am going to humiliate you on national television. I am going to make you beg for mercy."
Laxmi cracked her knuckles. A tiny spark of orange fire popped between her fingers. "I will melt that gold armor right off your back," she warned angrily.
Sayma pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose. She observed the 7th Unit carefully. She wanted to analyze their enemy before tomorrow's match. She looked at Julian's vanguard. She checked their weapons. She checked their stances.
Suddenly, Sayma stopped breathing. Her dark eyes went completely wide behind her lenses. She gasped softly.
"Sayma?" Princess Iris asked quietly. She noticed her Vice-Captain's shock. "What is wrong?"
Sayma could not speak for a second. She stared directly at a young man standing in the back row of Julian's vanguard.
The young man stepped forward. The crowd of gold-armored fighters parted to let him through. He walked to the front of the group. He stood right beside the 7th Prince.
He did not wear the standard gold and red armor. He wore a sleek, highly expensive dark gray combat suit. He had neat brown hair and warm brown eyes. He held a long, beautifully crafted magical rapier at his side. He looked polite, but his face was set in a very serious, rigid expression.
It was Scott.
It was the very same wealthy nobleman Sayma had met in the tea parlor. It was the respectable man whose marriage proposal she had rejected just a few days ago.
Sayma felt a cold knot form in her stomach. She had told Scott a massive lie. She told him she could not marry him because she was already in a passionate, deeply committed romantic relationship with Ken Eliot. Scott had promised to withdraw the proposal peacefully. He had promised to keep her secret.
But now, Scott was standing here. He was standing with the enemy. He was an official part of the 7th Unit's roster.
"Scott," Sayma whispered. Her voice trembled slightly. "What are you doing here?"
Scott looked at her. He offered a small, polite bow. He did not look angry at her. He actually looked very sad.
"Good afternoon, Sayma," Scott said smoothly. His voice carried across the quiet hallway. "I hope you are doing well. When I heard the 7th Prince needed to fill a vacancy on his tournament roster, I immediately offered my services. My family has strong political ties to his faction. I wanted to participate in this match."
Naomi looked back and forth between Sayma and Scott. She was completely confused. "Sayma, do you know this guy?"
"He is the nobleman from the tea parlor," Sayma murmured quietly to her team. "The one my parents wanted me to marry."
Zinia raised an eyebrow. "Wait. If he is the guy you rejected, why is he fighting for the enemy team? That seems very petty."
Scott heard Zinia's question. He turned his brown eyes away from Sayma. He looked past Princess Iris. He looked past Naomi and Laxmi.
His eyes locked directly onto Ken.
Scott’s polite expression completely shattered. His face hardened. A look of deep, burning jealousy and romantic distress filled his eyes. He glared at the messy, slouching boy in the navy blue suit. He gripped the hilt of his magical rapier very tightly.
The entire room could easily sense the sudden shift in the atmosphere. It was undeniable. Scott was not here for political glory. He was not here to support the 7th Prince. Scott was here for pure, personal revenge. He was here to destroy the man who had stolen Sayma's heart.
Ken popped another piece of candy into his mouth. He looked back at Scott. He blinked his sleepy eyes.
"Why is the gray suit guy staring at me?" Ken asked lazily. He pointed a finger at himself. "Do I owe him money? I am completely broke right now."
Scott took a slow, deliberate step forward. He did not look at anyone else. He only looked at Ken. The ultimate showdown was about to begin, and it was entirely fueled by a massive, hilarious misunderstanding.
---
The bright marble hallway of the Upper Council building was completely silent. The two rival Royal units stood facing each other. The tension was incredibly thick.
Scott stared directly at Ken. The wealthy nobleman looked absolutely furious. His brown eyes burned with intense jealousy. He truly believed Ken was a master warrior. He believed Ken had won Sayma's heart through bravery and passion. He saw Ken's wrinkled suit and untucked shirt. He thought it was a deceptive disguise.
Ken just slouched his shoulders. He chewed his candy slowly. He looked back at Scott with a totally blank, sleepy expression.
"You are Ken Eliot," Scott stated. His voice was loud and formal. It echoed down the corridor. "The man who captured the heart of the brilliant Vice-Captain. You hide behind a lazy exterior. But I know the truth. You must be a formidable opponent."
Ken stopped chewing. He tilted his head to the side. He looked incredibly confused.
"I am definitely not formidable," Ken replied honestly. He slouched even further. "I am actually very fragile. If I carry a bag of groceries for too long, my arms get incredibly sore. I need frequent rest breaks."
Julian let out a loud, mocking scoff. The 7th Prince stayed a safe distance away. "He is a complete joke, Scott. He is nothing but a cowardly peasant. I do not understand why you care about him."
"Do not insult him, Your Highness," Scott commanded strictly. He did not break eye contact with Ken. "He is playing a psychological game. He wants us to underestimate him. But I will not fall for it."
Scott took another step forward. He stood right in the middle of the empty space between the two teams. He placed his hand firmly on the hilt of his magical rapier. He stood up perfectly straight. He projected an aura of polite, absolute sportsmanship. But underneath the politeness, his romantic vendetta was completely obvious.
"Ken Eliot," Scott announced loudly. He raised his chin. "I issue a formal, direct combat challenge to you. During our tournament match tomorrow in the arena, I request a one-on-one duel. Just you and me. We will fight with honor. We will see who is truly worthy of standing by Sayma's side."