Chapter 238: First Duel
The arena, carved deep within the mountain heart of Tharvaldur, echoed with distant footsteps and murmuring voices. Soft beams of artificial sunlight—filtered through glowing mana crystals embedded in the ceiling—bathed the stone stands in a warm glow. The crowd had not yet reached full capacity, leaving room for quiet conversation.
Noel sat beside Balthor, both of them watching as the arena floor was cleaned and restructured by the staff.
Balthor leaned back with a smug grin. "Hey kid, you made me some good money. I knew you wouldn’t lose. Keep it up."
Noel crossed his arms. "I told you—I don’t like losing. I’m competitive by nature." He glanced at the field below. "And if I keep this up, maybe I’ll start screwing with Torwan’s plans. If someone from the Tharvaldur Institute of Arcane Might suddenly starts loses a match with me, it could rattle him."
Balthor raised an eyebrow. "You think that bastard’s gonna mess up just ’cause he loses a bet?"
Noel didn’t look away. "He’s not just some gambler. He’s the academy’s director, and he’s got the King of Tharvaldur behind him. You told me the king changed ten years ago... and that’s when your brother showed up again."
Balthor blinked. "You think there’s a connection, lad?"
Noel shrugged. "We won’t know until we dig deeper. The tournament ends in about three weeks. We need to act before then. I don’t want more students ending up like that poor guy in the underground arena."
Balthor grunted, then smirked. "Well, you gave that big brute a proper beating. If I had gone down there, I could’ve done the same."
Noel looked at him, deadpan. "You’re the size of a beer keg."
Balthor chuckled heartily. "Small but deadly, lad. Small but deadly."
From their place in the mid-tier stands, Noel looked upward toward the highest balcony of the arena. Elevated and gilded with silver trim, it overlooked the entire coliseum with a commanding presence. Four figures sat behind a transparent mana-shield barrier—each one representing one of the major academies.