"ARE YOU READY?" the announcer shouted, his voice booming across the packed arena. The crowd erupted into cheers, the sand trembling beneath the roar of thousands. Loyd lowered his stance, aura flaring like a living flame, his eyes locked on Liza, who now balanced perfectly on one leg, her other raised high and ready to strike.
ROOOOOAAAAR
The cheers were silenced in an instant when a thunderous roar rattled every ear. Heads tilted skyward, hearts pounding as the red behemoth, Abeloth, cut across the sky above Obidos. His massive wings stretched wide, blotting out the sun, casting the city below in a crimson shadow.
Three silhouettes dropped from the heavens, descending toward the arena with lethal grace. Ali landed smoothly before his throne, his white dragon coat flowing like liquid fire. Behind him touched down two figures, cloaked entirely in black, their features hidden beneath enchanted fabric.
Ali's black eyes scanned the arena. Not a word left his lips, yet the effect was immediate—heads bowed low across the stands, knights dropped to their knees along the edges of the sand, and silence swept through the crowd like a storm. His gaze lingered on the demi-human warriors, who stood proud amidst the kneeling humans.
The elder of their group gave Lyria a sharp look. With clear reluctance, she lowered herself to one knee, surprising her comrades. Their teeth clenched in unison, but one after another they followed suit. Abeloth roared again above, the sound vibrating through their sensitive ears until even the proudest warrior's defiance faltered.
Ali stood like a sovereign for a full minute, watching them, weighing them, before turning and lowering himself into his throne. That single act was the signal—the audience raised their heads once more, their eyes nervously returning to the arena.
Loyd, however, remained kneeling in the sand, head bowed deeply before his lord.
Ali raised a single hand and flicked his wrist toward the announcer.
"FIGHT!" the man bellowed.
The instant the word left his lips, Liza vanished, her speed tearing up sand in her wake. She struck with a high kick cloaked in aura, but Loyd slipped aside, the air beside him detonating in a small shockwave from the sheer force.
Her follow-up came instantly—a spinning side kick slamming toward him. Loyd braced, his sword intercepting the blow. The clash forced him back three meters, his boots dragging trenches in the sand.
From his throne, Ali leaned on one hand, watching with cold interest as the duel unfolded. Liza's speed was monstrous, but Loyd held firm, steel clashing with flesh, his swordsmanship precise. Ali's thoughts moved quicker than the fight itself:
Cassian's swordsmanship, Thorgar's indomitable heart, Elden's brute strength… yes, the boy carries all of it.
The duel raged, sand spraying as Loyd ducked low, scooping a handful and hurling it into Liza's eyes. She hissed, blinded for a moment, and stumbled into a sloppy strike—blocked cleanly by Loyd's sword.
Interesting… Ali narrowed his gaze. I sense no Origin within him. Perhaps fate had condemned him to live and die in the mines, never knowing battle. Did I change his destiny? If so, could that same destiny awaken Origin… or is it fixed from birth?
His eyes drifted, already knowing who would triumph.
Behind him, Kaelyra whispered, "He's going to lose…"
Eryndis turned, frowning. "Why?"
"The demi-human is holding back," Kaelyra said, her tone sharp, confident. "She's masking her true power. That's Level Three aura—but she's restraining it."
Ali allowed himself a faint smirk. "Good observation. She's using techniques that only work with the speed and strength of a Level Three aura. Restricting herself to Level Two makes her movements… awkward."
"So the human has no chance," Eryndis said quickly, just as Loyd pressed forward and the crowd roared with excitement.
"Not exactly," Ali replied. His voice was calm, final. "The tournament forbids her from using Level Three aura. If she unleashes it, she forfeits. If she doesn't, she cannot overcome him. On his level, Loyd is a monster."
Both elves nodded, silent now.
"Master, you're amazing," Eryndis whispered, eyes shining with admiration.
Ali ignored her. He had already noticed her irritating habit of praising him at every turn. Instead, his mind turned to a thought: 'But what if she revealed her true strength? Would Loyd rise to meet her… or break beneath it?'
The fight reached its climax. Loyd struck downward with his blade, Liza countering with a kick. Then, in a shocking twist, Loyd flipped forward mid-air and slashed again, mimicking Cassian's legendary manoeuvre with flawless execution.
The second strike slipped past her guard. Her defence shattered, and Loyd seized the moment, slamming his sword hilt into her abdomen. She gasped, stumbling back—only for him to lunge, pinning her to the ground with the edge of his blade resting cold against her throat.
"WE HAVE A WINNER!" the announcer roared. The stands exploded in a frenzy of cheers, the humans rising to their feet, chanting Loyd's name. Pride and relief gleamed on their faces. Across the arena, demi-humans seethed, their fury barely contained.
CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.
Ali's hands came together slowly, three deliberate claps. The sound cut through the chaos, and silence fell like a blade. He rose from his throne, towering above the arena, eyes locked on the two fighters. Loyd and Liza stood, breathing hard, but both extended their hands and shook them firmly.
"Well done," Ali said, his voice carrying effortlessly. "Both of you."
He raised one hand, and from the air itself an artifact appeared—hovering above the sand. The crowd gasped as a full set of elven armour materialised, its enchanted surface glowing faintly.
Every merchant present understood its value. Armour forged by elves was worth a fortune, layered with enchantments for durability, speed, lightness, and countless protections. Ten thousand gold coins could not buy such a prize.
"Your reward," Ali announced, his tone final.
Loyd dropped to one knee, bowing deeply, his voice strong despite his exhaustion. "Thank you, my lord. You honour me with this gift, and I swear to wear it in defence of your people and lands."
Liza, standing beside him, exhaled in defeat, lowering her head with grace.
Ali said nothing more. With a turn of his heel, he took one step forward—and vanished, the cloaked elves disappearing with him in the same breath.
Gasps rippled through the arena.
In the blink of an eye, they appeared in the castle courtyard.
'Shadow Step', Ali thought. 'A clean spell. Consumes only 0.1 Spirit per use, grants me forty percent speed within shadows. The elves use additional spells to extend shadow coverage—but why bother, when my dragon can enlarge my shadow?'
The guards kneeled as Ali strode through the gates. Inside, maids lined the halls in perfect formation, heads bowed. At the bottom of the grand stairs stood Melissa and Grace.
Grace sat in a finely crafted wooden wheelchair, her face bright with joy, while Melissa stood tall beside her. The black-and-blue dress she wore framed her elegance perfectly, sheer silk revealing just enough to accentuate her cleavage without vulgarity. She was radiant.
"My lord," Melissa said, bowing gracefully, her voice warm.
"Melissa," Ali said, his eyes briefly softening. "You look beautiful."
He ruffled Grace's hair, earning a giggle, then extended his hand toward Melissa. A crystal flower appeared in his palm, its crystalline petals shimmering with faint light.
"For you," he said, handing it to her.
Melissa's cheeks flushed red as she accepted it delicately. "Ali… it's beautiful. I—I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything," Ali replied simply.
Behind him, the elves exchanged shocked glances. Eryndis nearly gasped aloud. 'He's giving that away? Just like that?'
But they didn't know the truth. The flower Melissa now held was no relic—it was a replica, crafted by Miles at Ali's behest. A clever safeguard. If he ever left the elves behind at the castle, they would think twice before acting against a woman holding such an artifact.
Melissa clutched it close, her blush deepening as Ali turned toward the stairs.
Inside his office, he found Fiona waiting.
The young mother was dressed in a bright yellow gown, her brown hair flowing like silk, her golden eyes nearly glowing in the sunlight streaming through the window. She looked like a forest princess holding her daughter in her arms. With a gentle smile, she set the child down in the crib.
"You're back," she said softly, stepping closer.
Ali studied her beauty, allowing himself a rare moment to simply look at her. "How is it," he murmured, "that you glow brighter every time I see you?"
Fiona flushed, caught off guard. His hand lifted hers, and to her surprise, he kissed her snow-pale knuckles, his black eyes never leaving hers.
She pulled in a small breath, heart racing.
"Ali… it's good you're back, but…" her tone shifted, quiet but concerned. "Will you tell me what happened? Scouts spoke of the forest…"
Ali didn't answer her. Instead, he turned his head toward the cloaked women. "Take them off."
The elves obeyed, pulling back their hoods. Fiona's eyes widened, her golden gaze locking on their dark grey skin, silver hair, and glowing violet eyes. She stepped back in shock.
"No… their kind?" she whispered, her voice trembling. Her gaze snapped back to Ali. "Do you know what they are? Wait—don't tell me you—"
"Yes," Ali said simply, cutting her off.
"Ali!" Fiona's voice cracked with worry. "Don't you know what that means? Even if you survive their rituals, the effects are permanent! They steal your lifespan, your vitality!" She gripped his arms tightly, desperation in her touch. "This could cripple you. It has crippled knights before…"
Ali looked down at her, calm. "It doesn't work on me. And if they did steal something… it wasn't enough to matter."
"What do you mean?" Fiona's voice lowered, searching his eyes.
"Fiona," Ali said evenly. "You still think I'm a demon?"
Her eyes widened. "What? No. You're far from normal, but you're no demon. You're… too kind for that."
Ali chuckled quietly. "Kind, hm? Fiona… I'm immortal."
Her breath hitched. "Immortal?"
"Not in the absolute sense," he clarified, "but my lifespan… it's no longer human."
Fiona's lips parted, her hand still holding his. "Ali… what do you mean?"
For the first time, he looked like he might reveal a part of himself long hidden. Fiona held her breath, rubbing his hand softly, urging him to continue.
"When I was young," Ali said slowly, his voice carrying weight that silenced the room, "I met with a dragon. A very powerful, ancient dragon…"
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