The exams had finally come to an end. The once thunderous coliseum now simmered with the mixed sounds of joy and disappointment. Some examinees cried tears of pride as they were welcomed into the ranks of the Magic Knights, their dreams finally realized. Others stood silent, their heads lowered in quiet frustration, forced to watch their hopes dissolve into the dust of the arena floor.
The Magic Knight official, still standing at the center of the grand stage, raised his hand for silence. His magically amplified voice echoed through the now-settling crowd.
"The Magic Knights Entrance Examination has officially concluded! All selected candidates, report to your assigned squad representatives for formal enlistment. Everyone else, please clear the grounds immediately to prepare for the next royal event!"
His tone was firm, but respectful.
Within minutes, the once-crowded field began to empty. Commoners, nobles, and hopefuls alike exited the main arena, excitement and chatter fading into the corridors. Groups of uniformed mages appeared next — assistants and maintainers of the royal stage — swiftly removing leftover debris, spent mana residue, and broken crystal fragments from earlier tests. The air grew clean again, the mana stabilizing as the last of the lingering dust cleared.
Once the preparations were complete, the same official stepped forward again, voice echoing across the pristine coliseum. His expression grew more formal, posture straightening as his voice projected across the vast space.
"We now begin the announcement of the Royal Duel!"
His tone deepened, reverent and ceremonial.
He turned toward the royal balcony, lowering his head respectfully.
"First, we extend our gratitude to His Majesty, King Augustus Kira Clover XIII, ruler of the Clover Kingdom, for his gracious presence."
He then turned slightly to the side, bowing again.
"We also offer our deepest respect to His Excellency, Wizard King Julius Novachrono, protector and guide of this realm's magical legacy."
Straightening, he continued, voice steady.
"We further acknowledge the honored presence of the Magic Knight Captains, whose leadership ensures the continued strength of our kingdom."
The crowd, now filled with nobles and officials, applauded lightly — a formal, respectful sound that rippled through the stands.
Then, the official raised his voice again, clear and strong.
"By royal decree, we shall now witness the Royal Duel — a battle for honor and alliance, between the House of Ashbourne and four noble families of esteemed standing: House Thorne, House Alderay, House Velnir, and House Lorin."
The crowd stirred, whispers running like a wave through the noble boxes.
"By decree of His Majesty, this event has been sanctioned to resolve the royal challenge placed before the throne.
The House of Ashbourne, represented by Lord Nova Ashbourne, shall defend the royal proposal issued personally by His Majesty to grant Princess Sarphina's hand in marriage.
However, four noble families — House Thorne, House Alderay, House Velnir, and House Lorin — have formally contested this union and now stand as challengers to his claim.
Lord Nova must face the heirs of each of these houses in succession.
Should he emerge victorious, the royal engagement shall be recognized and sealed before the court.
But should he be defeated… he shall lose both the duel — and the right to the Princess's hand."
He paused, letting the weight of those words hang in the air, surprising many those who didn't know.
Then, he looked toward the arena gates as the mana in the air began to shift again — heavier, primal, wild.
The announcer's voice carried across the arena, steady but reverent, as the first challenger's name echoed through the coliseum.
"The first challenger — heir to one of the Four Founding Houses of the Clover Kingdom — the bloodline of the wild and the untamed… House Thorne!"
A wave of awe and respect rippled through the stands.
"The noble houses of Thorne, Alderay, Velnir, and Lorin are among the oldest and most influential in the kingdom," the announcer continued, his tone swelling with ceremonial grandeur. "Their ancestors fought alongside the royal family during the founding of Clover itself — warriors and mages whose might carved the very foundation of our kingdom."
He paused, letting the weight of history linger in the air.
"Even now, these houses retain a privilege no others possess — the right to maintain their own private armies. A symbol of their status as the four pillars that once stood beside the crown."
The announcer's voice deepened, almost reverent as he spoke next.
"House Thorne's bloodline wields Beast Magic — a primal and ancient power capable of summoning magical beasts formed from a user's elemental affinity. These creatures are no mere illusions but living manifestations of the caster's own instincts and mana. At their peak, they can evolve and grow beyond even their summoner's strength."
The massive arena gates rumbled open.
From within the shadows emerged a towering figure clad in deep green armor traced with silver claw patterns. His amber eyes gleamed beneath his helm, his mana pulsing with feral rhythm.
"Presenting, Lord Arden Thorne, heir of House Thorne — wielder of the Beast King's bloodline!"
The crowd cheered wildly, nobles raising their hands in applause as Arden stepped into the light, his mana growling through the air like a restrained predator.
But the announcer wasn't finished.
His voice turned again, echoing across the coliseum as the second gate shimmered with golden light.
"And his opponent…"
The words hung for a moment before he continued, tone clear and commanding.
"The only surviving member of the noble House of Ashbourne, once renowned throughout the kingdom for their mastery in artifact creation and magical engineering. Though their name was nearly lost to history, one man has brought it back into prominence — through power, intellect, and unmatched versatility."
The golden shimmer intensified as Nova Ashbourne stepped forth — his long black coat flowing behind him, his presence calm but commanding. The air around him crackled faintly with mana from multiple elements swirling in harmony.
"Bearer of the four-leaf clover grimoire, and known for his mastery over numerous elements — including the revered Light Magic, said to be blessed only to those chosen by fate itself… presenting, Lord Nova Ashbourne!"
A silence followed — not from lack of respect, but sheer awe.
Two nobles, two bloodlines of prestige and power, standing at opposite ends of the coliseum.
One born to rule through legacy.
The other, reborn to challenge fate itself.
The air inside the coliseum shimmered with mana and anticipation — tension so thick it seemed to hum through the walls. Nobles leaned forward from their seats, commoners held their breath, and the Magic Knights stood silently in formation.
Just as the announcer raised his hand to signal the beginning of the match, a radiant flare of gold illuminated the royal balcony, drawing every gaze upward.
The announcer immediately lowered his head, voice booming with reverence.
"Before the duel commences, all rise and pay respect to Her Highness, Princess Sarphina Clover, younger sister of His Majesty, King Augustus Kira Clover XIII!"
The crowd erupted into motion — nobles rising swiftly, bowing toward the upper terrace. Even the captains inclined their heads as the Princess stepped forward into view.
Princess Sarphina appeared at the center of the balcony like a vision of elegance and power intertwined. Her long, silvery-blonde hair flowed down her back in soft waves, threaded with golden strands of mana that shimmered faintly in the light. Her gown was royal white trimmed in deep sapphire and gold, adorned with fine embroidery of the Clover sigil. The fabric itself seemed alive, catching light like flowing starlight, while her jewelry — a sapphire diadem, crystal earrings, and golden bangles — sparkled with quiet enchantment.
Her presence radiated composure — every movement deliberate, poised, and dignified.
A murmur rippled through the nobles seated below:
"By the gods… she's even more radiant in person."
"The King's sister truly carries the blood of royalty."
"That dress — it's woven with royal enchantments!"
Her expression remained calm, unreadable as she paused before the gathered arena. But her eyes drifted past the crowd, past her brother seated proudly at the throne beside Wizard King Julius, and down toward the arena.
Her eyes found Nova Ashbourne.
For a fleeting heartbeat, time seemed to still.
She studied him as if to confirm what she already knew: that despite standing against the heirs of the kingdom's most powerful houses, his composure remained unshaken.
Nova met her eyes, his expression softening just slightly. A faint, confident smile tugged at his lips — calm, unbothered, assured.
Princess Sarphina blinked once, then gave the faintest of nods — a subtle, wordless exchange between them that didn't escape the attention of anyone watching closely.
Particularly not Arden Thor
From across the field, Arden Thorne's golden eyes narrowed beneath his helm. He followed her gaze, expecting it to meet his… only to find that the princess hadn't spared him so much as a glance.
Her attention — and acknowledgment — were entirely for Nova.
His fingers twitched, a flicker of irritation crossing his composed face before he forced his expression back into a smirk.
Princess Sarphina finally turned, her gown rippling like moonlight as she faced the court once more. She gave a graceful bow to the audience, her voice carrying lightly,
"May the duels be fair and worthy of the Clover name."
Then she turned and disappeared behind the royal curtain, her silhouette fading into the shadows of the balcony.
The announcer raised his hand once more, voice echoing clear and powerful:
"By royal order — the first duel of the Royal Challenge shall now commence!
House Thorne versus House Ashbourne!"
The arena barrier flared to life, glowing gold. The crowd erupted in cheers as both grimoires floated upward — one burning with wild, feral mana, the other radiating steady, blinding light.
The Royal Duels had officially begun.
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CHAPTER:- [136 - THE REAL PLAN] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON