The arena remained unchanged. Just stone and silence.
Ayling flew around camera drones, pointing at the crowd.
"Well, that was an eventful first half!"
"Now we move on to the semi-finals!"
"Yeah!" the crowd yelled.
Ayling chuckled, "Alot of you know him....The first match: Jacob Lacura vs Naeva Solene!"
The crowd yelled.
Those watching across the whole of Eldris, excited to witness the so called, 'Golden boy'.
One of those being the King himself, Azarel.
He watched in his booth with his children, and multiple guards surrounding the platform.
He watched with a gentle smile.
The spectacle of the showcase was always well appreciated.
The moment Naeva stepped forward, her spirit flared.
Not visually, but viscerally. Those watching felt it more than anything.
She paced to the centre, the faintest shimmer of a pact mark spiralling down her shoulder.
Jacob strode, casually.
He yawned.
"Let's get this over with."
Ayling raised an eyebrow from above.
"Begin!" he yelled.
Naeva moved first. Form clean, fluid.
Air magic twisting through her limbs.
She didn't summon her spirit.
She wanted to win without it.
Jacob's defence was subtle - too subtle.
A flick of the wrist.
shimmer
Her magic dissipated like it wasn't there
"He's distorting her wind vectors without casting..."
Snap!
He snapped his fingers.
A glowing beast sigil erupted on the ground.
Three spectral hounds. Clad in fire.
They surged towards Naeva.
WHOOSH!
She danced around them with ease.
But it was all a distraction.
Closing the distance, shorter than a blink.
She was trapped.
Her body frozen mid-dash.
Movements stuttered.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"You're good, just not good enough..."
One final pulse.
Her spirit flickered in an attempt to save her...
It didn't arrive in time.
She was beaten.
Not broken.
Outclassed however.
She dropped to one knee.
"Winner: Jacob Lacura"
The applause was instant.
"Sure enough...!"
"Jacob!"
They loved him.
Naeva stood up slow, walking away slow.
Jacob stood there in the middle, rooted but not in celebration.
He just stood there.
All eyes were on him.
It was all his.
-----
"Fantastic!" King Azarel sounded. Clearly happy at the results.
The foreign parties watched Jacob's legend from the first day.
He was going to be a problem in the interplanetary tournament.
That was for sure.
"Sharp win from Jacob!" Ayling sounded.
"He advances to the coveted final round. A chance to represent Eldris".
They shouted more.
Even some of the nobles who once doubted him were on their feet.
Flags waved, a storm of sound swelling around his name.
It was deaf with noise.
Too much noise.
For anyone else, it might've felt like victory.
Not for the one watching from the corridor in silence.
-------
Now came the next name.
Kalen Voss.
He stepped forward.
Sharp eyed, his walk steady despite the strain in his lungs.
He was in pain.
The heat in his gaze didn't falter.
Across him stood Caelun.
Unassuming. Quiet. A mystery even to his peers.
But he had seen enough.
Their eyes met.
He stared at his poor condition.
Caelun nodded...
No stance. No energy drawn.
No challenge offered.
He turned his back and walked away.
Gasps rippled through the stands.
"Kalen Voss advances," Ayling said, after a long pause.
No cheers. Just murmurs.
"Another forfeit?"
"What's going on?"
Confusion was apparent.
"Atleast it's Jacob vs Kalen in the final"
The voice of reason spoke out in the crowd.
At-least they had their star match up.
The crowd shifted.
Slow cheers rose.
Louder than before.
This was what they had been waiting for.
A match to be happy with.
The top two.
The prince and a monster.
------
In an observation room on one of the balconies.
The Elite Class, the remaining 13 members all sat.
Fayl leaned back in his seat, "Well", he said, voice light. "at least I didn't get beat in public. That's gotta count for something."
Aelana gave him a look, bandages on her body. "You didn't even step in the ring."
"Strategic retreat," Fayl grinned. "Preserving the legend."
"Selle scoffed from the corner, wounds already healed. "You forfeited."
"Exactly. I'm still undefeated." he tapped his chest.
That drew a few smirks.
A short silence followed.
Mira's soft voice broke through, "...Do you think Kalen can win?"
No one answered.