CHAPTER 86: THE CHAMPION [2]

His footing slipped. Too much Essence drain made his balance faltered.

"Tch!"

His slash missed, cutting only empty air as Asher managed to jump back.

He smirked and stepped in to counter, planting his foot to finish it, but—

He froze.

No!

Yet even as Alaric’s strike missed its intended target, something else happened.

The flame extended beyond his blade continued its arc.

Asher had thought himself safe, until the delayed flame slash caught him squarely across the chest.

"Argh!"

The warrior’s eyes went wide with shock as a deep, cauterized gash opened across his torso.

Blood began to gush, and his massive frame swayed like a felled tree.

Thud!

Asher collapsed to the arena floor, his war axe clattering away into the silence.

[Ding!]

[Congratulations! You have unlocked Scorchblade Arts (S) 2nd Form!]

[Flame Slash!]

[Ding!]

In the seats...

Varell’s face had turned ashen, his jaw clenched so tightly that veins stood out along his temples.

Beside him, Mirenna’s blue eyes blazed with murderous rage, her perfectly arranged hair now disheveled as her hands trembled with impotent wrath.

Caleb had gone pale.

Only Livia seemed different, her grey eyes wide with something that looked almost like relief.

Across from them, Selene sat with elegant poise, her emerald eyes dancing with barely concealed amusement.

A satisfied smile played at the corners of her.

Well done boy, she thought, her fingers finally relaxing their grip on the marble armrest.

The announcer’s voice rang out.

"The Champion of House Glimor stands victorious! By divine judgment of Ashurael, the Phoenix Trial concludes!"

Alaric cast one indifferent glance at Asher’s motionless form, ignoring the system prompt.

His crimson eyes showing no satisfaction or remorse, only the cold assessment of a warrior who had done what was necessary.

Without ceremony, he sheathed his sword and began walking toward the arena’s edge.

The crowd erupted into excited murmurs, voices overlapping as spectators tried to process what they had witnessed.

"Did you see that flame extend beyond his blade?"

"Impossible, the boy was nearly defeated!"

The elderly priest stepped forward, his ceremonial staff tapping against the marble as he moved to the center of the arena.

His weathered voice carried the weight of divine authority as it echoed through the suddenly quiet space.

"Lady Selene Glimor. Lord Varell Duskwood. Step forward to receive Ashurael’s judgment."

Both rose from their seats with measured dignity, though their internal states could not have been more different.

They descended to the arena floor and approached the eternal flame, standing on opposite sides of the sacred brazier that had witnessed their conflict’s resolution.

The phoenix-carved flames danced between them.

The elderly priest looked toward Selene and gave a solemn nod of acknowledgment.

Selene returned the gesture with practiced grace, then turned her emerald gaze to Varell. Her usual composed smile settled on her lips.

"Lord Varell, you knew about our agreement, correct?" Her voice carried across the arena with deceptive gentleness.

Varell’s hands clenched at his sides, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain what dignity remained.

After a long, shuddering exhale, he spoke, "Yes... I know."

Selene inclined her head graciously, "Very well then. You will stay away from my daughter, and..."

Her lips curved into something far more predatory than a smile.

"I want..."

***********

Tap! Tap!

The soft echo of footsteps resonated through the marble corridors as a figure in a black cloak with crimson lining made his way slowly down the passage, limping.

Phew, that was close,

Alaric thought to himself, one hand pressed lightly against his ribs.

The adrenaline was beginning to fade, leaving behind the familiar ache of overextended muscles and depleted essence reserves.

He pulled his hood up as he approached their designated chamber.

Then he halted mid-step as a familiar figure came into view, standing like a statue near the chamber’s entrance gate.

Livia Duskwood stood with her back partially turned, her inky black hair cascading in gentle waves over the shoulders of an elegant gown of deep forest green.

The dress was cut in the latest court fashion, modest yet refined, with silver embroidery along the bodice that caught the corridor’s torchlight.

A delicate silver chain at her throat held the tear-shaped pendant she’d clutched earlier, and her grey eyes seemed to hold storms as they stared at something only she could see.

Slowly, Alaric made his way toward her, each footstep echoing softly in the marble passage.

At the sound of his approach, Livia’s head turned sharply, and she quickly straightened from her contemplative pose, her hands smoothing down her skirts in a nervous gesture.

"Good afternoon, Lady Livia," Alaric said, inclining his head in a brief but courteous nod despite his exhaustion.

Livia returned the greeting with a small curtsy, her voice barely above a whisper.

Then she opened her mouth as if to continue, then paused. "Umm..."

Alaric blinked, studying her conflicted expression with mild curiosity. "You about to say something, milady?"

"No, it’s nothing," she said quickly, shaking her head.

But her grey eyes betrayed the swirling emotions inside her.

Curiosity flickered in Alaric’s crimson eyes as he studied her hesitant posture.

"Why are you standing outside?"

Livia glanced at him, then quickly averted her gaze back toward the chamber entrance, her fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the pendant at her throat.

"Well..." she began, her voice trailing off uncertainly.

Following her line of sight, Alaric peered through the partially open doorway and immediately understood. Inside the chamber, Mirenna’s voice carried with sharp clarity as she unleashed her fury on her son. Her golden-brown hair whipped as she gestured angrily.

Caleb stood before her like a chastened child, enduring the verbal lashing.

"—completely humiliated our family! How could you be so confident when that boy was clearly—"

"T-They’re just..." Livia stammered, searching for diplomatic words to describe the storm raging within.

Her eyes darted between Alaric and the chamber, clearly uncomfortable with being caught between her family’s rage and this unexpected encounter.

But then Alaric surprised her with a soft chuckle.

"It’s fine," he said simply.