CHAPTER 53: SO MUCH TO SAY BUT

Razeal finally took a deep breath the moment Nova vanished from sight, her chilling presence no longer pressing down on him like a mountain. His shoulders, tense and rigid all this time, sagged slightly as if only now realizing the strain. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, loud and relentless, as the adrenaline coursing through his veins made his body feel both heavy and hollow at once.

He wouldn’t lie not to himself.

He was fucking scared. Scared to the bone.

But he was still standing. Somehow.

His gaze drifted across the crowd that had watched everything in stunned silence. He ignored the sea of faces, their widened eyes, their barely concealed whispers starting to stir as the tension of the last moments began to crack apart. His mind felt like it needed a moment, just one, to rest.

The adrenaline still ran deep through his muscles, making his legs feel light, his hands trembling just the slightest bit, though he clenched his fists to hide it. Guess even if you don’t move much, when you know you’re about to die, your body does everything it can to survive. Razeal smirked faintly at his own thought, trying to steady himself.

And then, his attention turned inward.

"Were you saying anything, system? I heard some notification sounds ringing back then. What is it?"

The system didn’t hesitate.

[FUCK. YOU.]

The voice boomed in his head so loud and filled with venom that it almost made him flinch.

Razeal chuckled under his breath, rubbing his face with a shaky hand, trying to play it off.

"Well, guess side effects of not having a girlfriend for centuries. Even systems get cranky..." he muttered, running his fingers through his long royal purple hair, setting it in place again, trying to mask his nerves with humor.

But the system stayed silent, seething, and he could almost feel its fury burning at the back of his mind.

By now, most of the coliseum had started to rise. People dusted off their robes, their armors, even themselves and began sharing nervous glances. But their eyes inevitably returned all of them to the center of the arena.

To him.

The boy who had stood against death.

And now, the arena filled with whispers.

"Did you see that? He’s insane..."

"He rejected her offer... So fucking dumb..."

"I thought he was dead for sure. He still might be but still."

"Arrogance. Pure arrogance. He’s writing his own death sentence."

Razeal could hear it all. The excitement. The disbelief. The scorn. The judgment.

But he didn’t care. His eyes locked onto one man now. The only man that mattered in this moment.

Areon.

"Hey, dude," Razeal called out, his voice sharp, cutting through the murmurs. His tone was casual, but his eyes burned with purpose. "Are you going to accept it or are you just scared?"

His words hit the air like a slap. The crowd froze again, the whispers dying as quickly as they’d started.

Areon. The heir of the Drayven Duke family.

Areon stared at him. Silent. Still. His sharp gaze narrowed, meeting Razeal’s unwavering eyes across the distance. He said nothing at first, as if weighing everything, as if trying to see if there was some trick hidden beneath Razeal’s purpose again.

Seconds passed. Long, drawn-out, heavy seconds.

And then, Areon exhaled softly, his decision made.

"A week," he said at last, his voice firm, carrying over the quiet coliseum. "Our fight will be held in one week."

He didn’t need to think more. He could see it clearly now. Razeal wasn’t going to back down from this duel. Then why should he? Areon thought. The fool actually thought he had a chance.

Areon felt no fear. No doubt. He’d get what he wanted the royal bloodline essence that belonged to Razeal. The holy promise offered in wager? Oh, it was worth it. And Nova? She was gone. She wouldn’t interfere now. Not in the duel of honor. The laws of the land were clear.

And with that, Areon turned. Without another glance at Razel or acknowledging the stunned crowd or even sparing Selena a farewell, he strode away. His mind was already racing toward other matters.

The matters far greater than this duel pressed at him. He needed to inform his mother about the royal dragon’s heart first, uncover the secrets it might yield, and maybe he finally be able to learn the hidden techniques of his family.

As for the duel? He wasn’t worried. Not in the slightest.

A stepping stone to greater power.

His followers exchanged uncertain looks, scratching their heads as their leader left without a word of instruction. But loyalty kept them silent, and they soon followed.

And so, it was done.

"Alright... Good..." Razeal muttered under his breath. He hesitated for just a moment, feeling the gravity of what he’d signed himself up for. But what choice did he have? The duel would come, and he’d have his time. That was all that mattered. Time to figure out how to survive and win.

The arena stirred again. The tension giving way to excited energy.

"He accepted it..."

"A duel of honor... it’s official now..."

"This is madness..."

But the tone of the crowd had shifted. The excitement wasn’t for Razeal. It wasn’t for a heroic underdog story. No.

They were thrilled at the prospect of his execution.

"The public execution that didn’t happen six years ago..." someone whispered.

"A chance to see him die. For real this time."

"Biggest bet of the century... royal bloodline essence on one side, a holy promise on the other... no one will want to miss it."

The bloodlust in their voices was sickening, but Razeal didn’t flinch. He’d heard it all before.

The nobles smirked, already planning their gatherings, their celebrations. The duel was set. It couldn’t be undone now. By law, it had to happen.

And in their eyes?

It was a foregone conclusion.

Who could possibly stand against a swordmaster like Areon? Especially someone as "weak" as Razeal? Even the children in the stands could see the difference. They weren’t blind.

Razeal heard them. The mocking. The laughter. The planning of feasts for the day of his death.

And he just sighed.

Let them think it whatever they want.

Inside, though? His heart still raced. His mind burned.

Razeal shook his head, ignoring it all as he turned to leave. He had no time for this. His mind was already racing ahead he needed to plan. If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to become strong fast, then seven days. No...on the eighth day, it would be his battle. The duel that would decide everything.

"Raze... wait a minute... please."

The gentle voice came from behind. His body flinched instictively the moment he heard it Raze. That name. His childhood name. A name that once meant safety, family, home. But now? He didn’t even want to acknowledge it. He didn’t turn. Didn’t even slow. He forced himself to move, pretending he hadn’t heard it, refusing to let it reach. Not that it matters

Behind him, Selena stood quietly, watching his retreating figure. A small, sad smile crept onto her face. She closed her eyes, taking in a breath that trembled just faintly. Then she turned, as if to walk away in the opposite direction. But halfway through, her steps slowed. She hesitated, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

Without a word, she lifted her foot slightly, hovering just above the ground.

Tap.

"Radiant Bloom," she whispered, the words soft as a breeze.

The moment her foot touched the stone, a golden ripple burst outward. It spread like a circle of light, racing across the coliseum floor, shimmering like sunlight dancing on water. It passed through everything students, stone, debris with unstoppable grace.

And as it did

Those who were injured, or even those simply exhausted, felt it immediately.

"Ahh... my wounds... they’re healing?"

"Eh?! Damn... what is this?"

Students who had been leaning on one another, groaning in pain, or receiving hurried first aid froze as they saw gashes and bruises closing before their eyes. The golden ripple washed over them, filling their bodies with warmth. Fatigue lifted as if a great weight had been removed. Whispers of wonder spread through the crowd as their strength returned, their pain faded.

And still the ripple sped on toward Razeal.

He didn’t sense it coming. Since no power, no sharp senses to warn him. It struck him gently, passing through him like sunlight breaking through clouds.

His steps faltered. He looked down, confused, as the deep bite wound on his side a raw, half-burned mark sealed itself as if it had never been. The finger-shaped bruises on his face faded too, leaving only the dried blood as evidence they had ever been there at all.

Razeal stared for a moment, silent. Then, without so much as a glance back, he resumed walking. No word of thanks. No acknowledgment. Just silence. He left unspoken.

Selena watched him go. Her gaze lingered on his back as he disappeared among the crowd.

So you’re not even going to turn around, huh?she thought silently, the ache in her chest deepening.

She thought he would at least turn around and curse her for doing this without his permission. Even that would have given her a chance to exchange a few words with him, to bridge the silence between them just for a moment. But he didn’t even look back.

All she wanted truly was to run to him, to embrace him like before, to apologize, to pour out the countless things she longed to say and ask. But with so many eyes watching, so many people standing around, she could only smile faintly, holding herself together. Swallowing it all down, she turned again, walking away slowly, quietly, as if nothing had happened.

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