CHAPTER 87: MICHA’EL’S JEALOUSY

Three years ago, after the brutal battle against Vulkris and the Nightral, everyone- even the Queen herself- had been pushed to their limits.

It was a fight none of them were prepared for, and yet, through raw grit and unfortunate sacrifices, they survived.

Those who stepped up that day were honored- especially Mathe’s brave stand against the Nightral alone.

After Mathe’s, some with significant contributions were also recognized. Some were even elevated to hero status by the Queen and the elders themselves.

Micha’el was one of them.

Alongside the other young standouts like Leon’do, Gondar, and Anast’cia, he had stood tall- bleeding, bruised, but victorious.

He’d faced the White Fang and even survived a skirmish with its mutated form, the full-fledged Nightral. For that, he earned praise. Cheers and even proud slaps on the back.

However, it was not the recognition he expected.

Not the one he believed he deserved.

Because when the Queen finally gave her official address- when the tribal leaders gathered and the songs of the battle were first sung- there was one name that kept being mentioned over and over.

Not his.

But Auren’s.

The outsider.

The leecher.

The frame-less human.

The outsider who, if the two elders were to be believed, had somehow survived a head-on clash with Vulkris in Inferna Hollow.

The same boy they claimed had shifted the tide of battle when everything was crumbling- when even the Queen’s life hung by a thread- and whose actions, in some twist of fate, led to Runewood’s salvation through her own brave sacrificial form.

The Queen had lavished Auren with praise while he was still unconscious, painting him in a light so radiant it almost felt rehearsed.

As if trying to win the hearts of the elven people on his behalf, she went as far as calling him the miracle of Runewood.

And Micha’el? He just stood there in the background, applause dying in his ears, pride curdling into bitterness.

His craved spotlight is barely even present anymore.

From that moment on, something inside him shifted. The jealousy was quiet at first- just a sting. But it grew. Festered.

Until it turned into something darker.

He never forgot the humiliation of being sidelined by someone he saw as unworthy. And he made himself a promise that day:

’Just wait, Auren. One day, I’ll show them. I’ll make everyone see the real difference between us.’

Now at present, standing atop the Kadena ring with the crowd watching and the stage set- he couldn’t help but remember that day.

’That day has finally come.’ Micha’el thought as he tightened his grip on his massive sword.

The moment Auren stepped onto the stage, the atmosphere shifted.

"Now we’re talking!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"Come on, Micha’el! Show that human the difference between elves and humans!"

The crowd’s excitement swelled- until a firm voice cut through the cheers.

"NO! I REFUSE!"

Jaira landed on the platform in a swift, graceful leap- urgent, but poised. Without hesitation, she stepped between Auren and Micha’el, planting herself like a barrier of sheer will.

"As someone entrusted by the Queen Mother- and the one who oversaw Auren’s recovery- I can’t allow this fight to happen."

She shifted her gaze to Rhiki on the sidelines, making sure her words carried.

"Have you all forgotten? He’s still healing from his injuries that he got after saving your asses."

Hearing her words, Rhiki only scoffed and turned his gaze away. Unbothered.

Still, Jaira’s arms were outstretched now, forming a firm wall between the two. Her glare held steady, sharp enough to carve stone.

Micha’el arched a brow, clearly unbothered with her words.

"What are you talking about? This is the usual welcome. A proper Kadena greeting- especially for someone who’s supposedly not ordinary."

A few elves around the courtyard chuckled and nodded. The mood began tilting back in his favor.

"If he’s standing here with that kind of confidence," Micha’el went on, his voice smug, "then surely he knows what he’s stepping into. And let’s be honest- he’s not one of us. Why should we treat him like he is?"

Jaira’s scowl deepened. "Because he grew up with us?"

Micha’el turned to the crowd, spreading his arms theatrically. "That doesn’t change what he is."

Shouts rose like poison bubbling to the surface:

"He’s right!"

"Humans belong in human lands!"

"If he wants to play elf, he better be ready for the elven rules!"

"Let him feel the gap- so he knows where he really

belongs!"

Jaira’s fists clenched. Her breath shook, eyes burning with restrained fury.

’Idiots...’

Just as Jaira parted her lips to lash out, Auren gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It’s alright. I really do appreciate it, Jaira- but don’t wear yourself out on my account."

With a quiet sigh, he stepped forward, his gaze locking onto Micha’el.

"You’re not wrong," he said evenly.

"If surviving the Fang-Trial thing didn’t cut it, then fine. I’ll earn it all over again."

Though his body still throbbed with the weight of recovery, Auren straightened his posture-standing not like someone desperate to prove a point, but like someone ready to reclaim it.

"Although I’m still recovering... I’ll ask anyway. What do I need to do to prove I belong here?"

"I finally got you."

Micha’el’s grin returned- wide, wolfish, full of smug confidence.

"That’s simple. All you have to do is survive three moves from me."

He held up three slender fingers with mock grace. "Just three. If you’re still on your feet after that, we’ll accept you as one of our own."

The crowd chuckled, some barely holding back their laughter.

"Three moves? Please, one’s more than enough," muttered a Goldhair nearby.

"I remember the last challenger barely survived two."

"Yeah... this one’s already a corpse."

Auren blinked slowly, head tilted slightly as he eyed Micha’el like he was watching a bad movie.

’Three moves? What is this, some cheesy martial arts drama?’

He didn’t smirk. Didn’t flinch.

Instead, he stepped forward- quiet and steady.

’Let them laugh. Sure, I’ve got barely any mana available to use... but I’ve spent three years brawling with Robert. That lunatic hits harder than most monsters and young elves. Plus, all those MMA fights I binged back on Earth? Might as well put them to the test now.’

And just like that, a wicked little plan began forming in his head.