CHAPTER 217: CHAPTER 217: ARRIVAL TO THARVALDUR

It was the tenth day of travel.

After entering the dwarven tunnel on the third day, the journey had turned into a monotonous glide through endless stone and mana-lit paths. The magical lamps embedded in the walls gave off a steady blue glow, casting long shadows that shifted as the vessel moved forward. The view hadn’t changed in days.

Noel stood at the front of the ship, hands resting on the railing. Elyra was beside him, her long braid gently swaying with the wind generated by the vessel’s motion.

"This is it," she said, eyes fixed on the faint light ahead. "We’ll be arriving soon. Are you excited for the tournament?"

Noel let out a short breath, not quite a sigh.

"Hmm. I’m not sure. Should I be?"

"It’s a chance to face the best students from all of Vaelterra. Isn’t that something? All the top academies, gathered in one place."

"I suppose. Roberto mentioned there’ll be academies from all three continents. Ours, of course... two from Elratih—one being Tharvaldur’s own, the host—and another from the northwest of Elratih. And then one from Velmora."

Elyra nodded. "And you know our academy is the most prestigious among them, right? Even students from Elarith choose ours over their own."

"Elena, for example," Noel replied.

"Exactly."

The tunnel was starting to widen up ahead, and the faint outline of something massive began to appear—columns, lights, and stone structures emerging from the darkness.

Noel squinted, watching the distant lights shimmer like stars trapped underground.

’This reminds me of the old train tunnels under Europe... miles of darkness until the next city, glowing faintly at the edge of the rails.’

He shook his head slightly.

’Not like I can ever mention that comparison to anyone.’

But aloud, he simply said, "Looks like we’re almost there."

As the ship emerged from the tunnel, the view opened into a breathtaking, colossal cavern.

Before them lay the capital of Tharvaldur, carved deep into the heart of the mountain. Hundreds of glowing mana-lamps hung from the rock ceiling like stars, casting warm light over a city of stone and steel. Suspended bridges crisscrossed the air above lava-lit forges. Glistening pipes carried steam through the city like veins, and beneath them ran winding streets filled with dwarves, merchants, and students alike.

A massive arena stood at the center, built from dark granite and enchanted metal. It towered like a crown jewel, surrounded by dormitory towers and schools. High on the inner mountain wall was the royal castle of Tharvaldur, its windows casting golden light. The academy itself stretched nearby, shaped like a great half-circle carved into the rock, its entrance marked by statues of ancient dwarven kings.

Noel stared in silence, genuinely impressed.

"Wow."

Elyra smirked. "First time seeing a city built inside a mountain?"

"Yeah," Noel said. "It’s... more alive than I expected."

"It’s my first time too, despite all the trade deals my family does with Tharvaldur." Elyra replied smiling faintly.

"You Estermonts do business with everyone, huh?"

"Everyone except Velmora. My father refuses. He blames them for the last war. But..." she paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "if I’m the one making deals in the future, I’ll go anywhere—including Velmora. Money is money."

Noel raised an eyebrow. "Do you really need that much?"

"Oh, I’ll need a lot," Elyra said with a sly smile. "Unlike my parents, I don’t plan to stop at just one child."

Noel blinked. "What?"

She tilted her head toward him, clearly amused. "That means someone’s going to have to work very hard to keep up. I want a big loving family you see."

Noel looked away quickly, trying to hide the heat in his face. "Okay, okay, chill. That was not what I meant."

Elyra chuckled. "You remember I said I can fund my own studies, right?"

"I do. Still not what I meant!"

She laughed again, fully entertained by his discomfort.

The ship slowly drifted toward the illuminated dwarven harbor. Other ships could be seen, sleek dwarven vessels built for practicality rather than style. Golems stood at the docking station, ready to help with unloading.

As the ship began docking procedures, students gathered on the main deck with their belongings. Daemar stood tall at the front, flanked by Professor Rauk, both wearing travel cloaks and their academy emblems.

"Alright, listen up," Daemar called out, his voice echoing clearly across the deck. "We’ve arrived at Tharvaldur. Grab your things, and when your name is called, proceed to disembark. One at a time."

Noel adjusted the strap of his dimensional pouch as the list began.

Several names came:

Juno Von Hargrave. Myra Von Feldren. Tavion.

One by one, they stepped down the ramp onto the stone dock, greeted by dwarven officials in dark blue uniforms.

Then came the familiar names.

"Elyra von Estermont."

She descended with her usual poise, hair catching the lamplight.

"Noel Thorne."

He followed, casting a glance back at the ship’s towering structure.

"Clara de Nivaria. Marcus. Laziel Varn. Charlotte. Selene von Iskandar. Garron Bale. Roberto."

Once everyone had made it down, Daemar gave a final nod to the crew and followed them off the ship. Professor Rauk remained behind for a moment, overseeing the unloading of the training supplies and equipment.

The group was gathered near the edge of the dock, where a line of dwarven automatons loaded crates onto carts. From here, one could see the city stretching upward into the mountain, layered with platforms and bridges, with signs indicating directions to the arena, the royal district, and the various educational quarters.

Daemar turned to face them.

"This is where we’ll be staying for the next three weeks. The tournament begins in five days, but that doesn’t mean we rest. Be respectful, stay sharp, and remember—we represent the pride of Valor."

A few students nodded solemnly. Others whispered in excitement.

Noel glanced around, scanning the crowd. His eyes settled briefly on the arena visible in the distance—massive, ancient, and radiating the weight of history.

’Alright time to work again.’