CHAPTER 221: CHAPTER 221: TOO HIGH TO SEE CLEARLY

The streets around the arena were a lot quieter now. Most students had gone back to their dorms, either to talk about the brackets or rest before tomorrow’s fights.

Noel, however, wasn’t heading back just yet.

He moved quietly through a side path near the administrative sector of the arena, hood up, with Noir walking close at his side. She didn’t make a sound, her black-and-purple fur blending almost too well with the stone surroundings.

They weren’t here to fight or break in.

They were here to look.

’In the novel, the Fifth Pillar was connected to the event itself. Not in the shadows, not hiding. He was someone important—part of the system.’

Noel glanced around before ducking into a narrow corridor between two buildings, checking for guards. No one.

’If that’s true here too, then he’s not some random assistant or technician. He’s got pull. He’s close to the arena, to the logistics... maybe even to the administration.’

Noir stopped for a second and sniffed the air. Her ears flicked slightly, then she moved on without a sound.

"Anything?" Noel whispered.

No response. Just the steady rhythm of her padded steps.

They reached a lower section of the arena’s perimeter—less guarded, likely meant for storage or worker access. The entrance was locked.

Noel stopped in front of it, placing a hand against the stone wall.

"Noir."

The wolf looked up at him, then without a sound, melted into shadow. Her body dissolved into black mist, slipping through the narrow cracks between the frame and the door.

Noel waited, checking over his shoulder once to make sure no one was nearby.

A few seconds later, there was a soft click from the inside.

The door creaked open.

"Good girl," he muttered, stepping inside.

’Let’s see what kind of people move behind the scenes here.’

The interior was wide—far bigger than he expected.

Stone hallways opened into a large operations floor beneath the arena. Dozens of dwarves moved back and forth, setting up equipment, calibrating floating screens, adjusting runic projectors. Some were enchanting platforms, others checking safety protocols. It looked like the control room for a massive concert... if concerts involved combat spells and structural enchantments.

Noel stayed in the shadows of an overhead walkway, crouched low and silent. Noir was a thin veil of shadow beside him, her form flat against the stone.

’Damn... this is more intense than I thought.’

He wasn’t the only one watching.

At the far end of the floor, surrounded by high-ranking staff, stood the director of Tharvaldur—broad-shouldered, with a deep red beard and a voice that echoed even from here. He wasn’t wearing his ceremonial robe now, just a reinforced coat and thick gloves. He looked more like a military commander than an academic.

Next to him stood another dwarf, older, with silver-streaked hair and a golden circlet resting just above his brow. He spoke less, but everyone turned when he did.

Noel narrowed his eyes.

’The king?’

The atmosphere around them made it obvious. This wasn’t just any noble—it was someone everyone else deferred to instantly.

Behind them stood two more dwarves in sharp formal attire, likely nobles or heads of guilds.

Noel’s gaze moved back to the director.

He was laughing.

Like a man who had nothing to hide.

’He’s got control of the whole place. If I were the Fifth Pillar... this is exactly the kind of position I’d want.’

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions. But it fit.

Noel stayed crouched behind the upper railing, watching in silence.

Below, everything moved like clockwork—organized, efficient. Workers followed clear routines. The arena crew enchanted barriers, reinforced platforms, checked timing crystals. No signs of tension. No hidden conversations. No weird behavior.

He shifted slightly, resting one elbow on his knee.

’Honestly... looks normal.’

The director of Tharvaldur kept moving from station to station, giving orders, talking with staff. He wasn’t hiding anything—if anything, he looked proud. Focused on making sure the event went smoothly.

Noel’s eyes followed a group of dwarfs adjusting the floating crystals that will project the image of the fighting.

He gave the room one last sweep.

Nothing.

Noir stayed beside him, still alert but calm.

"Alright," he murmured under his breath. "Let’s get out of here."

No need to push their luck. If something was happening behind the scenes, it wasn’t happening here—or at least not yet.

He slipped back the way they came, careful not to make a sound.

Back in his room, Noel closed the door behind him with a quiet click

.

He pulled off his coat, tossed it onto the back of the chair, and sat down at the desk. Noir padded in slowly and curled up near the wall, resting her head on her front paws, still watching him from the corner of her eye.

Noel pulled out a folded page from his inner pocket and laid it flat on the desk. A small list. Just a few lines scribbled in his handwriting—mostly reminders from what he remembered in the novel. Not names, just descriptions.

He uncapped a pen and tapped the side of the paper a few times, eyes skimming the top line again.

"Fifth Pillar – influence / access / not a fighter / good with people."

He leaned back in the chair.

’Someone like that wouldn’t be a foot soldier. And they wouldn’t be hiding in the sewers either.’

He started thinking it through, line by line.

’Could be a noble. Someone from a big dwarven house. Plenty of money, resources, maybe even access to the arena infrastructure through donations or status.’

He scratched that idea in the margin. Possible, but a bit too disconnected from the operations side.

’Or maybe someone connected to the royal family. The king himself was there. Maybe it’s someone close to him. A political advisor, a cousin, whatever.’

He frowned.

’But that type would be smart enough to stay far from the center of attention. Right now, the tournament is the biggest thing happening in Tharvaldur. If the Pillar wants control... this is the perfect place to use it.’

He glanced at the bottom of the list.

"Director of Tharlvaldur Institute of Arcane Might."

He thought back to earlier—the way the man moved around like he owned the entire building, the way everyone stopped talking when he entered a room.

’And if I were in his position... I could do a lot without raising suspicion.’

Noel rubbed the back of his neck.

’It fits. Doesn’t mean it’s him, but... it fits.’

He let the pen drop and leaned forward on his elbows, staring at the page for a few seconds.

’No proof or name. But if he’s the one, he’ll slip eventually.’

Noir let out a soft breath behind him.

Noel stood, stretched his arms, and looked out the window.

Tomorrow, the tournament would begin.