CHAPTER 263: CHAPTER 263: BEFORE THE MATCH

Noel stood frozen in the corridor, his gaze fixed on the glowing blue panel suspended in the air.

[You will discover it soon. Didn’t you have to go to your house’s library a long time ago?]

’This motherfucker... really gonna make me wait?!’ His jaw tightened as the words burned into his mind. ’Fine, I guess the mission comes first. Nothing I can do right now. I’ll just have to complete it. Hopefully, I get something worth the trouble as a reward.’

He started moving again, the echo of his footsteps filling the quiet hall as Noir padded beside him, her small form keeping perfect pace.

’Maybe I’ve got more advantage this time,’ he thought, glancing down at her. ’I’m using every resource I have, relying on more people than before. Even if it means not having complete control, I guess I’ll have to trust them.’

Noir’s tail swished once, as if agreeing, though she said nothing.

Noel exhaled through his nose. ’I already knew the System seemed to have some kind of awareness... always watching me. It knows what I’m doing in every moment. Like when I tried to tell Elyra and Elena everything — it didn’t let me. Cut me off completely.’

The memory was still sharp. He had wanted to be honest with them, but the invisible barrier between truth and censorship had slammed down without warning.

’At least I could tell Noir,’ he thought, glancing at her again. ’That alone lifted some of the weight off my chest. Something is better than nothing.’

They reached the preparation area, the faint rumble of the crowd seeping through the thick stone walls. Noel found his seat and let himself sink into it, the cold bench grounding him. His match wasn’t for a while yet.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The System’s message still lingered in his head, the mention of his house’s library gnawing at him.

But there was no point dwelling on it now. Not until the mission was done.

Noir settled at his side, slipping her head against his leg. Noel reached down, giving her a light scratch between the ears before turning his attention toward the arena.

Noel leaned back slightly, arms crossed, his eyes on the arena floor. He had no reason to rush; his own match was still a while away, and the remaining fights were worth watching. At this stage, every competitor left was strong — no more easy wins, no more flukes.

Down on the sand, Roberto was locked in a tight exchange with his opponent, a young woman from Luceria Grand Academy. Her movements were sharp, precise, each step calculated to match Roberto’s aggressive style. He was pushing her hard, but she was holding her ground, the clash of magic and steel echoing up into the stands.

Noir sat at Noel’s feet, her gaze following the fighters with mild interest.

’Roberto’s strong,’ Noel thought, watching as the two exchanged another rapid flurry. ’Never expected to make friends here, honestly. Maybe my personality when I first came to this world wasn’t the best...’

Roberto broke through her guard for a moment, landing a clean strike, but the girl recovered instantly, countering with a burst of water magic that forced him back. The crowd roared at the reversal.

Noel smirked faintly. ’He’s doing well. Better than I thought he would, actually.’

The announcer’s voice cut through the noise:

"Victory goes to Amelia from Luceria Grand Academy!!!"

The crowd erupted in applause as Roberto lowered his weapon, offering his opponent a polite nod before turning away. It had been close — one of those matches where either could have taken the win.

Noel’s eyes followed him for a moment. ’For a character that didn’t even exist in the original novel, he’s come pretty far... though I guess I’m not one to talk. The original Noel Thorne was just a nobody.’

Noir slipped seamlessly into his shadow as Roberto exited the arena, vanishing from sight. The stands were already buzzing about the next competitor.

And when the announcer’s voice rang out again, the energy spiked: the next match featured Dior, Seraphina’s brother and the crown prince of Valor.

Noel’s gaze sharpened. ’In the original story, Dior would’ve already been chosen for the crown by now... and then manipulated later.’

He leaned forward slightly, curious. Dior’s opponent — a demon from the Velmora Institute — didn’t look like much.

Noel kept his attention on the arena as Dior and his opponent exchanged the first blows, but the sound of approaching footsteps drew his eyes to the side.

Roberto dropped heavily into the seat next to him, his uniform scuffed and his breathing still uneven. Even so, the grin on his face was impossible to miss.

"Oh! You’re here," Roberto said, leaning back as if he owned the bench. "You saw that, right? I was amazing out there. Bet plenty of pretty ladies were watching me."

Noel didn’t look away from the fight. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. If thinking that helps you feel better about losing, go ahead."

Roberto made a noise of protest. "What do you expect me to do? I can’t go all out against a girl like that."

"You do know we have the protective devices, right? Have you forgotten?" Noel’s tone was dry. "You wouldn’t have actually hurt her, not enough to knock her out of the tournament for real."

Roberto shook his head, adopting a solemn expression. "Principles, my friend. A man has to have them."

Noel let out a faint chuckle. "Well, you did better than I expected. I didn’t think you’d make it this far."

Roberto smirked, straightening up a little. "Maybe I’m more surprising than I look."

"Or maybe you just got lucky with the bracket," Noel shot back, though there was no malice in his voice.

Roberto ignored the jab. "By the way, when are you going to visit your family?"

Noel’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

"I went to see mine yesterday," Roberto said casually. "Had some free time. So you don’t need to come with me or anything."

Noel gave a small nod. "Good to hear you’re on good terms with them." His gaze shifted back to the arena. "You already know how my family is..."

Roberto’s tone softened. "Yeah. Can’t imagine being a noble with a family like that. If they were like Clara’s parents, it’d be different."

Noel hummed in agreement. "You’re not wrong."

On the sand below, Dior was pressing the advantage. Noel leaned forward slightly, ready to see how this match would end.

The clash of steel and magic below pulled both their attention back to the arena. Dior moved with sharp precision, each strike flowing into the next. His opponent, a demon from the Velmora Institute, was quick and nimble, but every attempt to counter was met with a firm, almost disdainful block.

Noel watched closely. ’Not bad... he’s sharper than in the original story. Back then, by this point, he’d already have been crowned the heir and set on a path to be manipulated. Now... this is different.’

The demon launched a flurry of blows, trying to push Dior to the edge, but the prince’s posture never broke. With a sudden burst of speed, Dior sidestepped, letting the attack glance past him before sweeping his weapon in a clean, decisive arc. The demon staggered, weapon knocked from his hands, the protective ward shimmering faintly to absorb the final impact.

The announcer’s voice rang out over the crowd:

"Victory goes to Dior of Valor from the Imperial Academy of Valor!!!"

The stands erupted. Cheers rolled through the arena like a physical wave, the roar of thousands echoing off the stone. It wasn’t every day the public got to see a royal fight, and Dior’s confident, calculated performance only added fuel to the excitement.

Roberto let out a low whistle beside Noel. "Guess royalty’s not all for show."

Noel’s gaze didn’t leave the sand. "He’s always been talented. The difference now is... his path isn’t the same as before."

The crowd’s chanting swelled again as Dior gave a measured salute to his opponent and then to the audience before leaving the arena floor.

It was Noel’s turn next.