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Chapter 224: Flair

The master watched the fight unfold from the shadows of the arena, his gaze sharp and unyielding as he followed every move the boy made. His eyes narrowed in disdain as he saw the struggle, the faltering defenses, the sheer desperation radiating from his so-called disciple.

Each time the boy stumbled, the master's jaw tightened, his fists clenching as the bitter taste of disappointment filled his mouth. He had trained the boy and invested time, resources, and countless punishments to ensure this moment would end in victory. Yet here he was, watching his pawn falter, his potential slipping away with every step back.

"Pathetic," he hissed under his breath, his voice laced with anger as he saw the final clash, the decisive blow that left the boy staggering, kneeling in defeat before the pink-haired knight.

The master's fists shook, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, barely contained. The boy had dared to fail him—after all the training, all the discipline, all the commands drilled into him. How could he have lost to her? A woman who hadn't even fought with the hatred he expected, a knight who had shown mercy when she should have been ruthless.

A fury surged through him, hot and corrosive, as he realized the depth of his loss. The top prizes of this tournament were within reach—powerful artifacts, and rare elixirs that could elevate his standing and fuel his ambitions.

And he had placed all his hopes on this beastkin boy, believing he would tear through the competition, claw his way to victory.

All the boy had to do was make it into the top four.

Just four! He had trusted the boy to obey, to fulfill his purpose. And now that opportunity was gone.

"Useless," he muttered, venom dripping from the word. He took a steadying breath, his mind whirring, calculating his next move even as rage clouded his thoughts. The boy's failure would reflect on him, marking him as a fool for trusting this creature—a lowly beast kin—to succeed where humans should have triumphed.

For a brief moment, his eyes drifted back to the boy's defeated form, still kneeling in the arena dirt. He could see the boy's shoulders rise and fall with exhausted breaths, a sliver of defiance in his downcast gaze. That defiance only fueled his anger further.

The master sneered, his voice a dark whisper to himself. "You dared to lose. You dared to fail me."

He considered his options, eyes narrowing as thoughts of punishment flickered through his mind. He couldn't afford to lose the boy completely; there were still ways to use him, even in his disgrace. But the boy would learn, and would feel the weight of this failure tenfold. Every scar, every lash would remind him of the cost of defiance and weakness.

Clenching his fists, the master seethed, his thoughts circling around what he needed to do next.

Little did he know, a pair of feline eyes were watching his every move.

*********

As Valeria made her way back through the crowded corridors and the echoing cheers still reverberated in her ears, she saw Lucavion standing in a shadowed corner, observing her with an inscrutable expression. He was half-hidden, almost as if testing her ability to notice him, but she could tell from his slight smirk that he had been watching the entire match closely.

As she approached, Lucavion's eyes met hers, glinting with a familiar, teasing warmth but tempered by something almost… respectful. "So, Olarion," he drawled, his voice low and smooth, "not bad out there. Although," he continued, his tone shifting to that of a subtle challenge, "I expected just a bit more flair. It seems the legendary precision of the knights is still intact, though."

Valeria huffed, her weariness battling with her annoyance. "Flair?" she retorted. "I didn't realize I was out here for your entertainment."

Lucavion laughed softly, his gaze unwavering. "Oh, make no mistake, you certainly entertained me," he replied, his eyes still holding that spark of curiosity. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret, "But that wasn't what I was most interested in."

She felt his words settle heavily, laced with a mystery she couldn't quite decipher. As much as she wanted to brush it off, his tone stirred something within her, igniting that stubborn drive to prove herself. Yet this time, it wasn't out of competition—it was a strange urge to understand what he saw when he looked at her with that quiet intensity.

"Then what were you interested in, Lucavion?" she challenged, her voice just as low.

His smirk deepened. "That fire," he said softly, almost thoughtfully. "The determination that refuses to waver, even against an opponent that fights with desperation instead of skill. It's… rare."

"That desperation?"

"Indeed."

He said as they started walking out of the arena as a whole.

"Wait. Where are you going? Will you not watch the matches?"

"Let's go get something to eat. There are still quite a lot of matches left."

Valeria's brow furrowed as she matched Lucavion's casual stride. "You don't want to watch your opponents? To see what they're capable of?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine curiosity. "I thought you'd be the type to study every advantage."

Lucavion's smirk softened into something almost playful. "Oh, it would be beneficial, of course," he replied, glancing sideways at her with a glint in his eye. "But spending too much time watching your possible opponents? That's a crutch for the weak, Valeria." He shrugged casually, as if dismissing the very idea. "If you think you're weak, by all means, stay back and observe."

Valeria narrowed her gaze, her expression growing sharper. "I'd call it being cautious," she replied, unruffled. "And no, I'm not arrogant like

some people

," she added pointedly, her tone biting. "I can acknowledge my weaknesses easily enough, thank you."

Lucavion chuckled, unfazed. "Acknowledging them, sure. Fixating on them, though—that's the danger. You get so tangled up in the weaknesses you think you have that you forget the strengths you don't know yet." His voice had an edge of sincerity that surprised her, almost as if he were speaking from some private place of experience.

The words struck her in an unexpected way, and she felt herself pause, considering. It was true—she had a habit of zeroing in on every flaw, every area for improvement, often at the expense of her own confidence. She pressed her lips together thoughtfully before responding. "Fine," she said, her tone softer but still defiant. "But I believe a little caution never hurts. Knowing what to expect, being prepared… It's not a weakness. It's just smart."

Lucavion gave her an approving look, nodding as if to say her reasoning was fair. "I'll give you that," he replied. "But, the more time you spend just watching, the more information you will gather. And can you make use of all of them if you were to spend your whole time watching?"

Lucavion's question lingered, and Valeria found herself considering it more deeply than she cared to admit. As frustrating as it was to acknowledge, his words made a certain kind of sense. Out of the 32 remaining contestants, only 15 of them could actually end up as her opponents. Even then, the odds of facing every single one were unlikely.

She felt her shoulders relax slightly, conceding the point in her mind. Trying to remember every possible technique, every potential threat, could cloud her focus rather than sharpen it. There was wisdom in not overwhelming herself with endless possibilities—particularly if she couldn't capitalize on each of them effectively.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a low rumble from her stomach, and she realized just how much her previous match had taken out of her. She hated admitting any kind of weakness, even to herself, but the truth was undeniable: she was exhausted, and the prospect of food had started to sound increasingly tempting.

With a reluctant sigh, she fell into step beside him, though she kept her chin raised, masking her concession with as much dignity as possible. "Fine," she said, her voice carrying a trace of resignation. "I'll go with you. But I'm curious—where exactly are you planning to take us?"

Lucavion's smirk grew, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, now that's the right question," he replied, clearly enjoying the fact that she was following him. "Where do you think we will go? The same place as we usually go."

"The Iron Matron?"

"Yep."

At the end of the day, it was the same place.

Chapter 225: Flair (2)

Valeria shot Lucavion a questioning look as they made their way toward the Iron Matron. "Why do you always go there?" she asked, her tone laced with genuine curiosity. "Out of all the places in this city, you keep coming back to that inn."

Lucavion tilted his head, feigning surprise. "What do you mean, 'always'? We've been to a good number of places, haven't we?"

She arched an eyebrow, conceding his point. "True, we've tried different places. But it doesn't change the fact that the Iron Matron is where we end up most often."

Lucavion chuckled, clearly amused by her observation. "I suppose you're right about that," he said, nodding. "Though I'll say the food is worth it. It's rare to find an inn that actually puts care into its dishes."

Valeria gave him a skeptical look. "And?"

He glanced at her, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "And… well, that place can offer me a certain kind of protection."

Valeria's curiosity sharpened. "Protection?" she echoed, her tone incredulous.

Lucavion's expression turned unreadable, his eyes glinting with something unspoken. "You could say it's a sanctuary of sorts," he replied, his voice lowering. "One that has… a few layers of security I find convenient."

A sense of intrigue sparked within Valeria, though she fought to keep her expression neutral. "And here I thought you simply liked the atmosphere," she remarked dryly.

He flashed her a knowing look. "The atmosphere has its appeal, but I'd be lying if I said that was the only reason." His voice dropped slightly as he continued, almost as if he were sharing a secret. "That place isn't just an inn. It is operated by a certain adventurer, whose strength can match quite a lot of strong people. Sometimes, being surrounded by a certain… type of company is the best protection of all."

Valeria narrowed her eyes, studying him closely. "So, it's not just about the food, then."

"Not quite." His smirk returned, his gaze lingering on her for a beat. "Though it

is good food. And if you're hungry, why overthink it?"

As they continued down the bustling streets, Valeria considered his reasoning more closely. Now that he'd clashed with members of the Cloud Heavens Sect, she realized, it was more than likely that trouble would follow him sooner rather than later. The sects were known for holding grudges, and Lucavion, bold as he was, had just painted a target on himself.

She glanced at him, his expression casual as ever, and it all began to make sense. Alone, without the support of a powerful family or a close circle, he had to rely on his own wits—and, evidently, the protection offered by a place like that Iron Matron's. With its reputation and its formidable innkeeper, the inn was more than just a safehouse; it was a shield, one that even the Cloud Heavens Sect would hesitate to challenge openly.

"I see why you keep going back there," she said finally, her voice low. "After all, if trouble does come knocking, the Iron Matron wouldn't stand by quietly."

Lucavion's gaze flicked to her, his smirk softening. "You catch on quickly," he replied, his tone laced with a hint of approval. "Let's just say, the Iron Matron's Inn isn't the kind of place where people settle scores. Its owner's reputation isn't just idle talk."

Valeria nodded, recalling a few stories she'd heard over the years. The Iron Matron was rumored to have once been a formidable adventurer herself, someone who commanded enough respect—or fear—that her inn remained a neutral ground. If the stories were true, even the most hardened mercenaries and rival sects thought twice before causing any disruption there.

As they stepped into the familiar warmth of The Rested Hawk, the comforting hum of voices and the smell of roasted meats greeted them. Lucavion led the way through the crowded room to their usual table near the far wall, a spot just secluded enough to keep away unwanted ears.

They had barely settled when Jorkin, the stout and ever-attentive staff member they'd come to know well, approached with his familiar easygoing smile. "Ah, Lady Valeria, Lord Lucavion," he greeted his voice a low, rumbling tone that cut through the surrounding chatter. "The usual?"

Lucavion nodded, leaning back in his chair with a faint smirk. "The usual, Jorkin. You know us well."

Valeria gave a small nod of confirmation. "Yes, thank you, Jorkin." Despite her initial wariness of the inn's hospitality, she had to admit she'd grown used to the place—and, if she were honest, Jorkin's unfailingly polite demeanor.

Once Jorkin had taken their orders, he left with a respectful nod, promising to return shortly. Silence settled between them as the warmth from the nearby fire filled the space, and Valeria found herself relaxing into the moment. But it was short-lived, as Lucavion suddenly turned his gaze toward her, his expression thoughtful.

"So," he began, his tone casual yet probing, "what did you think of your opponent today?"

The question caught her slightly off guard, and she took a moment to consider it. She thought back to the fierce gaze of the beastkin boy, his desperation and raw power that had been unlike any opponent she'd encountered. She had bested him, but something about the way he'd fought lingered with her.

"He was… surprising," she admitted, her voice steady. "I could see that he was strong, but there was more to it than just physical skill. There was a desperation, a drive like he was fighting for more than just a victory." She paused, then added thoughtfully, "I suppose it made me wary in a way."

Lucavion watched her, his gaze keen. "Hmm...What else?"

Valeria took a deep breath, letting her mind drift back to the intense clash in the arena.

She recalled the fierce determination in the beastkin boy's eyes, the way he'd thrown himself into every strike as though pain, injury, and even exhaustion meant nothing to him.

His movements had been reckless but resolute, as if he were fighting not just for victory, but for survival.

And there was something else—a subtle tension in the air around them, a hostility that hadn't come from him, but from the spectators themselves.

"He didn't care about getting hurt," she murmured, more to herself than to Lucavion. "He was young, maybe younger than me, and yet… it felt like he'd already been through more battles than anyone his age should." Her eyes grew distant. "And the crowd—they reacted with such… disgust. As if just seeing him there was an offense."

Lucavion's gaze never wavered, his expression thoughtful as he listened. "You're sharp," he remarked quietly. "That kind of disdain isn't something you see for just anyone."

She nodded, her voice taking on a grim edge. "The beastkin are hated here, aren't they? And it didn't seem to matter to him. If anything, he seemed to accept it, like it was… inevitable."

Lucavion watched her closely, leaning forward slightly as he asked, "So then, what do you think could drive him to fight like that? To ignore the pain, the danger, and even the hatred surrounding him?"

Valeria hesitated, piecing together what she had sensed but hadn't fully understood. "If I had to guess… maybe he was fighting for something more than just this tournament," she replied, her voice quiet yet resolute. "To him, maybe winning—or just surviving—meant something much larger. Like he didn't have a choice."

"Then…..if that were to be proved, what would you do?"

Valeria narrowed her eyes, studying Lucavion carefully. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice measured. "What exactly are you implying?"

Lucavion held her gaze, his expression thoughtful yet unreadable. "Think about it, Valeria," he replied, his tone soft yet intense. "If that boy truly has no choice—if he's fighting for something much larger than himself, something that forces him to push past pain and hatred… what would that make you? Or any of us here, really?"

She felt a strange chill at his words. "Are you saying… we're in his way?"

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp. "Possibly. Or maybe we're just obstacles he's resigned himself to face. But either way, if he's fighting out of necessity, that means his view of us isn't the same as ours of him. For him, this isn't a tournament—it's a battlefield. His actions aren't for glory, they're for survival."

Valeria's thoughts churned as she tried to process the implication. She had fought in countless training matches, tournaments, and even a few real skirmishes, but they had always been battles of choice, contests of honor or skill. She had never fought because she

had

to, because there was no other path forward. For the boy, however, this seemed like life or death.

She met Lucavion's gaze, searching his face for answers. "But if that's true… what am I supposed to do about it?"

Lucavion's smirk faded, and for a rare moment, his expression softened into something almost sincere. "That is something that is hard to answer, isn't it?"

Chapter 226: Liora

"That is something that is hard to answer, isn't it?"

"….."

Valeria held his gaze, feeling a weight settle over her that went beyond the words they were exchanging. "Then… what would

you

do, if you were in my place?"

Lucavion let out a quiet sigh, his expression turning distant. "That's a question with no easy answer. You could concede the fight, and step out of his way if you truly believed he was fighting out of necessity. Or you could choose to ignore it, telling yourself it's not your business. But…" he paused, his gaze sharpening, "you could also act."

"Act?" she repeated, her brow furrowing.

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering. "Yes. Act. If someone's fighting for their survival in a tournament like this, don't you wonder why? What kind of position would someone need to be in for a match here to feel like a life-or-death struggle?"

Valeria's mind raced, sifting through possibilities. Her gaze grew distant as she considered the tournament setting, the desperation in the boy's eyes, and the fierce, relentless way he fought. And then, like a dark veil lifting, the answer hit her.

"Slavery," she whispered, her voice barely audible. It made perfect, horrifying sense. For someone to fight with that level of abandon, that utter disregard for their own safety… it was the fight of someone who had no control over his fate. Someone bound to win or face unimaginable consequences. "Or he could have been blackmailed…"

That was even worse. If one were to be threatened with their lives, they could maybe ignore it.

She could see herself just killing herself if she were to be forced into a dishonorable act.

But what if her family was captured?

A surge of anger began to simmer within Valeria as the weight of her realization settled heavily on her shoulders. The thought of someone being blackmailed or enslaved into this tournament twisted her sense of justice, filling her with a hollow rage that she didn't know how to direct.

She imagined herself in his place. If her family were at risk—if their lives were held over her head as leverage—what would she do? Could she stand by and let them suffer, even if it meant abandoning her own honor? The answer was one she could barely admit to herself.

For the first time, she felt the bitterness of her victory against the boy. She had fought him without fully understanding what had been at stake for him. Winning had felt like a validation of her strength, but now… now, all she could think of was the question that hung unanswered:

What would happen to him because she'd won?

Was his family at risk now, facing a punishment for his defeat?

Her hand clenched into a fist, and she looked down, her voice coming out in a low, controlled fury. "If he was fighting because he had no choice… because his family was at stake…" She trailed off, her jaw tightening as she struggled with the thought. "What happens to him now?"

Lucavion watched her, his expression steady but his gaze softened by an understanding that was rare from him. "That's the hard part," he said quietly. "In this world, consequences don't disappear just because someone fought hard. When you lose in a battle like that, there's often a price to pay."

She felt her heart twist painfully, and she shook her head, unable to reconcile the injustice of it. "All he did was fight as hard as he could, and he still lost. And now, for what? To be punished for failing?" Her fists trembled as she wrestled with the thought. "It feels… wrong. Unfair."

Lucavion nodded, his eyes dark. "It is. But that's the reality of a life bound to someone else's demands. Sometimes, there's no 'fair' way out."

For a moment, she was silent, the weight of his words pressing down on her. Winning had always meant honor and strength to her, a testament to her discipline. But this tournament held an ugliness she hadn't anticipated, and it made her victory feel hollow, even bitter.

She met Lucavion's gaze, her voice edged with both determination and sorrow. "I don't know what to do… but I can't ignore this. Not anymore."

Lucavion's smirk returned, his eyes glinting with a mix of admiration and mischief. "I figured you'd say something like that," he murmured, leaning back in his chair. "If that boy, and maybe others like him, are under some kind of restriction—forced to fight, bound to someone else's will—wouldn't you want to do something about it?"

Valeria's eyes narrowed as she absorbed his words.

Of course, I would,

she thought fiercely, the idea of inaction twisting her stomach. But she pushed back the rush of emotions, keeping her voice level. "How, exactly?" she asked, a wary edge to her tone.

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Easy. Just follow me. But," he added with a gesture at their empty table, "after we eat."

Valeria's gaze grew sharper, a mix of skepticism and irritation crossing her face. 'What is he up to now?' she wondered. He looked almost too calm about it as if this entire situation were some kind of game. But there was a gleam in his eyes that told her he was serious.

"What?" she asked, incredulous.

"Look," he said with an easy shrug, "it's like you said—this feels wrong, unfair. And if you feel that strongly about it… well, let's just say I know where we might start looking for answers."

Valeria held his gaze, her mind racing. 'I don't trust him,' she thought, 'but he's offering something I can't just walk away from.' She let out a quiet breath, trying to steady herself. She could feel the bitter taste of her own anger still burning within her, an anger she couldn't ignore, even if Lucavion was the one leading her toward… whatever it was he had in mind.

"All right," she said finally, though her voice remained guarded. "After we eat. But if this is some elaborate prank…"

"Have I ever pranked you?" Lucavion asked, feigning innocence with an exaggerated sigh.

'Yes,'

she thought flatly. But her need for answers outweighed her distrust, just this once. She let the conversation drift as they waited, though her mind remained on the young fighter—and the fate he might be facing.

As Valeria's thoughts continued to churn, her focus returned to the table as their meals arrived. But this time, instead of Jorkin's familiar, stoic presence, a young girl appeared with their plates in hand, balancing them with an easy, practiced grace.

She was slight, with bright, inquisitive eyes and an energy that seemed to spark with every step she took.

"Here we are!" she announced cheerfully, setting the plates down in front of them with a quick, genuine smile. "Valeria, Lucavion—you're in luck; we had a fresh batch of bread come out just a few minutes ago." She glanced at Valeria, her smile widening, and added with a teasing tone, "Hope you're hungry enough!"

Valeria couldn't help the slight smile that tugged at her lips. "Thank you, Liora," she replied warmly, feeling the young girl's infectious energy ease the tension in her chest.

Liora had returned to the inn just a few days ago, having been away visiting family, and her lively nature had quickly made her a welcome presence.

Valeria somehow felt like she had taken a liking to her immediately, partly because Liora treated everyone with a refreshing openness, partly because she didn't seem to mind Valeria's sometimes reserved nature. In some strange way, Liora was one of the reasons she'd started feeling more at home in this inn.

Top of FormLiora winked at her before stepping back, hands on her hips as she glanced between Valeria and Lucavion. "So, what trouble are you two planning today?" she teased, giving them both a knowing look. "Not that I expect you to tell me

everything

, of course."

Lucavion chuckled, leaning back with his usual smirk. "Us? Trouble? Never."

Liora immediately jumped forward, leaning in with an exaggerated look of disbelief as she placed her hands on the table, facing Lucavion head-on. "You are

not

allowed to say things like that!" she declared, her voice a mix of playful scolding and genuine amusement.

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk unfazed. "Oh? And what exactly have I done to earn such a dramatic response?"

Liora scoffed, crossing her arms with a mock glare. "As if you don't know! After that scene you caused, your name has been on nearly every tongue in the city! You waltz into the tournament, stir things up with the Cloud Heavens Sect of all people, and now—now!—you're sitting here pretending that you don't know trouble when it's practically tattooed on your forehead?" She shook her head, clearly enjoying every second of her tirade. "And then you have the audacity to say, 'Trouble? Never.'"

"Pfffftttttt…."

Bottom of Form

Valeria smothered a laugh, as she couldn't help after seeing the expression that Liora made.

"Heh….."

Lucavion also laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right, I'll admit it—I

may

have made a few enemies."

"Not, few. Quite a lot of them."

"So what?"

Liora tilted her head, her arms still crossed as she regarded him with that playful, assessing glare. "Sometimes, Lucavion, I wonder… Are you brave, or are you just plain stupid?"

Lucavion's smirk deepened, and he leaned back in his chair with a calm, almost arrogant ease. "It's bravery," he replied smoothly, "when you have the strength to overcome whatever you face." He paused, his eyes glinting with a trace of challenge. "It's stupidity if you fail in the attempt."

Valeria's laughter died down, and she looked at him, a hint of interest in her gaze.

Typical Lucavion,

she thought, but there was something almost admirable in his confidence—something that wasn't just arrogance. He believed every word, and somehow, in his presence, she almost believed it too.

Liora scoffed again, rolling her eyes as if to hide her amusement. "Well, you'd better make sure you don't cross that line," she muttered. "The Cloud Heavens Sect isn't exactly known for their forgiving nature."

Lucavion only chuckled, unfazed. "Forgiveness was never something I expected from them," he replied lightly, then turned his gaze to Valeria, an unspoken question in his eyes, as if asking whether she understood his way of seeing things.

Valeria didn't look away, but she kept her expression steady. "Let's hope your bravery doesn't end up looking a lot like stupidity," she said coolly, though her lips twitched with a faint smile.

As Liora rolled her eyes one last time and moved to help another table, Valeria felt that, somehow this was how she needed to aspire to be.

A strange mix of admiration and frustration at Lucavion settled over her once more.

He was maddening, even reckless, but his conviction had a way of stirring something within her—a challenge, a question, that she couldn't quite ignore.