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Chapter 239: Worrisome Guy

"Money becomes a form of power, and it's more insidious than a sword at the throat. Everyone has their price."

As Lucavion spoke about money's power to influence, Valeria couldn't help but recall the registration day. She had waited in that endless line, diligently following every rule, only for Lucavion to casually stroll up and cut in front of her without a hint of guilt. She'd been fuming when she realized he'd bribed the officials to jump ahead, and now, a faint smirk tugged at her lips.

'Karma,'

she thought, pleased by the thought.

'Serves him right.'

Lucavion glanced at her, picking up on her smug expression. He raised an eyebrow, his smirk sharpening. "Ah, so you think this is my karma, huh?" he asked slyly. "If that's the case, then explain something to me, Valeria: why are

you

out on the streets with me?"

Valeria's smirk vanished as she shot him a glare, her face flushing in irritation. "Because

you're

the reason I'm out here, you idiot!" she snapped, her voice dripping with exasperation.

She turned sharply, striding ahead, eyes scanning the streets for any sign of another inn. But before she'd gone more than a few steps, Lucavion's voice stopped her.

"I wouldn't waste too much time looking for another inn if I were you," he called, his tone casual but certain.

She paused, turning to give him a skeptical look. "And why's that?"

Lucavion took a step closer, folding his arms as he met her gaze. "Do you really think the Cloud Heavens Sect would limit their influence to one single inn?" he asked, his voice smooth, almost taunting. "If they're trying to make a statement, they'd make sure every innkeeper in Andelheim knows about it."

The realization hit her like a wave, the pieces falling into place in a way she couldn't ignore. Her shoulders stiffened as the full weight of their situation settled over her. "So… they've barred us from the entire city?" she muttered, disbelief and anger simmering in her voice.

"Now you're seeing the full picture," Lucavion replied, watching her reaction with wry amusement.

Valeria's thoughts churned as the realization settled heavily in her mind

. 'So this is how it works,'

she thought, her gaze hardening.

'The big sects, the powerful houses, they don't just rely on brute strength or open conflict. They can control people with influence alone—force you out of places, make it so you have nowhere to turn, no one to trust.'

A quiet anger simmered within her. The implications of this tactic became all too clear:

this

was how they kept anyone new, anyone rising, from ever challenging them. By cutting people off, making them feel small and isolated, they forced rising stars into submission—either they joined the ranks of the powerful, or they were swiftly crushed beneath them.

It was no wonder there weren't many figures like Lucavion in the world, she realized. Anyone with ambition and promise who refused to bend to their rules would face a wall of obstacles and threats

. 'Join us, or we'll break you,'

she imagined them saying, the shadow of their influence always looming over those who dared to defy them.

She stole a glance at Lucavion, his expression relaxed and unbothered, as though he were simply amused by the situation.

'And yet, he's never bent to their will,'

she thought, a strange sense of respect growing within her.

'No wonder he doesn't care about their rules, their traditions. He knows how quickly they'd turn on him if he ever showed weakness.'

The weight of this new understanding sank deep, yet at the same time, a fierce resolve ignited within her. "So that's why people like you stand out so much," she murmured, the words more to herself than to him.

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, catching her words. "Hmm? Stand out? I suppose that's one way of putting it," he said with a smirk.

"Then…..Now, what? What are we supposed to do?"

"Well…..What else? We are going to trouble our Miss Little Bear."

Valeria frowned in confusion at Lucavion's cryptic words. "Miss Little Bear?" she echoed, glancing at him with a puzzled look.

Lucavion merely winked at her and gestured toward the direction they'd come from, his expression unreadable. He strode off with an air of confidence that left her little choice but to follow, though she couldn't shake the feeling that he was up to something—something more than he was letting on.

As they walked through the dimly lit streets back toward the Iron Matron's inn, Valeria's thoughts raced, and suspicion began to gnaw at her.

Iron Matron

, she thought, the title solid and commanding. It seemed impossible that Lucavion, of all people, could casually refer to Mariel as "Miss Little Bear." Did he have a death wish?

Her confusion deepened as they arrived at the inn. But before she could ask him what he was thinking, the sight of Mariel sitting at the inn's entrance silenced her. The Iron Matron herself was perched on a sturdy wooden chair, arms folded, her expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. She raised an eyebrow as they approached, her gaze moving from Lucavion to Valeria, lingering a moment longer on the latter.

As Lucavion and Valeria stepped into the inn, Mariel was already waiting for them, seated near the entrance with an air of calm defiance. Her arms were crossed, her gaze steady as it swept from Lucavion to Valeria, a flicker of amusement mixed with exasperation in her eyes. She didn't look surprised to see them—if anything, she looked as if she had anticipated their arrival.

Lucavion's smirk widened as he took in her expression, a knowing glint in his eyes. "I take it you already know why we're here, Miss Little Bear?"

Mariel's lips twitched, and she gave him a slight nod, her hand extending with her palm up, fingers curled in a gesture that unmistakably demanded payment.

Lucavion chuckled, pulling out a small leather pouch and placing it into her hand. She took it, feeling the weight, her fingers closing around it with a practiced motion. Turning her attention to Valeria, she arched an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look before repeating the same gesture, palm open.

Valeria blinked, momentarily puzzled. Her eyes darted from Mariel's outstretched hand to Lucavion, who merely raised an eyebrow and gave a small, amused nod. Realization dawned, and her cheeks colored slightly in irritation, but she dug into her satchel and retrieved her own pouch, placing it into Mariel's waiting hand.

Mariel's eyes flicked to the contents of both pouches, her face impassive as she did a quick count. Satisfied, she gave them a curt nod and stood up, her gaze as commanding as ever. "Well, now that you've both settled your 'registration' fees," she said dryly, "your rooms are ready."

With that, she pulled two keys from her pocket, holding them out to each of them. Lucavion took his key with an appreciative nod, his smirk unwavering, while Valeria accepted hers with a mixture of relief and suspicion. Mariel shot them a final look that carried both warmth and the slightest hint of reproach.

"Make yourselves comfortable," she said, her tone softer but resolute. "And remember, whatever business you're stirring up out there, you're safe here as long as you're in my care." Her gaze lingered on Lucavion, a quiet reminder of the trust she had placed in him.

Lucavion gave a slight bow, his expression light but respectful. "Much appreciated, Iron Matron," he said, slipping into his usual casual demeanor.

Mariel watched as they turned toward their respective rooms, her gaze lingering on their retreating figures. Though she had received the 'request' to blacklist them from every inn in the city, her loyalty to her word outweighed any outside influence. She had given Lucavion her protection, and for better or worse, she intended to honor it.

'Well…..this was bound to happen…'

Knowing what kind of sect the Cloud Heavens Sect was, she knew this was bound to happen.

'Though this kid…..he really is irresponsible….'

Her gaze drifted to the empty hallway where he had disappeared, and she couldn't help but shake her head.

Irresponsible, reckless.

Lucavion hadn't once considered how his actions might affect those around him. First, he'd come to her inn with those two young beastkin children, leaving her to provide care and protection, and now he was stirring up trouble with one of the most powerful sects in the city.

'He truly is a worrisome guy,'

she mused, an exasperated smile pulling at her lips. He reminded her so much of

him

—the same audacious disregard for the rules, the same unwillingness to bend to authority, and the same frustrating tendency to burden others without a second thought.

But then, her expression softened.

Gerald,

the one who had saved her, who had seen something in her when she had been lost. Lucavion bore an uncanny resemblance to his master, both in his courage and in his thoughtlessness. He was the same kind of wild spirit, bound only by his own ideals, even if it meant pushing people like her to pick up the pieces.

A faint, almost wistful smile crossed her face as she thought of it. Perhaps that was just how things were meant to be. Life had a way of repeating itself, passing down legacies through unexpected hands. She had made a promise to Gerald, and now, in a way, she was fulfilling that promise by helping Lucavion.

'This is just how things are supposed to be, I guess,'

she thought, her smile lingering as she moved back to her tasks. And though it felt a little like being pulled back into her old life, into a world of battles and risks, she found herself strangely content. Lucavion might be reckless, but he carried the spark of something rare—a spirit that could shake things, maybe even change things.

And so, as Mariel returned to her work, her heart felt lighter. She would watch over him, just as she had once been watched over.

Chapter 240: On other hand

In the quiet confines of the inn where the Cloud Heavens Sect was staying, a tense, simmering anger filled the air. The disciples gathered, each one silent but visibly brimming with frustration, their expressions dark as they recounted the events with Lucavion. His mocking refusal and open disdain had been nothing short of a slap in the face—not just to Zerah, but to the sect as a whole.

And the way how he had humiliated one of their disciples like that in the fight where everyone was watching? That was basically a challenge!

Several disciples exchanged glances, their hands clenched into fists, while a few paced the room, muttering bitterly under their breaths. Each of them wanted nothing more than to teach that arrogant rogue a lesson he wouldn't forget. To have their revered sect insulted so openly was an unforgivable offense, a challenge that demanded retribution.

"He thinks he's untouchable," one disciple growled, his fists trembling. "Just because he has some skill doesn't mean he's invincible. A lesson needs to be taught."

Another disciple nodded, her voice low but laced with anger. "And to humiliate our Senior Disciple like that... the arrogance of it. He should be shown what real power looks like."

Zerah sat at the head of the room, her gaze steely as she listened, each word from her disciples feeding the smoldering resentment within her. Lucavion's mocking face, his scornful words, replayed in her mind like a wound that refused to heal. She was determined to make him pay, to restore the honor he had tainted. But her face betrayed none of this; she remained composed, if only outwardly.

One disciple leaned forward, voice filled with simmering frustration. "Sister Zerah. Why are we not acting…. No one will even know it was us—"

But before he could finish, a cough from the doorway cut through the tension, silencing the room. Elder Xue, a woman of imposing calm and wisdom, entered, her presence enough to command respect and quiet the disciples. She met each of their gazes in turn, her eyes sharp, missing nothing of the lingering resentment.

"Enough," she said, her voice soft but unyielding. "The Cloud Heavens Sect does not act rashly, not even in matters of pride." Her gaze settled on Zerah, who straightened under the weight of her elder's scrutiny. "You are disciples of our sect, each of you is held to the highest standard. Do not allow this rogue's arrogance to drag you down to his level."

The disciples exchanged frustrated glances, but Elder Xue's authority was absolute. None dared to contradict her.

"But Elder Xue," one of the disciples ventured cautiously, "he has disrespected us in front of the entire tournament. How can we let him walk away without consequence?"

Elder Xue's faint smile held a touch of cold amusement as she continued, her voice smooth and composed. "That arrogant animal is already facing his consequences, don't worry," she murmured, her words laced with satisfaction. "By now, he'll be spending tonight on the cold earth, right where he belongs."

At this, several disciples exchanged knowing glances, smirking as they understood the Elder's meaning. This tactic was an old one, a subtle punishment they often employed to remind those who dared cross the Cloud Heavens Sect of their place. Humiliating Lucavion with discomfort was a small start, though hardly satisfying for the bitterness simmering in their chests.

But as if reading their thoughts, Elder Xue's expression turned more serious, her gaze steely. "Of course, this is only the beginning," she continued, her voice soft yet laced with the promise of retribution. "Our esteemed guest will be facing much more than an uncomfortable night as we progress. I have my ways, and they will leave an impression."

Hearing this, the disciples' morale surged, their anger subsiding as anticipation replaced it. The Elder was always as precise as she was formidable, and her words carried the weight of their collective honor. The small grin that tugged at the corners of Zerah's mouth echoed the sentiment of her fellow disciples, each of them seeming to breathe a little easier at the prospect of Lucavion receiving the punishment they felt he so richly deserved.

Elder Xue's gaze swept the room, her eyes narrowing as she took in their responses. "Now, enough of this distraction. I expect each of you to focus fully on the tournament ahead. No further mistakes or oversights like we saw today will be tolerated," she continued, her voice unyielding. "And as for your evenings..."

She paused, her gaze hardening into a glare that seemed to slice through the disciples. "There will be no outings until the tournament concludes. I want each of you here, and if I catch even one of you outside these walls, I will personally break every bone in your body. Is that understood?"

The disciples stiffened at the severity of her tone, and a few of them exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier satisfaction fading into frustration. Elder Xue's restrictions hit hard; many of them were already accustomed to spending their nights out, indulging in the "fun" they had grown reliant on. A few of them huffed in irritation, clearly displeased by the sudden limitations.

But no one dared voice a complaint. Elder Xue's gaze left no room for disobedience. Instead, the disciples straightened, nodding in reluctant acceptance, the prospect of crossing her far more intimidating than any restriction.

In the end, they could only swallow their anger and hold back.

*********

The night was still, the dim glow of lanterns casting long shadows along the quiet halls of the Silver Flame Sect's quarters. Elder Kael sat on a stone bench just outside, his gaze turned upward to the night sky, lost in thought. Beside him, Varen leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, his expression serious as he mulled over the events of the day.

"He's skilled," Kael remarked, breaking the silence, his tone thoughtful. "That much is certain. A blade honed not just by talent, but by experience. It's not often we see someone who carries that kind of refinement at his age."

Varen nodded, though his jaw tightened. "Skill alone doesn't make a martial artist," he said, a note of distaste in his voice. "The way he carries himself… there's arrogance there. The type that doesn't suit someone who claims to be a warrior."

Kael glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Arrogance often accompanies talent. And Lucavion isn't just talented. His blade moves with purpose, tempered by something beyond training. He has seen real battles and faced real danger. I would call that earned confidence, not mere arrogance."

Varen frowned, shaking his head. "Confidence, yes, but he flaunts it. You saw the way he taunted that girl, made a spectacle of her weakness. It wasn't just skill—it was prideful and unnecessary." His eyes narrowed as he recalled the fight, the condescending smile that had played on Lucavion's lips as he toyed with Kara. "A martial artist should respect his opponent, not mock them."

Kael considered this, his gaze distant. "Perhaps. But there is a certain strength in his presence. Arrogance or not, he commands attention and makes people stop and watch. And if that confidence serves him well in battle, then it's an asset."

Varen's expression hardened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "An asset only until it turns into recklessness. He underestimates his opponents and uses them as a means to display his skill. That kind of arrogance—it'll be his downfall if he's not careful."

Kael let out a low chuckle. "Is that so? Or perhaps it's precisely that boldness that makes him dangerous. He doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. There is power in certainty, Varen. Sometimes, tempering that fire can dull its edge."

Varen's gaze remained unwavering, his tone resolute. "Even fire can consume itself if left unchecked. If he truly thinks he can fight with such arrogance, he'll find his limits soon enough. Skill alone isn't everything."

Kael watched him, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I see he's already left quite the impression on you, Varen."

Varen's eyes narrowed, his voice firm. "He's skilled, yes. More skilled than most here, even. But I believe a martial artist should strive for more than just victory. There's a discipline that he lacks. If he were to meet an opponent who didn't rise to his taunts, who remained unyielding… then he'd find his arrogance turned against him."

Kael leaned back, nodding slowly. "You may be right. But if he's as experienced as his blade suggests, then perhaps he'll recognize that limit when he reaches it." He glanced at Varen, his expression contemplative. "And who knows? Perhaps you'll be the one to show him that discipline, to temper that arrogance of his."

Varen's jaw tightened, his gaze distant as he considered the challenge that lay ahead. "If I get the chance," he said quietly, determination lacing his voice, "I'll make sure he learns that there's more to being a warrior than just skill. Strength should be accompanied by respect. Only then does it truly mean something."

Kael chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Then make it a lesson worth remembering, should your paths cross. But don't underestimate him. He's not one to be taken lightly."

"I will not."

"That is good. And whether you like his arrogance or not, in the end, he had also taught those…..them a lesson. Which makes him on our side…."

"While that is indeed true, it makes me wonder if he has a reason for doing all this? For me, my anger is justified, but for his way of acting, I don't understand."

"That….That is something that we will find sooner or later, don't worry."

"I understand, Elder."

The two fell into silence once more, each lost in thought as the quiet of the night settled around them. Lucavion had left his mark on both their minds, a presence that neither of them could dismiss. And as the tournament continued, both Kael and Varen knew that this rising star was bound to test not just his own limits, but theirs as well.

Chapter 241: The results

The tournament progressed with fierce intensity, and by the time the dust settled on the following day, the number of fighters had dwindled to just sixteen. The thinning crowd was proof of the relentless competition, and the atmosphere had only grown more charged. Among those who remained, the sects' rivalry now loomed even larger, shaping not only the mood of the crowd but also the fighters' determination.

The Silver Flame Sect had emerged as a dominant force, their numbers whittled down to seven disciples—a show of strength and discipline that filled their members with renewed pride. The Cloud Heavens Sect, on the other hand, had seen two of their disciples eliminated, including Kara Avren, their 'Glacial Bloom,' who had been humiliated by Lucavion.

Only four Cloud Heavens disciples remained, and the difference in numbers weighed heavily on them. Their pride was bruised, and with Silver Flame nearly doubling their representation, the tournament seemed to be tipping in favor of the fiery sect.

The remaining fighters were no less impressive, despite being unaffiliated with either sect. Among these, Lucavion and Valeria stood out.

Both had proven their skill, facing the disciples of the powerful sects with ease, each win adding to their growing reputation. Alongside them were two other warriors, each a peak 3-star or 4-star Awakened, equally fierce and skilled.

This small but formidable group of independent fighters represented the rare individuals capable of challenging the sects' authority, their every move watched by the crowd with keen interest.

As the tournament progressed and the numbers dwindled, it became clear that the rivalry between the Cloud Heavens Sect and the Silver Flame Sect would not remain contained.

With every new matchup, their disciples would fight with a fervor that went beyond mere competition—it was personal, a direct continuation of the bitter feud that had defined their histories.

And today they could see it directly.

The crowd buzzed with excitement as the matchups for the day were announced, their anticipation reaching a fever pitch.

Out of the four remaining disciples of the Cloud Heavens Sect, three had been matched against disciples of the Silver Flame Sect—a twist of fate that felt too perfect to be coincidence.

The bitter feud between the sects would play out directly in the arena, and today, the crowd would bear witness to the clash of their long-standing rivalry.

Lira Vaelan, the Silent Thunder herself, was set to face a disciple of the Silver Flame Sect, her expression calm yet focused as she prepared herself for the battle.

The crowd could sense the tension emanating from her, her every movement exuding the disciplined restraint she was known for.

Her junior disciples, who had also drawn Silver Flame opponents, mirrored her determination, each preparing for their own grudge match with equal intensity. The weight of their sect's pride was upon their shoulders, and none of them intended to falter.

For the Silver Flame Sect, the excitement was equally intense, their disciples bristling with quiet confidence as they prepared to face their Cloud Heavens counterparts.

Each one knew that this was a chance to prove themselves and to strike a blow to their rival sect's prestige. The fiery demeanor of the Silver Flame disciples was matched only by the cold, disciplined resolve of their opponents, setting the stage for an explosive series of fights.

Meanwhile, Zerah, the fourth remaining disciple of the Cloud Heavens Sect, had been paired with one of the independent fighters, a wiry, quick-footed warrior who was rumored to be a peak 3-star Awakened. The crowd looked forward to this clash, eager to see if Zerah would rise to the challenge of defending her sect's honor against a skilled outsider.

Across the arena, Varen Drakov's expression held a mixture of irritation and restrained amusement as he saw his name paired with that of one of his own sect's junior disciples. It was a twist of fate that he clearly hadn't anticipated, and the frustration was evident in the tight line of his mouth.

Despite the circumstances, Varen maintained his composure; he would show the same respect to his junior. Even though he was facing a disciple of his own sect, he wouldn't go easy on him, as this was simply against his own principles.

Then there was Lucavion, whose calm, enigmatic presence had become something of a legend among the spectators. His opponent was another of the unaffiliated fighters, a rising swordsman known for his swift footwork and precision strikes. It was a matchup that promised to be a display of skill over brute force, a clash of blades without the weight of sect rivalries or family loyalties.

Valeria was also matched with one of the Silver Flame Sect's disciples. And this would be the first time she would be going against one of the disciples of the two sects. A disciple of the Silver Flame Sect, rumored to be the third strongest in this year's batch. His name was Jarek Voss, a young man with a fierce reputation for his unyielding strength and relentless fighting style. Stories about Jarek's powerful strikes and his fiery, tenacious approach to battle had circulated widely, making him one of the more formidable opponents in the tournament. This match would be Valeria's first encounter with a sect disciple, and she knew it would not be an easy one. The crowd murmured with anticipation, eager to see how she would fare against one of the Silver Flame's elite.

Another clash was set to draw significant attention: a Silver Flame Sect disciple would be facing off against an unusual and intriguing competitor, a barehanded martial artist who had recently earned the nickname

The Monk

.

Known for his unorthodox fighting style and serene demeanor, The Monk quickly gained a reputation as a skilled, adaptable fighter who preferred using his fists and feet over weapons.

His fighting style emphasized precision, resilience, and an almost meditative calm, a stark contrast to the aggressive and explosive techniques of the Silver Flame Sect. This matchup promised to be a spectacle, with The Monk's refined, hand-to-hand techniques facing off against the raw intensity of Silver Flame's combat style.

*******

The day's matches were nothing short of intense, with each fight pushing the limits of the remaining fighters.

At the end of the day, some results came rather different.

Varen Drakov, the senior disciple of the Silver Flame Sect, fought with his usual ferocity and precision, dispatching his junior disciple swiftly but respectfully. Varen showed no mercy, adhering strictly to his principles, and his decisive victory reinforced his status as a powerhouse within his sect. He left the arena with his head held high, having set a powerful example.

Lira Vaelan, the Silent Thunder, met her Silver Flame opponent with controlled intensity, each of her moves calculated and efficient. Her calm, disciplined approach outmatched her adversary's fiery aggression, and after a well-fought battle, Lira emerged victorious. The Cloud Heavens Sect's supporters cheered, knowing she had defended their honor.

Lucavion's duel with the unaffiliated swordsman was a display of sheer skill and finesse. His opponent's swift footwork and sharp strikes were no match for Lucavion's calm precision, and in a series of elegantly timed maneuvers, Lucavion dismantled his opponent's defenses with ease. His reputation only grew as he exited the arena, having made quick work of another rising star.

Zerah, the fourth Cloud Heavens Sect disciple, faced her non-affiliated opponent with an icy calm, channeling her mana with practiced control. Her technique and overwhelming strength led her to victory, earning her another step forward in the tournament and maintaining the honor of her sect.

Valeria's match against Jarek Voss, the third-strongest disciple of the Silver Flame Sect, was one of the most grueling fights of the day. Jarek's strength and aggression tested Valeria's skill, forcing her to tap into every ounce of her training.

Despite her discipline and calculated strikes, Jarek's relentless assault pushed her to the edge. In a moment of intense concentration, Valeria managed to deflect one of his powerful attacks, finding a small opening and exploiting it to secure a hard-won victory. The crowd erupted in cheers, recognizing her resilience and determination.

The next fight saw a Silver Flame Sect disciple facing off against a Cloud Heavens Sect disciple. After a fierce back-and-forth, the Silver Flame disciple triumphed, his aggressive tactics outpacing his opponent's more measured approach.

However, in the subsequent matchup, the Silver Flame Sect suffered an unexpected loss. Their disciple appeared strangely sluggish, his usual fiery precision absent as he stumbled through the fight. Spectators and fellow disciples alike noticed the discrepancy, some whispering that something seemed off about his performance. In the end, the Cloud Heavens Sect disciple won, though murmurs of suspicion lingered in the air, suggesting that not all was as it seemed.

Finally, the crowd held its breath for the match between The Monk and his Silver Flame opponent. The Monk's serene, meditative style clashed with the aggressive energy of the Silver Flame disciple, the two fighters embodying opposing philosophies. Despite the intensity of the Silver Flame's attacks, The Monk's precise, controlled movements allowed him to evade and counter with ease, gradually wearing down his opponent. In a moment of calculated timing, he struck with pinpoint accuracy, securing his victory. The crowd roared, impressed by The Monk's unorthodox technique and calm prowess.

As the dust settled, the results were clear: Varen, Lira, Lucavion, Zerah, Valeria, and The Monk had all advanced to the quarterfinals, along with one remaining Silver Flame and one Cloud Heavens disciple. The tournament's elite eight were set.

Chapter 242: The Results (2)

The golden light of the setting sun cast long shadows across Andelheim's cobbled streets. The air hummed with the lingering energy of the day's battles, chatter from spectators and competitors blending with the rhythmic clatter of carts and the distant notes of street musicians.

Valeria trudged beside Lucavion, her posture taut with weariness. Her breathing was steady but deep, a testament to the taxing nature of her latest duel. Sweat matted a few stray strands of hair to her temple, though she held her head high, refusing to let her exhaustion show beyond what was unavoidable.

Lucavion, on the other hand, strolled with an easy grace, as if the day had been a leisurely jaunt rather than a series of grueling fights. He glanced sidelong at Valeria, noting her slightly slower pace with a faint smirk. "You look like you just wrestled a wyvern and lived to tell the tale," he remarked, his voice teasing but edged with a touch of genuine observation.

Valeria shot him a sharp glance, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Some of us don't toy with our opponents like it's a game," she countered, though the bite in her words was dulled by fatigue.

Lucavion chuckled, sidestepping a street performer juggling flaming torches with an ease that made him seem almost untouchable. "Ah, but isn't that the beauty of it? If it's not fun, why bother?" His gaze lingered on her for a beat, his tone shifting slightly. "Though, I suppose not everyone gets to fight for fun."

She didn't respond immediately, her eyes fixed ahead as they navigated through the thickening crowd. Vendors hawked roasted nuts, fragrant spices, and small trinkets along the roadside. The lively scene was a stark contrast to the battlefield they'd left behind just hours ago.

"Not everyone has your luxury," she said finally, her voice quieter. There was no venom in her words this time, only a faint trace of something unspoken—resentment or perhaps envy.

Lucavion's smirk softened, and he glanced at her sidelong. "You're too hard on yourself, Valeria," he said, his tone gentler now. "Even knights need to breathe sometimes."

The bustling streets fell into a comfortable rhythm around them. A group of children darted past, laughing as they chased a rolling hoop. Valeria slowed her steps, watching them for a moment, her expression unreadable.

Lucavion noticed, his grin returning. "See? Not everything's a battle," he said, motioning toward the kids. "Sometimes it's just life."

"..."

She huffed lightly but said nothing, her pace steadying as they moved deeper into the heart of the city. A faint smile ghosted her lips, unnoticed by Lucavion as he veered toward a vendor selling skewered meats.

The crowd thickened as they passed through the central marketplace, where the warm glow of lanterns bathed the cobblestones in golden light. The air smelled of roasted meats, spiced cider, and the faint tang of smoke from nearby forges. Valeria walked with a steady pace beside Lucavion, her thoughts a storm beneath her composed exterior.

Her mind kept drifting back to the battles earlier in the day, replaying the clash with the Silver Flame Sect's champion in vivid detail. His movements had been fluid, his strikes unrelenting—a true test of her skill. Yet, she had won, carving her way into the top eight of the tournament. The memory of the crowd's roar still lingered in her ears, faint and distant but impossible to forget.

She had heard her name—her

family's

name—shouted with fervor.

Valeria Olarion.

Not just a competitor, but the pride of the Olarion household, the noble knight who had defied expectations and risen to the top. It wasn't something she had actively sought. She hadn't hidden her identity, but she hadn't flaunted it, either. It had simply… happened. The city of Andelheim had pieced her story together on its own, and now, her name was on everyone's lips.

A surreal feeling settled over her. Pride and unease intertwined, forming a knot in her chest. She was proud—of course, she was proud. Defeating a fighter of the Silver Flame Sect, a warrior widely regarded as one of the strongest contenders, was no small feat. But as she walked the streets of Andelheim, the hum of the tournament's aftermath all around her, a quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered that it wasn't enough.

You could have done better.

Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, the weight of it grounding her. The fight had been fierce, but she couldn't shake the thought of the mistakes she had made. The missed timing on a parry. The moment she had been forced back into a defensive stance, ceding control of the fight for precious seconds. Those moments haunted her, small imperfections in what should have been a flawless victory.

Lucavion, meanwhile, ambled a few steps ahead, his skewered meat in hand, as relaxed as ever. He turned his head slightly, as though sensing her thoughts. "So, top eight," he said casually, his voice breaking through the din of the street. "Not bad for a 'knight with too much honor to fight dirty,' huh?"

Valeria arched a brow at his backhanded compliment, but her lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. "Coming from you, I'll take that as praise."

He grinned, glancing back at her. "Oh, it is. Though, you're awfully quiet for someone who just earned themselves a seat among the best. Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

"Should I?" she replied, her voice measured. "I advanced, yes, but that doesn't mean I'm satisfied."

Lucavion stopped abruptly, his relaxed stride halting mid-step. Valeria barely had time to notice before he turned to face her fully, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Without warning, his hand shot out, his thumb and index finger gently grazing her cheek and the corner of her lips.

She froze, caught off guard by the sudden closeness, her eyes widening. The sensation of his touch was fleeting but unmistakable, and the audacity of the gesture sent a jolt through her chest.

"You're awfully smiley for someone who isn't celebrating," he said, his smirk widening as he leaned back slightly, clearly reveling in her stunned reaction.

The warmth rising to her cheeks turned into a sudden rush of heat as she slapped her hand toward his wrist, her expression hardening into a glare. But Lucavion was already a step ahead. His hand had withdrawn before hers could connect, the motion so fluid it was as though he had anticipated her every move.

"Don't touch me like that!" she snapped, her voice sharp as steel, her composure barely masking her irritation—and something else she couldn't quite name.

He chuckled, unbothered, his smirk now a full-blown grin. "Relax, Valeria. It was just an observation," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Though I can't help but notice… you're not denying it."

Her glare sharpened, her fingers tightening around her sword's hilt as though she was debating whether to draw it just to make a point. "Deny what? That you're insufferable?" she shot back, her voice cold, though the flush on her cheeks betrayed her otherwise composed demeanor.

"Touchy," Lucavion teased, taking a leisurely bite of his skewer as he resumed walking. "But fine, I'll drop it. For now."

Valeria exhaled sharply, her irritation simmering as she fell into step behind him. She refused to let his antics linger in her mind—there were more important things to focus on, like her performance in the tournament and the battles yet to come. But even as she tried to push the moment aside, she caught herself brushing her cheek absently with her fingers, her brow furrowing in annoyance.

What is his problem?

she thought, her mind churning.

Why does he always have to get under my skin?

But in the end, all of that ended abruptly.

Since the din of the bustling streets seemed to shift suddenly, subtle but distinct. Valeria's steps faltered, her senses sharpening as a faint prickle ran down her spine. Her eyes darted to the corners of the alley they were passing through, noting shadowy figures lingering just beyond the reach of the lantern light. The air felt heavier now, oppressive with the presence of multiple auras. She counted at least five—no, six—and one of them radiated a force that stood out, stronger than the rest.

Her hand instinctively moved to her sword, her grip tightening as her muscles coiled in preparation. "Lucavion," she said lowly, her voice laced with urgency. "We're being followed. There are at least six of them."

Lucavion, still a step ahead, turned to glance over his shoulder. His smirk was firmly in place, though his sharp eyes flicked briefly around their surroundings. "Only six?" he said, his tone light and teasing. "You're slipping, Valeria. Took you long enough to notice."

Her glare could have cut through steel. "This isn't the time to joke," she snapped, her voice tense. "Stay sharp."

But Lucavion didn't seem the least bit concerned. He slowed his pace just enough to fall in beside her, biting off another piece of his skewer as though they were on a casual stroll. "Relax," he said, his voice calm and casual. "We're already in safe waters."

Valeria's brows knit in confusion, but then she realized what he meant. As she scanned their surroundings again, her narrowed eyes caught the familiar shape of the Iron Matron's inn just ahead. Its sturdy, weathered facade stood out even in the dim light, its golden lanterns casting a welcoming glow across the cobblestones.

Her steps slowed as she processed his words, but her unease didn't fade. "You knew?" she asked, her tone sharp with disbelief. "You knew they were there, and you just—what? Walked us straight into a trap?"

Lucavion shrugged, his smirk tilting into something sharper. "Trap? Hardly. They wouldn't dare make a move this close to the Iron Matron. Even fools know where the lines are drawn."

Valeria's eyes flicked back toward the shadowed figures, who had stopped at the edge of the alley. They lingered there, their auras still present but hesitant. It was as though an invisible boundary kept them at bay, one they weren't willing to cross.

She turned back to Lucavion, her expression still guarded. "And if they

had

crossed that line?"

He grinned, his confidence maddeningly unshaken. "Then I'd have let you handle them, of course. You need the practice, after all."

Her glare could have melted stone, but she chose not to respond, instead brushing past him and striding toward the inn's entrance. The Iron Matron loomed like a sanctuary, its warmth and noise spilling out into the cool night air. Whatever game Lucavion was playing, she wasn't in the mood to entertain it—not when her instincts were still screaming that this wasn't over.

But well, at this point she was already dragged into it.

And, though she did not know, she was not being honest with herself at all.

As they stepped inside, Valeria cast one last glance over her shoulder and she saw that five people in blue robes were approaching them slowly.

They were not even hiding their intent at all.

'Sigh…..'

She could only sigh to herself.