In the Empire, there is one building that becomes incredibly busy only once a year.
Its walls have been worn down by centuries of strong winds, but the caretakers never repair them.
The rusted metal follows the same rule.
They only clean it to preserve the marks of time or prepare facilities for people to enjoy.
This place is Aizen Arena, where scars are badges of honor.
It’s a grand dueling arena designed to accommodate all the academy students and spectators.
In its crowded lobby, a man dressed in ragged clothing strolled casually.
Everyone except for the attendants in uniforms was dressed so finely that it was clear at a glance they were nobles.
“More people have gathered than last year.”
“Well, they’re probably here to scout out some promising young talents.”“Is that all? Opportunities to see that man’s face at an official tournament aren’t common.”
The raggedly dressed man shifted his gaze from the chatting crowd to the serene corridor nearby.
In stark contrast to the bustling crowd, a few individuals walked briskly without obstruction.
The carpet they tread upon was reserved only for the upper echelons of nobility.
“Hmph.”
The man, uneasy, approached an attendant nearby and asked, “Where’s the entrance?”
A deep, commanding voice.
The attendant gulped nervously and acted with utmost courtesy. Though the man’s attire was shabby, his mere presence here indicated he had passed a status verification process as a noble.
“You may wait there. As the people ahead of you proceed, please advance step by step.”
The man blinked.
What he had assumed was just a gathered crowd turned out to be a line of people waiting their turn.
As he sighed, a commotion erupted behind him.
“Athera, over here, here!”
“What? That’s as far as you got?”
“Hey, I came early for this, you know.”
“Don’t lie, Magdal. You were probably dawdling again.”
“You should be grateful I made it here at all, Bernthal.”
Two of the man’s companions pushed their way into the line ahead.
“But where’s Emeric?”
“Oh, Emeric’s over there.”
A woman pointed to the quiet corridor.
Walking past, a man gave a slight nod to his companions.
The man who had arrived first frowned.
“So, Emeric comes from a wealthy family, but… to this extent?”
The man in rags thought of saying something but held back.
“Well, forget it. It might be some kind of custom.”
He was a stranger in a foreign land.
He quietly observed the situation.
“Excuse me, young master and young lady. According to the rules, latecomers must wait at the very back—”
The woman slipped some money into the attendant’s hand and pressed a finger to her lips.
“Shh.”
“Ahem. I must be quite tired lately. It seems I’ve been mistaken. Please proceed.”
Corruption exists everywhere.
He had barely opened his mouth to rebuke the unfairness but stopped short.
“It’s not every day a senior comes out to cheer you on. I hope you achieve good results.”
“Be honest, Bernthal. You’ve bet money on Frostheart, haven’t you?”
“Like you’re any different, Athera.”
The man quietly eavesdropped on their conversation.
“So, what did you bet on? One win?”
“I’m not as petty as you. I bet on two wins.”
“Oh, you know the odds are higher, but the chances are lower, right?”
“Athera, Bernthal, are you guys really here to cheer them on? If you’re going all in, you should’ve bet on them winning the whole thing.”
The man called Magdal proudly displayed a betting slip.
The amount wagered on Frostheart’s victory was no small sum, making the two gasp in surprise.
“Did you empty out all your savings for this?”
“You do realize it’s a team structure, right? No matter how talented those three are, it’s still a stretch.”
“Don’t say such things. I was under his leadership, so I know. He’ll pull off another miraculous feat this time.”
“…But he’s terrible at magic.”
“That’s true, but still.”
The man turned his gaze away from them and stepped into the space vacated as the line moved forward.
“Are they acquaintances of his?”
Aol decided to let it slide this time.
But magic?
It made sense he couldn’t do it.
After all, his family was a swordsmanship family.
***
The building’s structure and the packed audience resembled a colosseum.
Standing in its center, I couldn’t help but wonder if Olympic athletes felt this way.
Due to some kind of ceremony, I ended up standing alongside representatives of the various academies.
The student council presidents of Everblaze and Scarlett Academy, their faces tense, carefully monitored their students to prevent any mistakes.
Having endured much hardship to get here, some students were dozing off, causing their presidents’ brows to twitch.
“Those idiots…”
“Do they even understand the significance of this precious event?”
Meanwhile, Ares was staring directly at me.
—Why is he staring at me so intensely?
“Ahem, another year has passed, and we’re gathered here once more.”
I turned my head toward the sudden, aged voice.
A white-bearded old man clad in a black and blue robe stood before us.
It was Grand Mage Lynderi, the head of the Mage Tower.
Organizing the Integrated Tournament was the Mage Tower’s tradition, so his appearance didn’t cause much surprise.
“Everyone, relax your shoulders, like this man here.”
Lynderi grabbed both of my arms as he said this.
Suddenly, I became the center of attention, leaving me blinking in bewilderment.
Because of the ‘Noble Blood Ember’, my posture must have seemed overly relaxed.
“Oh, strong arms indeed. Just as expected of a duke’s son. You’ll make an excellent knight.”
I wanted to assert proudly that I was a mage, but I held back for now.
“However, it seems the competition has been too intense again this year. Everyone looks quite worn out.”
Lynderi’s gaze swept over the students and stopped at the Frostheart faction.
“It seems Frostheart had a smooth journey here. Hmm?”
He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to see more clearly, and even sniffed the air.
“This scent of soap… Did they visit the Berckel Thermes Baths?”
Though his eyes were on them, it was clear he was addressing me.
“Well, it’s a rare outing, so a little relaxing vacation shouldn’t hurt, right?”
“But to go there of all places at this time? You might want to take this more seriously.”
I let out a slight laugh.
Lynderi gave a wry smile, as if he thought my attitude was one of resignation.
“Oh, it seems the time has come.”
Lynderi tucked his pocket watch away and pulled out his staff.
Following this, other prominent mages appeared in droves, commencing the traditional opening of the festival.
The talented mages darkened the once-clear sky to black.
It wasn’t long before lights illuminated the now darkened canvas of the heavens.
White flames spread across the black backdrop like they were burning it, revealing the trophy reserved only for the winning academy.
Yearning gazes could be felt all around.
Among the spectators were likely alumni who once shed blood and sweat to try to grasp that trophy themselves.
And near me stood those currently striving for it.
The student council president of Scarlett Academy murmured in a desperate voice.
“If only I could carve my name into that trophy…”
A trophy that consumes names.
In terms of rank, it was a supreme magical artifact.
The rumor was that by placing a paper with one’s name written in blood into the chalice, one could receive its blessing. This was no mere speculation but a confirmed truth in the game.
Not that it had anything to do with me.
Only the members of the winning team could place their names into the cup.
“Well then, let us explain the rules before the matches begin.”
Lynderi concealed the trophy and swung his staff.
A sharp sword flew toward him.
Shwick!
The second-year students were momentarily stunned.
The sword came to a halt right before Lynderi’s neck.
“This blade is coated in mana,” Lynderi explained, pushing the sharp tip with his palm.
Not a single drop of blood was spilled.
“Even if real swords are used, you won’t be able to cut your opponent. Victory is determined only by subduing your opponent with strikes.”
It was a necessary safety measure, as killing was strictly prohibited in Aizen Arena.
“And the same applies to magic. If the spell is detected to have lethal force, the casting will be scaled down, and its destructive power reduced.”
He also demonstrated safety measures for the spectators.
The protective barriers spread around the arena were maintained by elite mages from the Mage Tower.
This was the reason they oversaw Aizen Arena’s management.
For a moment, I wondered.
Could the person who first taught me magic be here as well?
After all, Camelo was also from the Mage Tower.
As I scanned the area for Camelo, Lynderi continued his explanation.
Words about honor and tradition—things that didn’t need my attention.
My gaze eventually landed on an entrance in the wall.
Standing at the door to the waiting room was Camelo, holding a book.
I should talk to him later.
“Well then, those selected should enter the waiting room. The rest should prepare for the upcoming team battle. The specifics will be explained by the supervisors.”
What was about to begin was the team battle.
It involved forming teams, engaging in horseback combat, or participating in siege warfare-style scenarios.
Of course, the chosen representatives didn’t participate in this, so I headed straight for the waiting room.
As I walked, Lynderi approached and whispered to me.
“Ahem. By the way, I don’t see Dorosian around.”
So that’s why he’d been hovering near me. It was because of Dorosian.
It made sense; as a Grand Mage, he wouldn’t ignore her absence.
After all, she was the woman he had designated as his successor.
“She said she wasn’t interested in these antics and forfeited,” I replied.
Lynderi made a gloomy expression.
“As expected. Her personality hasn’t changed. She didn’t even consider coming here.”
“Hm? She did come, though.”
“What?”
Lynderi’s face was filled with astonishment.
Now that I think about it, Dorosian had never once set foot in Aizen Arena.
Not in any iteration of the game.
I’d grown used to such changes, but Lynderi seemed unaccustomed to it.
“Well, this is quite the surprise.”
With that, Lynderi withdrew.
I was about to approach Camelo to talk when I realized he had vanished.
Perhaps he had urgent matters to attend to. Our conversation would have to wait.
“Well then, let’s head inside and review the strategies we’ve prepared,” I said, leading the Frostheart representatives toward the waiting room.
***
The audience seats were packed as well.
But not all of them.
Looking up, one could see the upper floors with attached windows.
Inside, the environment was comfortable and free from the crowds.
Aol casually scanned the view near the windows.
The highest floor.
There, a waiter carrying a tray walked with precise steps toward the seated guests.
Those guests were members of the royal family.
And the heads of the great noble families, known to be the emperor’s closest confidants.
Aol carefully observed Ahille, who was sitting in his place, with a hawk-like gaze.
She was mingling among high-ranking officials, laughing and chatting cheerfully.
“She’s genuinely enjoying herself. It seems she hasn’t discovered.”
There was no need to worry about estate matters.
The second son, Deisel, had been learning the ropes for a long time, and although his personality was rough, he was competent.
The only problem was that he was Ahille’s loyal puppet.
“Deisel better keep his mouth shut.”
After a long wait, the match finally began.
“Oh, it’s starting now.”
“Hope they don’t embarrass themselves too much.”
“They’ll do fine, Athera. Those kids have been through real battles with us.”
Aol glanced sideways.
It was the same group of Athera and her companions who had stuck close ever since they lined up.
Even in their assigned seats, their voices continued to fill the air.
“A bit noisy, but not bad. At least I get to hear bits about my sons now and then.”
While scanning the faces of the three, Aol suddenly noticed something strange.
The Frostheart he remembered would never make such expressions.
A world where comrades frequently perished.
A place where even the heart froze solid, leaving fewer and fewer people who tried to forge bonds with others.
Those who laughed in that environment were often those deeply engrossed in comedy, trying to forget the bitter reality.
Either way, such emotions were not good.
They piled up, and even if one smiled, it was merely the effort of lifting heavy lips.
Of course, this wasn’t something that applied to the rougher, younger Aol.
But as an adult, it led him to ask a question.
“What is Frostheart like these days? Is it still divided into three dormitories?”
Athera looked surprised.
Whether it was the tone of his voice or the fact that he had asked her directly was unclear.
But soon, understanding dawned on her face, and she first gave a bitter smile before bursting into a wide grin.
“Oh, are you a senior from there?”
Aol nodded lightly.
Athera let out a thoughtful “Hmm,” then began to speak.
“The first two years were absolute hell, but, well, the last year was fun.”
Thanks to a certain troublemaker.
To read Chapters ahead 👇
CH 216-220 (Integrated Academy Tournament) $3
CH 221-225 (The Underdog) $3
CH 226-230 (Who am I?) $3
CH 231-235 (Frostheart Vs Wisdom) $3
CH 236-240 (I want to lose) $3
CH 241-245 (Finals) $3
CH 246-250 (Vs Valient) $3
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