Lost in his thoughts, Lin stood detached from the world around him. The arena shook with the deafening roars of the crowd, like a storm without end—yet to Lin, it was all distant noise. His mind wandered elsewhere, searching, planning, desperate to find a way out.
But before he could sink deeper into that mental abyss, a calm yet firm voice pulled him back to reality.
It was Ian, standing beside him, his face as unreadable as ever. Yet, that voice alone was enough to snap Lin back.
Before Lin could respond, the supervisor stepped into the arena and called out the names:
"Sirk, you’re first. Then Ian. After that, Luna. And finally... Lin. I want all of you to reclaim your honor—and the honor of all knights!"
Sirk strode into the arena, eyes burning with fury. He didn’t just want to win—he wanted to prove himself to Luna, to show her he was better than Lin.
Lin, realizing what Sirk was trying to do, muttered to himself, "What the hell is this crap?"
Across from him stood Nova, the Ice Witch, the crowd chanting her name in unison.
The battle began. Sirk lunged forward with fierce intent, but Nova simply raised her hand, and a towering wall of ice erupted between them, blocking his blade. Before he could retreat, shards of ice shot toward him like a storm.
Sirk dodged swiftly and countered with a swift slash, breaking through the ice barrier and grazing her cheek. Yet instead of faltering, Nova looked at him coldly and hissed,
In the blink of an eye, she thrust her hand forward. A massive cannon of ice slammed into Cirk, throwing him backward. As he struggled to rise, the ground beneath him began to freeze. Then, without mercy, icy spikes erupted beneath his feet, piercing through his body.
He crashed to the ground, blood pooling beneath him, and the once-roaring arena fell into stunned silence... before erupting again, as if it had just witnessed the grandest performance.
"The winner... Nova!" the judge’s voice echoed, but Lin barely registered it. Everything around him faded before the horrifying scene:
Sirk’s body lay torn atop the ice, impaled by jagged spikes—one through his shoulder, another his gut, a third pinning his thigh to the ground like a shattered puppet. Blood painted the white ice a deep crimson, transforming the arena into a grisly altar.
He was still breathing—but barely. The rage in his eyes had faded into a glassy, hollow stare. No pain left, only the slow surrender to darkness.
And just before the final flicker of life escaped him, his lips moved.
And the crowd? Still cheering. Still celebrating. As if death were nothing more than a spectacle.
Lin felt his chest tighten. His hand trembled slightly around his sword. He had seen death before, but not —not in such raw, brutal finality.
"Ian... Prepare yourself!" the supervisor called.
Lin snapped out of his trance and warned Ian, "Don’t lose."
Ian grinned as he headed into the ring. "Don’t worry, brother-in-law. I won’t let you down."
Lin raised one eyebrow and lowered the other... then turned to find Luna’s face flushed red.
He muttered, "The hell is wrong with you two? You almost got me killed just a moment ago, and now you’re flirting?! Do you not realize the situation we’re in?!"
Meanwhile, something was brewing—Frosseta’s aura surged like a blizzard about to devour the arena.
Lin wisely avoided looking in her direction.
Ian’s First Battle: Crushing the Ice Witch
Ian walked into the ring with a calm smile, as if this was just a stroll through the park. Nova stood across from him, icy magic swirling around her like a storm, her eyes gleaming with deadly calm.
"I won’t be an easy opponent," she said in a frosty tone, then raised her hand. Dozens of ice spears burst toward him with terrifying speed.
Ian didn’t flinch. He walked forward, casually sidestepping each spear as if they were no more than gusts of wind.
"That’s it?" he scoffed, chuckling. "Really? I expected more from a frozen old hag."
Nova’s eyes flared with fury. She clapped her hands, freezing the ground beneath Ian and summoning towering walls of ice to trap him.
But before her spell could finish—he vanished.
"What?!" she gasped, just before she sensed him behind her.
"I love that angry face of yours," he whispered mockingly... then smacked the back of her head with his sword’s hilt.
Her eyes widened—and she collapsed, unconscious.
The crowd was silent for a second... then the arena erupted in gasps and cheers.
Ian raised his sword, preparing to end her once and for all—
Luna leapt into the arena, grabbing Ian’s wrist before the final blow landed. They exchanged a glance—and Ian stepped back with a smug grin.
Ian vs. Kyle: Vengeance for a Sister
The crowd held its breath. Tension crackled in the air as Kyle entered the ring—Ice and Water Mage, brother of the fallen Nova. His eyes burned with vengeance.
"You filthy traitor’s son... I’ll make you pay!" Kyle roared, unleashing a surge of water and frost. The ground beneath Ian’s feet froze, walls of ice closed in, and a swirling vortex of water surrounded them both.
But Ian, unfazed, smirked. "Ice and water? That’s cute. Let me show you real combat."
With that, a wave of searing flame erupted from his body. His aura ignited, forming a blazing vortex that clashed violently with Kyle’s storm. Fire devoured the oxygen around them, forming a flaming barrier that shielded Ian from the cold.
Lin, watching from the sidelines, was stunned. "How did he grow this powerful... so fast?"
"I won’t lose!" Kyle shouted, conjuring a massive wall of fragmented ice, while simultaneously channeling a fusion spell—one that combined ice and water into a devastating force. His hands glowed as the chaotic energy swirled around him, trembling with unstable might.
But just as he began the incantation—
Lin’s eyes narrowed. "He can’t be allowed to finish that."
In a heartbeat, Lin hurled his sword, channeling nearly all his fiery aura into the blade. It flew like lightning, wrapped in flames.
"You’re not finishing that spell," he whispered.
The sword tore through the swirling fusion magic—and BOOM!
A violent explosion rocked the arena, flames and ice colliding in a storm that sent Ian and Kyle flying. Water, dust, and fire surged into the air.
"Draw!" the judge shouted, voice shaking.
Both fighters rose slowly, bodies battered—but eyes still burning with unyielding resolve.
Ian, catching his breath, nodded at Kyle. "You’re strong. I didn’t expect that."
Kyle, trembling but upright, replied, "For my sister... I’ll give everything. Remember that."
Lin muttered from the side, "...Idiots."
Luna’s Battle: Three Consecutive Victories
Luna stepped into the arena with steady steps, her eyes blazing with resolve. Her body shimmered with a faint golden aura that pulsed with light, as if it were an extension of her fighting spirit.
Her first opponent was a seasoned mage, surrounded by a soft blue glow—an unmistakable sign of wind magic. He swiftly raised his hand, summoning sharp wind currents around him to keep Luna at bay.
But she gave him no chance. Her aura flared, weaving into golden threads that wrapped around the sword in her hand, giving it a sacred glow. She dashed forward in a blur, sharpening her aura along her blade. With a single strike, the winds split before her as if they never existed.
The mage barely caught a glimpse of that golden flash before her sword hit. His magical shield shattered in an instant, and he collapsed to the ground, unable to move.
In her second match, she faced a towering fighter with a heavy gray aura that radiated brute resilience. He relied on absolute defense—his body was like an unshakable mountain. He smirked confidently as he raised a massive fist.
But Luna didn’t need brute strength. Her luminous aura gathered around her legs, shaping itself according to her will—an ability unique to knights. While mages are born with one fixed elemental gift, knights can mold their aura into endless forms, guided by their mindset.
In a heartbeat, her speed turned into lightning. She danced around her opponent with graceful precision, then landed a sharp strike to the joints of his legs. The sound echoed, and the giant felt a chill flood his limbs before his knees buckled.
Before he could recover, Luna’s sword lit up once more, sending him flying out of the ring with a decisive final blow.
Her third battle was against a fighter named Irina, known for her impenetrable defense. Her blue aura flowed around her like a shield of water, fluid and ever-shifting, repelling any incoming attack.
Irina smiled with quiet confidence—none of her previous opponents had broken through her guard.
But before she could fully form her defense, Luna was already in motion. This time, she channeled her radiant aura into her sword’s edge, shaping it into a cutting beam of light.
There was no clash. Only a clean slice. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel※fire.net
The watery aura vanished in an instant. Irina was hurled from the arena before she even understood what had happened.
Three consecutive victories.
The crowd erupted in cheers—but Luna didn’t flinch. Her eyes were fixed on one person alone... Frosita.
Moments before the final match...
At the top platform, the Matriarch sat with calm, sharp eyes, watching the arena below. Everyone waited for the next fighter to be announced—until Frostita stepped forward, walking toward her mother with purpose.
"I want to fight in the final."
It wasn’t a request. It was a declaration. Her voice carried no doubt, and the cold aura that surrounded her made several in the crowd shiver. Ice seeped into the air, like winter’s breath solidifying around her.
The Matriarch didn’t move, but her eyes scanned her daughter intently.
"The final fighter has already been chosen."
"That doesn’t matter." Frosita raised her chin, as if daring even the idea of refusal. "If this is the final round, then I must be in it. Anyone else would be unworthy."
Then, with a voice sharp enough to pierce steel, she added:
"I need to show the traitors that the property of Frost is off-limits."
A chill ran down Lin’s spine.
Her eyes gleamed with a deadly frost, but the real fire blazed in her heart. This wasn’t just a match. It was a reckoning.
The crowd roared as if they’d been waiting for this moment all along. Her name swept through the arena like a rising storm, and with every cheer, her icy aura grew colder.
The Matriarch gazed at her for a long moment, a faint smile forming on her lips. Then she tilted her head and asked:
"Is this love... or a desire for possession?"
But Frosita said nothing. She didn’t need to.
The Matriarch closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and announced in a quiet yet commanding voice:
"Very well, Frosita. The final is yours."
The crowd exploded in excitement, her name echoing like thunder through the stands.
Frosita turned slowly. Her gaze met Luna’s—not as a challenge, but as a warning.
"So... betrayal runs in your bloodline, doesn’t it?" she said, her voice like cracking ice. "Tell me, did you inherit it from your father? Or are you perfecting it in your own way?"
Luna didn’t hesitate. Her eyes flared, her aura blazing like a sun refusing to be smothered by frost.
"Let’s end this, you wicked bitch."