[Scene: Imperial's Thoughts Before the Tournament]
Imperial stood quietly behind the towering main gate of the Valorian Arena, the immense coliseum stretching out before him like a sleeping giant carved from stone and glory. Towering walls loomed beneath a sky brushed with golden light, the hush of morning barely restraining the impending storm of the crowd's roar. A cool breeze whispered through the open arches, ruffling his dark hair and brushing his skin with a tingling chill.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the dusty scent of the arena floor and the faint aroma of oil and steel from distant weapons. His breath was slow, steady, an anchor against the surging storm inside his chest.
Finally… The word echoed in his mind like a drumbeat in the silence. The day has come. The day I prove I'm not the same helpless boy anymore.
His heart hammered. Excitement clashed with nerves, twisting together in a fiery knot that made his pulse pound and goosebumps break along his arms. Countless hours of training in the shadows, the cuts, the bruises, the relentless drills with Kaien… They had all led him to this moment.
But even with all that, a flicker of doubt stirred at the edges of his mind like a shadow just out of reach.
Can I really do this? Can I show them all how much I've grown?
His fingers brushed against the hilt of Raiktsu, the cool, familiar metal calming him instantly. The sword pulsed faintly with the energy stored within—a secret, dangerous reservoir hidden from the world.
No turning back now.
[Scene: Arena Announcer Hypes the Crowd]
A booming voice shattered the stillness, erupting from hidden crystal amplifiers and shaking the stadium like a rolling wave of thunder.
"Ladies and gentlemen!! Welcome to the grand tournament of Valoria!! Are you ready for a day of legend-making battles?!"
The crowd answered with a deafening roar that seemed to shake the stone itself. Flags fluttered above the stands, vibrant and wild. Banners flapped like wings, and bursts of magical fireworks painted the sky in arcs of light.
"YEAHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
The arena trembled under the sheer weight of their excitement. The energy in the air was electric, infectious, and alive with possibility. Imperial felt it seep into his bones, vibrating through his skin like a second heartbeat.
[Scene: Imperial Arrives at Participant Hall]
The participant waiting area buzzed with tension—low voices, clinking armor, and the scratch of steel being honed to perfection. Dozens of competitors paced or sat in focused silence, some with eyes closed in meditation, others sharpening blades with slow, methodical strokes.
Imperial walked beside Ari, whose quiet presence was a calming light in the chaos. She offered him a soft smile, and he returned it with a grateful nod.
But the moment he entered, not all gazes were friendly.
"Isn't that the kid who can't even control his magic?" a sharp voice cut through the low murmur.
"Why's he even here? He's not cut out for this."
The whispers were thinly veiled daggers, thrown without shame. He felt their sting but kept his chin high. The temptation to snap back rose like fire in his chest—but he reined it in.
His gaze scanned the room and locked onto a particular figure: Magna.
Tall. Composed. Watchful.
His eyes were like cold steel—sharp, appraising, quietly dangerous. There was no sneer, no laughter. Just calculation.
Another one who thinks I'm easy prey, Imperial thought, a small, amused smirk curling his lips.
Let him watch.
[Scene: Announcement Before Matches Start]
The announcer's voice rang out again, crisp, practiced, and impossibly loud.
"Before we begin, a few important details!"
"Out of 43 participants, three fighters have been seeded directly into the quarterfinals due to their outstanding mission records and previous tournament performances."
"Their names — Kai Alden! Zeran Drake! Leo Rock!"
The crowd's response was thunderous. These were the names on every spectator's lips—the titans in training, the favorites to win it all.
Imperial's heart thudded as the match-ups flashed across the massive hovering board, each name illuminated with shimmering magic.
Arena 5.
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Five's my lucky number.
Ari gently patted his back. "Good luck, Imperial. I'll be cheering for you all the way."
He nodded, warmed by her faith in him. Far away, back at the Alden estate, Lyra watched the broadcast from a floating crystal-screen. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, but her smile—proud and tender—spoke volumes.
[Scene: Imperial's First Match – Arena 5]
The heavy doors of Arena 5 groaned open, revealing a circular stone battlefield kissed by sunlight and surrounded by packed spectators. Every seat was filled, the crowd leaning forward with eager eyes.
Imperial stepped inside. His boots struck the ground with confidence, each footstep echoing across the enclosed space.
His opponent was already waiting: a noble boy, robed in sapphire blue, his every movement elegant. Known for precise, fluid water magic.
The referee raised his hand. "Match — begin!"
At once, the royal formed a glistening orb of compressed water, which twisted and surged into a cannon-like shape.
A shimmering Bubble Cannon fired toward Imperial, blinding and fast.
Instinct screamed: Lightning Walk. But he held back.
I can't reveal too much yet.
Instead, he grounded himself, crackling energy coiling along his blade.
The blast struck with a thunderous splash, but Imperial didn't budge. The crowd gasped at the display of sheer control.
The noble's frustration grew. With a furious cry, he summoned a massive sphere of water and hurled it like a boulder.
"Enough," Imperial muttered.
With a single, decisive slash, lightning surged outward in a brilliant arc, detonating the water sphere mid-air.
The opponent was flung backward into the arena wall with a resounding crash.
Silence.
Then—
"Winner: Imperial Alden!!"
The crowd roared, stunned and elated.
Back home, Lyra and Ari clapped joyfully. In the royal viewing room, Kai and Zeran exchanged knowing smirks.
"That kid's better than he lets on," Zeran muttered.
Imperial, breath still heavy, frowned slightly.
Damn… I forgot about the sword again.
[Flashback – Magic Measurement Before Tournament]
He remembered the test. The numbers. The stares.
And Kaien's warning:
"If anyone sees the true depth of your magic, they'll start asking dangerous questions. Store most of it in your sword — fight smart."
Imperial had sealed away nearly 60% of his power into Raiktsu. But already, the sword's power was leaking more than he wanted.
I have to be more careful.
[Scene: Two More Matches]
In the next two rounds, Imperial fought with precision. His movements were tight, efficient. He dodged, parried, struck—always calculated, always holding back just enough.
He won both matches, but not with overwhelming dominance. It was deliberate.
The crowd noticed. Whispers shifted from doubt to curiosity… and respect.
[Scene: Quarterfinal Matchups Revealed]
The announcer's voice returned.
"Now — it's time for the quarterfinals! Our top eight fighters are ready!"
Names blazed across the sky:
Match 1 – Zeran Drake vs. Nox
Match 2 – Kai Alden vs. Rayne
Match 3 – Leo Rock vs. Bram
Match 4 – Imperial Alden vs. Magna
The crowd buzzed with anticipation.
[Scene: Imperial and Ari Walking to the Main Arena]
Their footsteps echoed through the stone corridor. Ahead, the tunnel opened into the blinding light of the main arena.
Magna walked ahead with his two companions, his stride confident, unwavering.
Imperial quickened his pace and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey, Magna! I'm excited for our match. Best of luck—"
But one of Magna's friends shoved his hand away, eyes blazing.
"Stay away from him, you royal bastard!"
The tension in the hall shifted instantly. Crackling. Dangerous.
Spectators nearby stopped and stared.
Magna said nothing—just stared into Imperial's eyes, the silence between them louder than any shout.
Imperial's jaw tightened.
This isn't just about the fight anymore.