Chapter 149
Captain Edran looked down at the arena with his heart beating heavily in his chest.
It had been a long time since he had felt something like this while watching a battle. Years, probably. Maybe not since he had been a little boy sitting in the stands and watching his first arena fight.
Back then every clash had seemed important and every fighter had looked larger than life. As he grew older and entered the army himself, that feeling had slowly disappeared. He had fought in too many battles, watched too many people die, and seen too many warriors swing swords at one another to become excited over something as simple as a tournament match.
Yet somehow, today felt different.
Part of that was because the battle had become personal. A party from his own warband was standing in the arena. Rayne, Bran, and Jason represented him whether they intended to or not, while on the other side stood the Crimson Guard, a force backed by the First Prince himself.
Even without the Frayser name attached to the battle, the implications alone were enough to attract attention from half the city.
Still, more than the politics behind it all, it was the battle itself that kept his eyes fixed on the sand below.
Atticus moved like a lightning storm.
Every time the young noble attacked, arcs of electricity burst around him and scorched the ground beneath his boots. His speed was absurd. Even Edran found his eyes struggling to keep track of every movement.
The man reminded him of a storm panther from the northern forests, a monster known for overwhelming prey through speed before they even understood what was happening. It was easy to understand why the crowd loved him so much.
The cheers rolling through the arena were loud enough that his ears almost hurt. Yet Atticus wasn't the only reason the crowd had become so invested in the battle.
Rayne also was.
The audience had clearly expected the fight to be over by now. After watching Atticus dismantle the adventurer party earlier, most people probably assumed Rayne would last a few seconds before being overwhelmed.
Instead, he was still standing.
Every attack Atticus launched was being met by a shield. Every time the noble changed direction, Rayne somehow reacted in time. Lightning exploded whenever the sword met the shield, filling the arena with flashes of gold mana. Despite the force behind each strike, Rayne refused to take a single step backwards.
That was what truly surprised Edran.
Most people were focused entirely on Atticus. He wasn't. His attention remained fixed on Rayne.
More specifically, on the faint threads of mana that occasionally moved around the young soldier's shoulders and arms.
The movements were subtle enough that most spectators would never notice them, but Edran did. Rayne was preparing something. He wasn't simply defending.
He was building toward an attack of his own, and judging by the increasingly aggressive way Atticus fought, the noble either hadn't noticed or was too frustrated to care.
The battle clearly wasn't going the way he had expected. Another clash echoed throughout the arena and sparks scattered through the air.
Beside him, Casper muttered, “He has improved a lot since the first day he showed me his new skills.”
Edran glanced toward her, but the mage never looked away from the arena.
On her other side, Captain Verella smiled faintly before saying, “You don't see someone gain skills like his without the gods taking notice. Bad blood or not, the gods favour him.”
Edran couldn't help agreeing with that.
There was a reason he had supported Rayne as much as he had over the past months. The young man had proven his worth repeatedly, but what truly convinced Edran was what came after his class advancement.
After hearing about the new skills Rayne had gained and the potential they carried, it had become impossible not to see the opportunity standing right in front of him.
Whether the kingdom liked it or not, whether the nobles liked it or not, and whether the Frayser name carried a stain or not, Rayne was becoming something special.
The battle unfolding in the arena only reinforced that belief.
For a brief moment, Edran's attention shifted away from the center of the arena.
His eyes moved toward the other side of the battlefield where the remaining members of both parties were engaged.
Darius was attempting to create distance between himself and Bran, but the old ranger wasn't making it easy. Arrow after arrow left his bow in quick succession, forcing the guard to keep moving. Even from the stands, Edran could see that several of those arrows had been coated with something.
Some carried a faint discoloration around their heads, and poison was the most likely answer.
A few meters away, Jason and Mikel were locked in a much more straightforward fight.
The two men traded heavy blows without much finesse, shields and weapons colliding repeatedly as they attempted to overpower one another. Neither seemed willing to give ground, and each clash sent small sprays of sand into the air.
The distance separating them from the center of the arena had become large enough that it almost felt like two completely different battles were taking place at the same time.
Then a sudden yelp from the crowd pulled Edran's attention back toward the main event.
The battle between Rayne and Atticus had already changed.
The defensive exchange from earlier was gone. Now it was Atticus who was creating distance.
Rayne advanced relentlessly, launching one [Death Strike] after another. The attacks never connected directly, but they didn't need to.
Each strike slammed into the sand with enough force to send dirt and dust exploding upward. Small clouds formed throughout the arena floor, disrupting visibility and forcing Atticus to constantly reposition himself.
For the first time since the battle began, Edran saw the noble giving ground rather than pressing forward. Yet Atticus wasn't retreating.
He was searching, waiting, using every cloud of dust as cover to disappear from view for a split second before reappearing somewhere else.
As another explosion of sand rose into the air, Edran narrowed his eyes.
Through the dust, he caught sight of a flash of lightning.
Atticus circled around, and emerged from behind Rayne with his sword moving to strike from the blind spot created by the dust.
But in the end, it was all for nothing.
The moment Atticus emerged from the dust cloud and struck from behind, Rayne turned just in time. His sword rose and intercepted the attack before it could land.
Death and lightning aspected mana collided violently.
A burst of gold and black energy exploded between them as both aspects pushed against one another. Neither gave way. For a brief moment, the two young men remained locked together before Atticus disengaged and jumped backward.
The crowd immediately erupted into cheers.
The noise rolled through the arena like thunder. Even around Edran, conversations broke out amongst the lower nobles seated nearby. Several of them had clearly expected the battle to end with that attack, and now they were hurriedly discussing what they had just witnessed.
More than once, Edran heard whispers about betting odds changing.
Apparently, people were already running between betting halls to place new wagers.
For a brief moment, he found himself wondering if he should put a few gold coins on Rayne as well.
The thought barely had time to form before he suddenly felt a hand land on his shoulder.
Edran froze.
Immediately turning around, he found himself staring at the last person he had expected to see today.
Third Prince Caelan stood behind him.
The prince wore a small smile as though his presence in the lower noble stands was perfectly normal. Before Edran could even rise from his seat, Caelan pointed toward the empty chair beside him.
“May I take a seat, Captain Edran?”
Edran’s mind went blank for a second before he nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”
The prince thanked him with a slight nod before sitting down. Almost instantly, nearby conversations died.
More than a few nobles glanced in their direction. Others openly stared.
Caelan ignored all of them.
Instead, his attention moved directly toward the arena below.
At some point during the distraction, Atticus had created distance again. Bolts of lightning flew from his blade one after another, striking the arena walls hard enough to leave visible cracks behind. Rayne continued moving through the attacks, avoiding each of them as he steadily advanced.
The prince watched for several moments before speaking. “He's pretty impressive.” Edran glanced toward him. “You trained him well.”
“I didn't do much,” Edran replied honestly. “Rayne simply has a knack for getting himself into dangerous situations and somehow getting out of them alive. The gods naturally favour the brave.”
Caelan smiled at that. “I think the same.” His gaze remained on the battle. For several seconds, neither man spoke. Then the prince continued. “So, do you think he will win?”
This time Edran hesitated.
The question sounded simple, but nothing involving princes was ever simple.
Every conversation could be a test. Every answer could reveal more than intended. Yet after a moment, he realized the truth was straightforward.
“Yes,” he said. “I do think he will win.”
The smile on Caelan's face widened slightly. “Good.”
“Good, Your Highness?”
The prince nodded. “Yes, because that makes this much easier.” He finally looked away from the arena and turned toward Edran. “Do you want to make a bet with me?”
Edran blinked. “A bet?”
“Yes, a bet.” Caelan leaned back in his seat. “After all, confidence means very little unless you're willing to put gold behind it.”
The prince gestured toward the arena where Rayne and Atticus were once again rushing toward each other.
“So what do you say, Captain Edran? Will you place a wager that your soldiers can defeat my brother's royal guards?”
***
Rayne felt like his mind was going to crack apart from the middle.
Ever since the battle had started, he had kept [War Pulse] active and the amount of information entering his head every second was enough to give him the worst headache of his life.
Every movement of Atticus, every shift of mana, every vibration through the sand entered his awareness at once, and without the skill, Rayne honestly doubted he would have lasted more than a few exchanges without getting injured.
The man was simply too fast. Even when Rayne could physically see him moving, it felt as if his body was always a step behind. By the time he processed where Atticus was going, another attack would already be coming, and only [War Pulse] allowed him to bridge that gap.
It also didn't help that Atticus was becoming increasingly aggressive.
The noble had clearly expected this battle to end almost immediately and every second that passed without Rayne collapsing seemed to make him angrier.
Lightning crackled around his blade as he swung again and again, arcs of electricity tearing through the sand floor with enough force to scorch it black wherever they landed. Rayne moved left, then right, then threw himself into a roll as another attack passed over his head because there was simply no way he was going to block those attacks with his shield.
Parts of it were already blackened from the earlier exchanges and that was when Atticus had still not been taking him seriously. Now the man was putting far more mana behind every attack and if the shield broke, Rayne would have no choice but to rely entirely on [Weaver's Protection] to survive.
And he wasn't ready for that yet.
He still had another use planned for the skill. The problem was getting close enough to use it.
Every step forward felt like a battle of its own as lightning exploded around them, but Rayne still pushed ahead bit by bit, refusing to give ground.
Then Atticus swung once more and shouted, "Just give up, you bastard. You can't keep this up."
Rayne ducked beneath the incoming arc and immediately rushed forward, thinking he had finally found an opening, but instead of creating another blade of lightning, Atticus slammed his sword into the sand.
Mana exploded outward at once and a wave of lightning erupted through the arena floor itself, tearing apart the ground as it rushed directly toward him.
The moment Rayne saw it, he knew there was no chance of dodging. Death mana flooded his blade and he swung with everything he had.
Black energy collided against golden lightning and the resulting explosion blasted sand in every direction before throwing him off his feet completely.
Pain immediately lanced through his back as he hit the ground. Residual electricity crawled across his armour and into his muscles, making parts of his body twitch involuntarily, but before he could even think about standing up, [War Pulse] screamed a warning into his mind.
Atticus was already coming from the right.
Rayne rolled across the sand just as the blade crashed down where he had been lying a moment earlier.
The attack missed, but Atticus didn't stop. He stepped forward immediately, lightning coursing around his sword as he prepared another strike, his face twisted with frustration and fury, probably unable to understand why the battle was still going on.
Yet for Rayne, that frustration was exactly what he had been relying on.
Even as he continued rolling through the sand, threads of [Weaver's Protection] slipped down his arms and moved forward.
The skill was difficult to control at a distance, but he didn't need it to do a lot. So with every bit of concentration he could spare, Rayne wrapped the mana threads around Atticus's legs.
The noble took another step, then stumbled.
Confusion immediately flashed across his face as his feet tangled beneath him. He tried to recover, but the movement came too suddenly and a second later he crashed into the sand, not even realizing what had happened.
Rayne didn't hesitate.
The moment he saw the opening, he pushed himself off the ground, surged forward with everything he had left and slammed his shield directly into the side of the man's helmet.