CHAPTER 126

  THE FATED BATTLE

  The Colosseum hadn’t seen quiet in weeks.

  Every day, the sun rose to the sound of steel colliding and spirits breaking. Every night, it set on blood-slicked sand and names carved into the granite walls—names that rose, and names already erased.

  Knights climbed.

  And knights fell.

  Hans had failed to notice before: the Parvians had dominated the battle royale from the start. Scoring high ranks climbing higher and higher. Chris wasn’t far behind, chasing them. Maybe it was his roots blossoming.

  He may have been raised in Clandor, but his blood was Parvian.

  From a temporary Rank 668 to Rank 121, an impossible climb even for prodigies. His path was lightning-burnt and riddled with discarded weapons. No grand declarations. No mercy. Just victories—dozens of them.

  He had earned his place among the high climbers of Parvians.

  And yet, Hans hadn't fought a single match.

  Not publicly, anyway.

  “Still waiting?” Aadya asked, sitting cross-legged beside him in the viewing chamber, sipping something far too expensive for mortals.

  She showed him the expensive cup. “Well, you have a knack for earning coins—in just two months. We have come from common bystanders in the staircase below to now a private viewing room.”

  “Maybe I’m using my luck where I shouldn’t be.” He paused realising he might’ve said something true in jest. Shaking the thoughts he mumbled, “I need all hands on deck for my battle with Dijkstra.”

  Aadya asked, almost urging. “You want to run away—”

  “Then what of Eclipse—”

  “I thought you knew nothing about it.” She teased.

  “Tsk! Whatever.” Hans looked at the almost transparent body of Aadya. He had thought if something haywire happened, he could use this goddess to course-correct, but it seemed his backup was fading.

  “How long could you hold up?” He asked.

  “Maybe not even till your duel. It’s no shame in running, Hans. You are not a Parvian looking like this—”

  “No, I must be the victor of this opportunity.” He resolved, didn’t answer further.

  His eyes were on the arena below, watching the Rank 87 match wrap up. A knight from Clandor—tall, brutish, built like a castle wall—was pummelling his opponent into unconsciousness with raw aura. Not elegant. Not smart. But effective.

  Suddenly, a knock interrupted his viewing.

  “Your summons are here, sir.” A lady with elegant clothing reached out to him. Handing a roll of sealed parchment.

  Knight Association Bulletin – Match Schedule

  Theodred Atelier vs. Dijkstra, The Sad Death – Rank 10

  Date: 7 Days from Now

  Venue: Central Arena – Blood Petal Ground

  Rules: Unrestricted Duel

  Wager: Rank and life.

  Approval: Chairman Kansas | High Priests of Indu

  In the private halls beneath the Colosseum, where candidates prepared and healed, Hans walked the polished corridors, calm with every step.

  Banners of fallen champions hung like ghosts—bleached by time, frayed by battle. Some bore his family’s crest. Most didn’t.

  Elsewhere in the Arena — Training Fields

  Chris stood under artificial lightning, the field pulsing with manufactured storms designed to test aura resonance. His body steamed with sweat. Cuts lined his arms, but none of them bled long.

  He had been pushing himself far past the point of strategy.

  A shadow moved beside him. He didn’t turn.

  “It’s scheduled, huh?” Chris said. “The match with Dijkstra.”

  Hans nodded, surprised when his friend sensed his presence. All he wanted was to just look around at how he was doing. Not making any small talk like this.

  Stepping up beside him, he answered, “A week from now.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Chris's eyes flashed with a streak of internal storm. “Are you any more confident?”

  “No,” Hans admitted. “But I’ve a plan to make it work.”

  A long silence followed. Then, Chris spoke, his voice distant. “Damn it I wish he had a comm-orb on him.” He mumbled then clear. “I tried contacting Hans, but couldn’t reach him. If he willed, he could’ve stopped this madness. You do know Dijkstra isn’t fighting for rank—

  “Me neither, Chris,” Hans left, patting his shoulders, and for the first time, Chris saw a gleam of sinister behind Theodred’s eyes.

  For a minute, he remained silent, and when he got his senses back, Theodred had disappeared.

  Arena Archive Room — Hans had found a secluded corner; this was the only place which wasn’t being monitored. He pulled the Eclipse medallion. “Come in, Adrian—”

  “It looks like you are finally willing to step into the adult’s world.” A voice responded from the medallion. “Come out of Indu—”

  “No, you want me. You have to come here—to the knight convention.”

  “You are not at the level where I should risk stepping where the world’s deadliest Knights are partying.”

  “What if I beat Dijkstra—will I be at the level where you should risk stepping in where the Men-child are playing knights?” Hans gave some time to let his words settle, then added, “I don’t want to be the one in low hierarchy in your bandit group—I want the high seat.”

  “Quite cocky—but I like it. I’ll be there with the whole bandit group.”

  Adrian cut the line.

  “So, what do you plan on doing with Eclipse?” Aadya came to him with cautious steps.

  “Tell me this—” Hans asked, “if they are stepping in Knight convention. They’ll come in full force, right? Xandor included—my undead father too—”

  “That’s why you brought me here, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Hans almost pleaded, “I want to talk to him, even if it’s undead. Can you make him speak in sense for a bit? I’m not asking much—just to hear him out.”

  Aadya closed in, hugging him hard. “You still haven’t let go. That was his story—you shouldn’t let it affect yours.”

  Hans remained silent as Aadya’s soft hands rubbed his head. “It’s not something I could let go—I feel if I won’t hear his side from his own mouth, I couldn’t.”

  “I can’t promise you this. But if I can sustain till you call them, I’ll give you an audience with Samson. But it won’t be much any different from what I told you.”

  “Still.” Hans pushed her gently. “It will mean much more than anything.”

  Seven Days Later – Just Before the Duel

  “Look at him.” Hans said, proud looking at his first knight. “He reached rank 67 from triple digits.”

  “I guess it’s over for your friend—he can’t go further—at least not until he actually becomes a dominion knight.” Aadya added. “The young knights from Parv have similar ranks. All fifty and later are dominated by Parv—Arat must be jumping in his private room.”

  Meanwhile, Hans was looking elsewhere; for the past two months, many had turned from paupers to princes and vice versa. The man who registered him in the booth was looking at his private room with anticipation.

  Before dawn, an hour, and the betting started. Naturally, majority betted on the Sad death. But Hans had wagered his whole wealth he had accumulated on himself. And that was a lot. Giving many people a hope to turn the luck around.

  He looked at the opened letter beside the table. A few hours ago, Bernard had reached him, suggesting he escort out of this nation safely.

  Of course, Hans denied. But neither he tried reaching Reina nor did she.

  Breaking his thoughts, Aadya chimed in. “The traitor also reached rank 13 from sixteen.”

  “Yeah, I guess, having his rank stolen by Zephyr of Blood Monks, his knightly competitiveness woke up.” Hans stood, exhaling hard. “Let’s just forget everything and beat the shit out of Dijkstra.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Fuck no.” Hans slowly turned, his eyes widen. “How did you find me, Dijkstra?”

  “No, Ser?” Dijkstra showed a puzzled face. “You were quite a respectful lad the last time—”

  “I didn’t know I was on the hit list of the Sad Death. How did you find me— I thought having private rooms guaranteed anonymity—”

  “Yes, it did, so I just ransacked everyone of it till I found you.” His smile was as wide as River Jayden. He added, with a hint of killing intent, “Don’t worry much. You are just going to die today.”

  “Who me? That’s quite the delusion you have, Dijkstra, the Sad Death.” Hans showed his now malicious side, the one which Hans wore. “It’s not me but you.” He stressed, lacing his words with poison. “You are going to lose your rank today or maybe much more.”

  But it was not what Theodred said that bothered him but the constant stare his partner was giving him. It was not as threatening but concerning. He stared at her for a long time before waving his final goodbye to Theodred.

  Everyone knew Theodred was accompanied by a female, but no matter how much they tried, even Clandor and Parv failed to find out who she was. The only reason Dijkstra went on his mad search was to find out whether killing Theodred would bring unnecessary consequences, but it looked to him that he was worrying over nothing.

  He could sense the girl’s power dimming down. Whoever she was, she was dying.

  Hans kept staring at the door where Dijkstra exited.

  “Okay, that’s my cue, too.”

  “So you are not staying behind?” Hans looked at her, flashing from transparent to partial. “I guess that’s it then.”

  “I thought you’d be angry.” Said Aadya.

  “Since when do my plans work flawlessly?” He smiled, accepting, maybe a part of him didn’t want to hear the truth. So he was somewhat relieved.

  The lady turned around, like a child. With all the affection left in her, she said, slightly tilting her head, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For this.” She took Monoceros. From his polymorphic Knapbinder. “I’ll raise this little thing well—”

  “That is not little—”

  She interrupted, serious this time. “Just transform back if you think it’s hard.”

  “That’s not an option. I don’t want her to know, that I know.”

  “Don’t die then. I can’t come to save you this time.”

  “Don’t you worry. I’ve a perfect escape ready.”

  Aadya came near him and with a swiftness, she kissed him on the cheeks. “Good luck.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t cursing me?”

  “That’s a goddess’s level luck. Beat him all up.” She faded right away. And the Colosseum thrummed with unnatural cheers. The Knight convention had already entered the top ten ranks in matches. Yesterday, Dijkstra showed why he was called Sad Death when he crushed bones and hope alike of Zephyr, and now Clandor’s hope, the prophetic child, was next in line.