Chapter 58: Tournament
A young girl sat on the edge of a weathered stone wall, her legs dangling freely over the drop. Peach-colored hair swayed with the breeze, catching sunlight like strands of soft fire. Around her, motes of yellow light shimmered, bending to her will as she flicked her hand. They sparkled briefly before dispersing, a reflection of the mana she now commanded.
Yellow Stage.
Aeris had reached it—a feat most failed to achieve even after decades of training. Yet the small crease in her brow betrayed the doubt pressing at her thoughts.
Today was no ordinary day. This was the last round of the tournament—the final match. A battle that would decide whether the King’s armies marched to Ashenhold to stand beside Edward, or whether he would be left alone to face the Crimson Oath... and almost certainly die.
Her opponent was also of the Yellow Stage. But unlike her bright, steady glow, his aura burned a pale, almost white glow. A level that only a handful of living warriors had ever touched.
Aeris sighed, rising to her feet. Her armour shimmered in the sunlight, polished steel hugging her form. Behind her came soft footsteps. She turned and found Seraphine waiting, hands clasped, worry masked behind a fragile smile.
"Aeris..." Seraphine’s voice wavered, a mix of pride and helplessness. She hated the weight placed on Aeris’s shoulders. Hated that all of Edward’s fate—and perhaps the town’s—rested on her. But still, she smiled. "It’s time."
Aeris gave a single nod.
The two walked through the capital side by side. The streets buzzed with whispers as they passed. Heads turned, voices hushed. Aeris’s last battle—her victory over one of the king’s own royal guards—had made her a name that even the common folk now recognised. Some bowed their heads as she passed. Others only stared, eyes wide with the awe reserved for legends in the making.
Soon, the gates of the grand coliseum rose before them. Armoured guards recognised her instantly, stepping aside without question.
At the threshold, Aeris paused. Seraphine touched her arm, forcing brightness into her voice.
"Good luck!"
Aeris only nodded, stepping alone into the belly of the arena.
The final match was accompanied by a ceremony unlike the previous rounds. Thousands filled the stands, their cheers a thunderous wall. At the centre, a small podium rose, where the announcer’s voice boomed across the coliseum. Each finalist was called, their names rolled across the crowd like a battle hymn.
Aeris closed her eyes, shutting it all out. She gripped her rapier tightly, pulling mana into every fibre of her being. The Yellow Stage thrummed inside her veins, exhilarating and strange, still unfamiliar. She steadied her breath, waiting for the call.
The horn split the air.
Her eyes snapped open, and the opponent was already moving toward her.
A single-edged blade lunged toward her chest, but Aeris sidestepped, moving like a blur. Reaching the Yellow Stage increased her speed significantly, almost doubling what she had been capable of before. Still, her opponent matched her, nearly as fast.
Steel clashed. Sparks danced into the sky as she parried, countering with a thrust. Her rapier’s tip scraped the edge of his armour before he spun back.
Before she could press forward, his hand shot outward. A ball of fire erupted from his palm.
Aeris leapt, body twisting in midair as the fireball exploded beneath her, scattering shards of stone. He met her leap with his blade, steel colliding midair. The impact sent her stumbling backwards, boots dragging against the stone floor.
The crowd roared. Her opponent smiled, arrogance flashing in his eyes. "Don’t slow down now. Let’s give them a—"
He never finished. Aeris was already in motion.
Wind surged at her heels, propelling her forward at lightning speed. His eyes widened—too slow to react. Her rapier tore into his shoulder, blood spraying in a crimson arc.
He staggered back, skidding across the floor, a trail of red following him. The crowd erupted, standing to their feet. For the first time in two tournaments, the reigning champion bled.
"What’s wrong?" Aeris asked, her voice steady, her rapier raised. "Should I slow down a bit?"
His grip tightened until his knuckles whitened. With a growl, he lunged. Fury fueled his strikes, each swing wild, reckless. Aeris deflected, sidestepping cleanly, leaving shallow wounds across his abdomen with precision thrusts. Cut after cut, she carved him down.
Still, he fought on.
Then, with a painful groan, he sacrificed his stance, he opened himself up, and Aeris did not waste the chance, thrusting her rapier deep into his leg. But at that moment, the man’s hand raised, sending a wave of fire from his free hand.
She moved with a deadly grace. The flames grazed past her face, swirling around her as if caught in her orbit. With a flick of her blade, she turned the fire back.
The wave slammed into him. Flame consumed exposed skin, searing his flesh, blackening his armour. The champion swayed but did not fall to the ground. His chest heaved, sweat and blood mingling down his body.
Aeris’ eyes softened, pity in her expression. That look cut deeper than any blade.
With a roar, he lunged in a final, desperate strike.
Aeris met him head-on. Their blades clashed with a sound that split the air, a burst of power that rattled the coliseum walls.
Then a heavy silence followed. Gasps split the crowd as the two fighters passed each other in a blur of movement.
The man faltered. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, blood dripping from his wounds.
The arena exploded in cheers.
"And the winner is... Aeris of—"
But the words faded. Aeris’ gaze dropped to her abdomen. Her armour had split open, torn by the champion’s last desperate strike. Blood poured down, soaking the arena floor.
She staggered, then dropped to one knee. Her vision blurred, the crowd and banners swimming together in a haze.
Through it all, she saw Seraphine racing toward her, panic breaking across her face.
Aeris’ lips curved, a faint shadow of a smile. Not of despair—but of pride.
She had won.
Then her body fell, and darkness claimed her.