Riven dusted his clothes, shifting his gaze away from Draven''s crumpled form. A swirl of emotions churned within him, his chest tightening with a mix of frustration and pity. Why do they keep sending dim-souled, untrained fighters against me? It''s not fair for them. They should''ve fought opponents closer to their level, ones who might give them a real chance.


    He clenched his fists as bitterness welled up inside. This world... where power makes right. Where strength is the only law. A deep breath steadied him, and he forced the tension from his hands. Slowly, he turned toward the roaring crowd, their cheers washing over him like a wave of hollow praise. He tried to smile but knew it didn''t reach his eyes.


    Tilting his head upward, his gaze landed on the towering figure of Corvax, the massive bird-like beast that his parents rode. There they were, perched high above the arena. He averted his eyes before they could land on the nobles viewing boxes, unwilling to confront the noble families seated alongside them. Instead, he turned away, retreating toward the back rooms where he could finally breathe.


    The stone corridor leading away from the arena was dimly lit, the echoes of his footsteps muffled by the noise behind him. Just as he passed one of the archways, a familiar figure stepped into view. A young woman with fiery red hair flowing over her chest and shoulders, she greeted him with a bright smile. Her light leather armor clung to her muscular frame, and steel pauldrons gleamed under the flickering torchlight. Her presence, commanding and bold, made Riven stop mid-step.


    "Well, not bad," said Lira Nova, her tone teasing yet firm. "But don''t think our fight will be that easy. I won''t hold back."


    Riven blinked, caught off guard. He shifted slightly, straightening his posture. His confusion must have been evident because Lira smirked, reaching for something at her waist. She pulled out a small badge, letting the light glint off its surface.


    "See? You''re up against me in round three," she said, her voice brimming with confidence. "Don''t disappoint me, okay?"


    With that, she turned sharply and walked away, her leather boots clicking against the stone floor. Riven stood frozen for a moment, watching her retreating form. Good to know she hasn''t changed a bit, he thought. Still the same battle-crazed, energetic self.


    It had been a few months since their last spar. He remembered her as relentless, always pushing him to use more and more mana every time they fought. Maybe this fight will be fun. But his confidence wavered. Then again, knowing her, I shouldn''t get my hopes too high.


    The sound of approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. Jayce emerged from the archway, sweat glistening on his brow, his spear strapped securely to his back. The sight of him brought a measure of relief.


    "Good fights out there," Jayce said, his tone light as he rubbed his hands together. "I''ve got Sylvia Frostveil next. Finally, someone I can go all out against."


    Riven chuckled. "Yeah, she''s probably the strongest of you all. She''s from the main Frostveil family, after all."


    Jayce laughed, his grin widening. "Oh, you don''t know, do you?" He clapped a hand on Riven''s shoulder. "We''ve all been holding back in our spars with you—hiding our strengths from each other. Don''t assume you''ve already won."


    Riven shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint smile. We will find out soon enough.


    Jayce shook his head, chuckling to himself as he walked toward the cluster of nobles gathered in the corner. Riven, not wanting to join them, turned back to his usual spot in the resting area. His expression darkened. None of my childhood friends have even bothered to say hi since the start of the tournament. The thought stung more than he cared to admit. So much for camaraderie.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The hunter''s voice rang out, summoning him back to the arena. Riven took a steadying breath before stepping into the sunlight. The field stretched before him, the packed dirt gleaming under the afternoon sun. Across from him stood Lira, her greatsword resting on her shoulder. She gripped the hilt with both hands, her stance solid and confident. Her fiery red hair glowed like embers, and a faint smirk played on her lips.


    Riven widened his stance, his body instinctively shifting into a combat-ready position. The referee raised his hand, signaling the start of the match.


    In a blur of motion, Lira closed the distance between them, her sword radiating an intense heat. Riven''s eyes widened as he called forth his pink mana, coating his body in its protective glow. He darted to the side, narrowly avoiding her swing. A sharp, burning sting shot through his chest. He glanced down, spotting a shallow cut across his torso.


    What the hell? His thoughts raced. Is she using a relic? Or has she already bonded with a beast?


    Lira''s smirk deepened as she caught his confused expression. She pressed forward, her greatsword leaving faint trails of shimmering heat in the air. Riven gritted his teeth, pouring more mana into his body. The protective aura around him flared as he moved to counter her next strike.


    Their clash was a flurry of motion—her strikes brutal and precise, his dodges sharp and calculated, but it was hard to count for the ranged super heated air attacks she unleashed with every swing. The heat from her blade became oppressive, each swing forcing him to burn more of his mana just to stay ahead.


    She can heat the air with her mana? Is that even possible? The thought rattled him. No matter. I just need to get close and land a decisive blow.


    Focusing his energy, Riven funneled fifty percent of his mana into his body—a risky move, but necessary. His movements became a blur, his speed unmatched as he surged toward Lira. Her eyes narrowed as she adjusted her stance, pouring her remaining energy into her blade. The greatsword glowed a molten orange, the air around it rippling like a mirage.


    Lira swung with all her might, unleashing a wave of compressed, superheated air. The force of it barreled toward Riven, who braced himself. He solidified his mana, creating a shield that absorbed most of the heat. Steam rose from his clothes, his hair, and even his skin. The protective barrier around him flickered and dissipated, leaving him with half his reserves.


    He staggered but held his ground. The shock on Lira''s face told him all he needed to know—she was nearly spent. Summoning the last of his strength, he surged forward.


    Lira tried to retreat, but Riven was too fast. His palm struck her liver with precision, forcing her to drop the greatsword as she staggered sideways.


    Unwilling to give her a moment to recover, Riven pursued. Lira, through sheer determination, managed to grip her weapon again. She swung wildly, the blade cutting through the air in a desperate horizontal arc.


    Remember what Father taught you. Riven dropped low, his hands brushing the dirt as he twisted his body. He launched himself forward in a corkscrew motion, narrowly dodging the blade. His boots connected with Lira''s face, the force sending her sprawling across the ground. Her greatsword clattered to the dirt a few meters away.


    Before Riven could check on her, a lion-like beast wreathed in flames appeared on the field. Its mane blazed brightly, the heat radiating from its body almost unbearable. It padded over to Lira, gently gripping her coat in its jaws. With a powerful leap, the beast carried her toward one of the viewing boxes.


    The referee stepped forward, clearing his throat. "The winner: Riven Stormbrand!"


    The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices a deafening roar. Riven barely acknowledged them, his thoughts swirling. What was that technique she used?


    He gave a brief wave toward his family before exiting the arena, his mind racing with questions.


    Inside the waiting area, Jayce was adjusting his armor straps, his spear resting against the wall beside him. Riven hesitated before speaking, the adrenaline from his fight still coursing through him.


    "You were right—that was tough. Good luck with yours."


    Jayce turned, grinning. "Told you. Might see you in the semifinals."


    Sylvia entered from the opposite side, her expression cool and composed also reflecting in her silver eyes and hair. The two fighters exchanged brief nods before heading toward their respective entrances.


    Riven sighed, slumping onto a bench. If their skills are anything like Lira''s, getting first place won''t be easy. He rubbed his temples, exhaustion beginning to set in. If Lira''s soul rank was the same as mine, I would''ve lost.


    As the noise from the arena outside grew louder, Riven closed his eyes, trying to piece together how he could improve before his next fight.