Chapter 235 — Tournament Starts II

Neither Damian nor Adrian were entering the arena.

Instead, five unfamiliar first-years walked forward:

Ariana Sterling - black hair with katana strapped to her back.

Edrin Kael - twin swords at his hips, as his eyes analysed the opponents.

Lysa Morwen - brown hair pulled back, no physical bow visible, Aura already forming into arrow shapes around her hands.

Ronan Hale - massive frame, no weapons, fists already clenched, wearing a grin that promised violence.

Zavier Wells - spear held loosely, face completely expressionless, eyes holding something cold and empty that made even spectators uncomfortable.

All of them looked different than typical first-years. They looked mature and cold. Like they’d seen things that aged souls faster than bodies.

Noah’s voice carried shock.

"WAIT! WHAT’S HAPPENING?! STORMHOLD ACADEMY IS NOT FIELDING VICE PRESIDENT DAMIAN VALCOR FOR THE FIRST MATCH!"

Sarah’s voice joined his confusion.

"These are all Unknown students! Why would they hold back their strongest fighter in the opening match itself?!"

The other teams – walking toward their respective arenas – looked back at Stormhold with skepticism mixed with concern.

’Are they that confident? Or that stupid?’

But Damian just stood outside Arena One with his hands in his pockets, completely calm, his crimson eyes behind the glasses looking at his Mafia members.

****

[Tranquil City - A Luxurious Restaurant - Private Viewing Room]

The families had gathered in this establishment – the largest holographic screen in Tranquil City showing all five arenas simultaneously, food and drinks prepared but mostly ignored.

Gerard sat with his wife Mira, his massive frame making the furniture look fragile. Their son Ronan was visible on screen, entering the arena with complete confidence.

Takeshi and Yuki Sterling sat with perfect posture, their daughter Ariana moving with grace they recognized from years of training. Their younger daughter Sakura sat between them, her eyes locked on Damian’s figure outside the arena.

Lysa’s parents – Donald and Elaine Morwen, brown hair and eyes matching their daughter’s, middle-class commoners wearing their best clothes – held hands tightly, worry obvious on their faces.

Edrin’s father sat alone, separated slightly from the others, a beer already in his hand despite the early hour.

James Kael was a weathered man in his forties with handsome features worn down by something that had killed the light in his eyes.

It seemed as if something tragic had happened in his past that he’d never discussed with the people present.

And at a separate table – because their status demanded it – sat members of the main Mafia organization. Mike talking with others, Robert Wells serving food and Alessio observing everything with calm eyes.

Gerard’s voice boomed across the room.

"Why isn’t that Monster fighting?! He should be in there showing those Academy brats what real combat looks like!"

SMACK!

Mira’s hand connected with the back of his head, the sound loud enough to make others jump.

"How many times have I told you – don’t call Damian a monster! He’s been nothing but good to our son!"

Gerard rubbed his head sheepishly.

"But he is indeed a monster! I’ve seen what he can do! The way he killed–"

Donald Morwen – Lysa’s father – looked confused.

"Why does everyone keep saying he’s a monster? He seems like a good kid. He helped all our families settle in this top city."

Takeshi answered, his voice measured.

"It’s not that he’s a monster in a bad way. He saved all of us. Protected our families when Noble forces came hunting. It’s just... he’s a bit extreme in his methods."

Yuki added quietly, "We’re grateful. But also... aware of what he’s capable of. It is our respect for his strength that makes us address him as a monster."

"..."

Silence fell for a moment, everyone processing that.

James Kael spoke for the first time, his voice rough from disuse.

"The kid’s dangerous, but he is a friend of our kids. That’s all that matters."

He took a long drink.

The families turned back to the screen, watching their children stand in the arena – all C- rank first-years about to fight B+ rank fourth-years.

Mira voiced what they were all thinking.

"They’re so young and so outmatched. Why isn’t Damian fighting with them?"

Nobody had an answer.

****

[Arena One - Outside the Barrier]

Damian stood with his hands in his pockets, completely still, his dark glasses reflecting the arena lights.

Adrian waved enthusiastically at the crowd, his beautiful face drawing shrieks from female spectators, his silly grin completely at odds with the serious atmosphere.

"ADRIAN! WE LOVE YOU!"

"MARRY ME!"

He blew kisses back, clearly enjoying himself.

After several moments of this, his expression shifted, becoming more serious as he looked at Damian.

"Are you sure about this?"

His voice was quiet enough that only Damian could hear over the crowd noise.

"Letting them fight without you, I mean. If they lose, we’re out on the first day. Eliminated immediately. All the reputation and funding of the Academy, just... gone."

Damian didn’t turn to look at him.

But after several long seconds, he spoke, his voice carrying that same calm certainty that had defined him since the beginning.

"When we first talked at the start of the year, you told me something. About how even after two centuries, no commoners have risen to replace the Noble families. That was why Nobles had their arrogance. Because history proved them right."

Victoria and Fiona approached, drawn by the conversation. Elizabeth and Seraphina also joined them, all four standing nearby, listening despite their worry.

They all looked at Damian, waiting for him to continue, wondering how he could be so calm when everything hung in the balance.

Damian’s voice became quieter but more intense.

"I’ve realized the common problem in this world. It’s not about talent. Not about skills or weapon arts or resources. Those things matter, yes. But they’re not the core issue."

He paused, and in that silence, fifty thousand people continued screaming, completely unaware of the philosophical discussion happening at the edge of Arena One.

"The problem is mentality. The illusion that’s been cast over commoners for generations. That they can never be above Nobles. That they’re inherently inferior. That they should be grateful for scraps from the table rather than demanding seats."

His hands shifted slightly in his pockets, the only physical tell that he was thinking deeply.

"If I fight the first battle and make us win, people will only think: ’Oh, Stormhold won because Damian is a genius. He’s an exception. He’s not like us.’ They’ll admire me but not see themselves in me."

Elizabeth found herself nodding slightly, understanding where he was going.

"But if five unknown commoners – with such a massive difference in age and rank – fight against established fourth-year Nobles and win?"

Damian’s voice became harder and more purposeful.

"The whole world watching will start seeing something different. They’ll see that Nobles aren’t superior. Just privileged. They’ll see that commoners can compete, can win and can excel when given the same opportunities."

He finally turned slightly, just enough to make eye contact with Adrian.

"I don’t want to win this tournament. I want to crush the mentality of the commoners."

"..."

Silence fell over their small group despite the roaring crowd around them.