The large Kaelthorn family carriage rattled along the rocky road, escorted by several fully armed guards. I sat in the back seat, directly across from Leonel. Throughout the journey, his face was calm, his eyes closed as if regulating his breathing.
For me, this journey felt ominous. I knew full well what lay ahead. The Noble Youth Tournament wasn't just a talent showcase. It was a stage where a family's reputation could be elevated to the heavens… or plummet to the depths.
"Young Master," I whispered carefully. "Are you truly ready?"
Leonel opened his eyes and looked at me. His smile was thin but firm. "I didn't come here to lose, Rian."
His answer made my chest feel hot, whether from admiration or fear.
After two days of travel, the royal capital finally came into view. White stone towers soared, royal flags fluttered at every corner. The main street was crowded with throngs of young nobles and their guards.
I couldn't stop looking left and right. From the passing entourages, it was clear who his opponents in the tournament would be.
There was a group from the north, nobles in thick fur uniforms, their swords wide like axes. From the south came dark-skinned youths in light robes carrying curved staves—clearly fire circle mages. From the west, a group of slender fighters with green sashes, their movements like forest shadows.
"Rian." Leonel's voice called me back to reality. "Don't be too mesmerized. Remember, any one of them could be my opponent tomorrow."
I swallowed hard and nodded.
The registration day took place in the palace's grand hall. Sixty-four participants gathered, each standing with full confidence.
One of the tournament overseers, a silver-armored royal knight, read the rules in a loud voice.
"This tournament will last five days. On the first day, the 64 participants will be randomly paired. On the second day, the remaining 32. On the third day, 16. On the fourth day, 8. On the fifth day, the semi-finals and finals."
"A match ends only if one participant surrenders, cannot continue, or is deemed in danger by the judges. There are no duels to the death, but serious injuries will not be stopped unless the situation is critical."
Cheers erupted from some of the young nobles, clearly excited.
I glanced at Leonel. He remained silent, his eyes sharply observing the potential opponents.
Among the crowd, I noticed a few faces that stood out.
A silver-haired girl from the north, her eyes as blue and cold as ice. As she passed, a genuinely cold aura was palpable, making my hair stand on end. "That's… the Frostbane family heir," whispered one of the guards.
From another direction, a young man with flaming red hair and a black robe walked arrogantly. His gaze was full of fire, and the staff on his back vibrated faintly. "Kael of the Ignaros family," said a judge. "The fire circle heir."
Then there was a young man with golden-brown skin, carrying two curved daggers at his waist. His movements were light, like a desert wind. I barely noticed him as he passed. "That's from the Sandveil family," remarked an admiring spectator.
But the most surprising was a young man who looked utterly ordinary, with dull brown hair and no conspicuous emblem. But his gaze… was sharp, piercing, as if he could see into people's hearts. I noticed Leonel staring back at this young man longer than the others.
"Who is he?" I whispered.
Leonel gave a faint smile. "Someone interesting."
After the announcements concluded, the name draw commenced. A large crystal ball spun, revealing the first to the last pairings.
"Opening match: Leonel Kaelthorn versus Kael Ignaros."
The hall immediately erupted. Many cheered, many others laughed mockingly.
"Kaelthorn trash against the fire heir? A short match, for sure."
"Hahaha, he'll be burned to a crisp before he even gets a chance to shine."
I froze. The very first match… against one of the strongest families.
I turned to Leonel in a panic. But he… actually smiled, as if this was what he had been waiting for.
"A tournament only gets interesting when it starts with a blaze of fire," he said softly.
I could only bow my head, clutching the cloth tightly.
The night before the tournament, I helped Leonel prepare his uniform and sword. The atmosphere in the family's guest room was quiet.
"Young Master… Are you really not afraid?" My voice was barely a whisper.
He turned and looked at me with calm eyes. "Fear is normal. But if we let fear take control, we've already lost before the fight even begins."
I fell silent, then nodded slowly. "I… I will believe in the Young Master."
His smile this time was more sincere. "That is enough, Rian."
Morning arrived. The tournament arena was packed with spectators. Nobles, wealthy merchants, even royal envoys sat in the stands. Cheers echoed, family flags fluttered.
I stood at the edge of the arena, my heart pounding. Leonel stepped in, his black uniform fluttering in the wind, the sword in his hand reflecting the sunlight.
On the other side, Kael Ignaros entered with an aura of fire blazing around him. Cheers immediately erupted.
Two young heirs, standing in the center of the grand stage.
And as the large bell tolled, the first match began.