Riven watched Ziren fight the blonde-haired girl.
She wielded a sleek, gold-inlaid staff — refined, polished, clearly expensive. Most definetely an artifact weapon as well.
Her movements were fluid and forceful, each strike practiced and tight. Not overwhelming, but clearly trained. Unlike his opponent, she clearly knew how to use her weapons properly.
Ziren, on the other hand, didn't seem to be fighting at all.
No weapons. No attacks.
Just dodging.
He moved like he had no real intent to win. Every time he reached for her pearl necklace, it was too slow — clumsy, almost hesitant. The girl capitalized on it easily. A quick sweep to his ankle. A clean jab to the shoulder. A spin of the staff toward his knees, forcing him to jump back.
It looked like he was being outmatched.
But something felt… off.
Riven frowned.
That couldn't be right.
He hadn't seen Ziren fight before — but he knew about some of his accomplishments. Two confirmed kills on Lesser Ferals during the Newbie Trial. You didn't do that by being helpless.
So why was he moving like he had no idea what he was doing?
Almost as if on cue, Mei's voice rang out from their table. Sharp and annoyed. Almost a little out of character.
"Stop holding back, Ziren!"
The blonde girl blinked in confusion.
Ziren flinched a little — eyes flicking over his opponent's form for a moment too long.
Riven's frown deepened.
What the hell is he doing?
Then, mid-fight, Ziren suddenly glanced over. "You won already?"
Riven raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Just punched him a few times. When he was about to actually get hurt, the array triggered and he got disqualified."
Ziren didn't answer.
So Riven added, "You sure you should be chatting like this? You look like you're struggling."
Still nothing.
It's like talking to a stone...
A moment after, Ziren asked quietly, "He didn't even get hurt?"
Riven tilted his head. "Nope. Array blocked it."
A short pause.
Then — "Oh."
The very next moment, the staff the blonde girl had just swung came to an abrupt stop.
Ziren had caught it.
One hand.
No movement. No recoil. No signs of injury.
The blonde girl froze, blinking at him in confusion.
So did Riven.
What?
Ziren held the staff firmly in place, eyes calm.
Gone was his helpless looking self.
Riven let out a slow breath, shook his head slightly, and turned toward the others.
"I'll help the others first."
To his left was Talia.
She was fighting the tall, slender disciple from the Silk Dominion.
Initially Riven was worried about her fight the most, as he had no real strong impression of her strength.
But when he looked closer, he knew he worried for nothing.
She wasn't fighting like Ziren or him. She wasn't even fighting directly.
She was playing tag.
While the other disciple moved with long, smooth strikes, Talia weaved around him like wind. She never stayed in one place longer than a breath. Darting, dipping, moving behind him before he could blink.
Then — just as Riven turned to look — she plucked the pearl cleanly off his neck and stepped back.
It took the boy a full second to realize what had happened.
Wow.
He was sure he wouldn't be able to match her speed unless he used Extreme Speed.
But this was good.
He turned towards the last matchup, already fully expecting their side to have a sweeping victory.
Lara was someone he had faith in for some reason.
But as he turned his image of a clean swipe got trashed instantly.
Lara was flying backwards, the skeletal array potruding out of her body as she was clearly knocked out.
Opposite her was the pigtailed girl with a calm, collected expression — not a single hair out of place.
She lowered her arm, a sleek crescent-shaped blade glinting in her hand. Not flashy. But clearly of a high quality.
Riven's eyebrows knit together.
Lara lost?
Damn.
The array shards faded, melting into the air like mist as Lara groaned softly on the ground.
Riven's jaw tightened slightly.
And then loosened again.
So what if she lost?
They had still had three people remanining.
Ziren moved toward him from the other side, brushing off his robe and Talia also stepped closer, still not saying a word.
Three versus one.
This should be a free victory.
And with that the sect should feel happy and maybe reward them?
Maybe he could get some spirit stones from this.
Maybe this would be the first step to saving up enough for that auction.
But as they stepped toward the pigtailed girl she slowly opened her mouth.
"Wait."
Riven looked at her.
At first he'd thought she was the most harmless.
She'd looked cute with her hair in pigtails.
But by now he knew he couldn't trust the exterior.
Somehow she reminded him of Mei.
So he didn't stop.
He wasn't gonna get fooled by anything she said.
At least that was his plan.
Until he heard her next words.
"I surrender."
He stoppped.
Ziren and Talia stopped too.
In fact, Ziren actually turned toward Riven, his face unreadable — but there was something in his eyes. A quiet look that said, I feel like I've been in this situation before.
Riven smiled wryly.
The Graveweaver elder stepped forward again, his voice calm and dry.
"Victory goes to the Venomthread Sect. Three pearls remain."
I thought too much.
A quiet ripple of reaction passed through the spectators.
The brown robed elder from the Black Widow Pavillion didn't look happy. Elder Syen on the other hand did.
The pigtailed girl gave them a small, respectful bow and stepped off the field without fuss.
No drama.
No protest.
Riven relaxed just a bit.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if all fights were like this.
"Return to your seats," the Graveweaver elder said. "Prepare for the next round."
They did.
Riven let himself settle back into the cushion, limbs still faintly tense from the earlier fight. The pearl at his neck hung cold and light, like a silent trophy. It was a little tighter than his sisters necklace.
Across from them, the other groups were already shifting.
The elder's voice rose once more, smooth and measured.
"Next match: Black Widow Pavilion versus Graveweaver Court."
Riven sat up slightly, eyes narrowing.
If the Silk Dominion fought with money, he wondered what these two would bring to the table.
Both sects disciples walked forward to meet the elder.
One by one, the skeletal arrays rose from the ground — pale apparitions crawling into each disciple with bone-white light and pearls were handed out.
When the last array was set, the Graveweaver elder stood tall and raised his voice again.
"Begin."