Chapter 308: Whispers in the Dugout

Chapter 308: Chapter 308: Whispers in the Dugout

The side rings buzzed with activity as Match 4 began.

Stone Heart Sect versus Gale Wind Sect. Two regional sect with nothing to prove and everything to lose.

Their fighters circled each other like hungry wolves, testing, probing, waiting for the first mistake.

Damon barely watched.

He sat in the dugout with his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his folded hands.

The sounds of clashing weapons and roaring crowds faded into background noise.

Damon felt a gentle weight settle against his shoulder.

The familiar scent of sea breeze and silk filled his nostrils.

Ariel’s soft voice broke through his thoughts.

"Bored already, my lord?" Her vivid blue eyes looked up at him with concern.

"Just thinking," Damon said, his gaze still fixed on the distant VIP corridor where Alistair had vanished.

From his other side, Mio let out an amused snort.

"You’re always thinking. Do you ever stop?"

She stretched her long legs out, her ponytail swaying as she tilted her head.

Damon allowed himself a slight smirk.

"Not really."

The Stone Heart fighter landed a solid blow, sending the Gale Wind cultivator stumbling backward. The crowd cheered.

Damon’s eyes drifted to the VIP corridor.

He saw Alistair Reventon moving through the shadows of the upper walkway, his robes blending with the dark stone.

The man moved with purpose, his steps measured, his gaze fixed on something ahead.

Damon’s golden eyes tracked him.

Alistair stopped at a small door marked "Tournament Clerk - Authorized Personnel Only."

He glanced left, then right. His hand moved.

A jade slip passed from his palm to the clerk’s waiting fingers.

The clerk nodded once, tucked the slip into his robes, and disappeared back into the administrative wing. Alistair straightened his collar and walked away, his face blank.

Damon’s jaw tightened.

’Bracket manipulation. Of course.’

He didn’t need to see the slip to know what it contained. The Reventon family had been buying influence for generations.

A little corruption in the tournament draw was the least of their crimes.

’The Crimson Eclipse Sect will avoid us until Day 2. That gives them time to study us.’

Damon filed the information away and turned his attention back to the side rings.

Match 4 ended with Stone Heart claiming victory.

Match 5 began immediately after.

Raging Bull Sect versus Frost Valley Sect.

The Frost Valley cultivator tried to freeze the ground, but the Raging Bull fighter shattered the ice with a single stomp.

The match was over in three exchanges.

Damon didn’t care.

His focus remained on the corridors, on the guards, on the shifting currents of power that moved beneath the surface of the tournament.

Then he saw them.

Royal guards.

A full squad of them, their golden armor gleaming under the corridor lights, their spears held at attention. They moved in formation, flanking a familiar figure.

Prince Alex Solaris.

The prince walked with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression bored, his eyes scanning the competitor tunnels with casual interest.

Behind him, two guards carried a list.

A roster.

Damon’s heart didn’t race. His breathing didn’t change. But his mind sharpened to a razor’s edge.

They’re checking the competitors.

Every single one.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to see Lumina standing at the edge of the dugout, her "Lark" disguise in place, her collar pulled high.

She was trembling.

Her hands were clenched at her sides, her knuckles white. Her breathing had gone shallow, her chest barely rising and falling beneath the loose robes.

Damon saw her eyes dart toward the guards.

He saw her swallow.

He saw her take a half-step backward, her body tensing like a deer about to bolt.

’She’s going to run. And if she runs, they’ll catch her.’

Damon moved.

He rose from his seat in one fluid motion, crossing the distance between them before anyone could react.

He positioned himself directly in front of her, his broad back blocking the guards’ line of sight.

"Breathe," he said softly.

Lumina’s eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, her lips parted. She looked past him, toward the guards, toward Prince Alex.

Damon reached under his wide sleeves and found her hand.

He took it.

Her fingers were cold, trembling against his palm. He squeezed gently, anchoring her, pulling her attention back to him.

"Look at me," he whispered.

She did.

Her pale blue eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Her jaw was tight, her teeth clenched.

Damon leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear.

"No one in Solaris City can touch you as long as I live."

Her breath hitched.

The guards passed behind them, their footsteps echoing through the tunnel. Prince Alex’s voice carried, light and unconcerned, as he commented on the tournament’s progress.

They didn’t stop.

They didn’t look.

They moved on, their boots scuffing against the stone floor, their armor clinking softly with each step.

The guards’ leader kept his gaze fixed forward, his hand resting on his sword hilt, his posture rigid.

They passed without a glance, without a word, without acknowledging the trembling princess behind Damon’s broad back.

Damon watched them go, his golden eyes tracking their movement, his body still shielding Lumina.

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers digging into his sleeve. The danger had passed, but the memory of their near-discovery lingered in the air like smoke.

They moved on, and so did the world.

Lumina’s trembling eased. Her fingers relaxed in Damon’s grip. Her breathing slowed, deepened, steadied.

She nodded once.

Damon released her hand and stepped back, his expression calm, his posture relaxed. To anyone watching, he had simply been comforting a nervous teammate.

No one suspected a thing.

The bronze gong tolled.

Grand Marshal Vane’s voice boomed across the coliseum.

"Match 6! Vermilion Bird Sect versus Silver Wind Sect!"

The crowd roared.

Fire erupted from the Vermilion Bird dugout as seven cultivators in crimson robes stepped forward, their leader—a woman with hair like molten gold—leading the charge.

Damon turned to watch.

The Vermilion Bird Sect was one of the four guardian beast sects.

And they looked hungry.

The Silver Wind Sect took the field opposite them, their formation tight, their expressions grim. They knew what they were up against.

The gong tolled again, shaking the coliseum.

The match began, the golden-haired leader charging.