Chapter 51: Adonis Vs Leander

"SPARK FLASH!"

BOOOOOOOOOM!!

A pillar of blue lightning and a cone of fire hit him from both sides at the same instant. The explosion lit the arena like a second sun. The shockwave blew the sand off the ground and the knights vanished like smoke.

Godfrey flew.

He crossed half the coliseum in a smoking streak, hit the arena wall, and went through the stone into the next row of rubble with a sound like a thunderclap.

CRAAASH!

Dust and silence settled over the coliseum.

A ruined golden gauntlet slowly twitched in the debris.

The nobles needed a moment to breathe.

A white-beaded count marveled at such visual poetry.

"My god... he bested the First Prince. A man in that armor!"

"Bested? He embarrassed him!"

"Did you see the way he used them? Only a genius tamer can use their beasts like chess pieces. Only beastpeople are this good at coordinating beasts."

"The sword, Davaniel, hits with double the weight of whatever it strikes. He picked small beasts, light ones, so the sword would be useless. And he burned the knights as well to make sure Prince Godfrey didn’t have backup. Then he baited the First Prince with that false opening. He scripted the entire fight."

"Has the Fourth Prince always been this good?"

"Who would’ve thought he could control a battlefield like that. He was always the quiet one."

"Unpredictable, too. Brilliant!"

In the royal box, Minerva smiled softly as she held a fan over her luscious lips. Her talented son stood on the sand with his beasts gathered around him.

King Aldrius suddenly burst out laughing.

"HAHAHAHA! Did you see that?!"

A few nobles turned.

"That’s my blood! That’s the Falsbane blood in him! Strategy! Control! Hah! Did you see how he lured my eldest into a trap? A prince of my line, of course he did!"

"Your Majesty—"

"Bradley is a witch’s son, after all! A witch’s child! High mana from the mother, and the brilliance, ah, the brilliance, from his father! I knew it! I always have! My genes! My genes never fail! Not once! A king’s seed is a king’s seed! Hahaha!"

The laughing king wiped a tear.

Minerva’s smile thinned.

Under her sleeve her nails dug into her palm.

’You barely looked at him for nineteen years.’

Aldrius liked combat classes. Godfrey, the tank. Leander, the swordsman. Boys who looked heroic when they raised steel. He’d never known what to say to a boy who stood at the back and moved other pieces around.

And now he was bragging like he’d raised him himself.

’Disgusting.’

"Still, it’s strange," a noble murmured near the balcony.

"Hm?"

"I heard from the court mage’s records. The Fifth Prince’s mana pool is higher than the Fourth Prince’s. How can a failure have more mana than a witch’s son?"

"Isn’t that supposed to be impossible?"

Aldrius stopped laughing as his hands tightened around the armrests until the wood creaked.

Minerva calmly sipped her tea.

"Hm?" she said sweetly. "Did the King say something?"

Aldrius glared at the arena. "Don’t start now."

Many nobles and commoners pointed down.

"Look! The Fifth Prince!"

Every head turned to the other battle taking place.

The sight was not pretty.

Duke Soron shook his head at the nonsense he was seeing and didn’t waste a second to look at his daughter.

"Bradley, Godfrey, Leander... all fine choices, yet you chose to go with the useless one. You’ve never disgraced our family before and I trust you, but it seems my trust has failed me."

"But, Father—"

"Be quiet. You disappoint me, Mariella."

Mariella lowered her head, feeling sad and dejected, then there’s Prussia who sat next to her with empty eyes and a lower lip that trembled at the familiarity of this scene.

It reminded her of her father, as if that’s important.

’Focus on the battle, Prussia...’ she told herself.

Leander was hunting.

Adonis was running.

It’s the simplest way to describe the last three minutes.

The sand behind him was gone. The ground behind THAT was gone. Everywhere Leander swung, the arena paid for it. Red Dragon Sword Style carried fire and scorching mana on every strike, and every strike carved a trench through the stone and set the air on fire.

"Stop running, you coward!"

SHHK!

Adonis ducked. A crescent of flame passed over his head and tore a piece of the wall off. He kicked off with the mana-springs, slid left, and fired a bullet over his shoulder without looking.

BOOOM!

It hit Leander square in the chest.

The Third Prince grunted. Pushed back a step. Then he shook it off like a man would brush off rain.

"Is that all?!"

’Why won’t you die—?!’

Adonis’s armor flexed as he spun and zigzagged like a living bullet across the shattered sand. The torso plate of his Magic Saint Armor pulsed against his ribs, converting heat into mana. It was keeping him alive, if only barely.

In the stands, Mariella was white.

"This doesn’t make any sense, his scales should have cracked. With the amount of power from Tiamat, a single shot could wipe out a squadron of bronze-class knights... forget that, it could even pierce a lesser dragon’s heart."

Prussia calmly lowered her head. "Indeed."

"Indeed? It’s insane. I don’t get it. It’s not just toughness. The hits are bouncing off him. He’s taking them like a normal man takes a slap on the cheek!"

"... It’s an anti-water rune."

Both women jumped when they randomly saw Alpis barging into their conversation. She was sitting right behind them with her legs crossed and a meat skewer in her mouth.

"A-, Alpis what’re you doing here?!" Prussia whispered.

Alpis smiled sweetly at her. "I missed you and Master."

"B-, But... But your form..."

"Don’t worry, I look human, see?"

That’s when Prussia and Mariella noticed how elegant Alpis was looking at the moment.

Her black hair was tied into twintails and she was wearing a fitted black sleeveless dress over a white, long-sleeved blouse with a high collar. She also had sheer-looking white thigh-high stockings for her pudgy thighs.

Most notably, her horns and tail were gone!

"Wait, you made a human form?" Mariella asked.

Alpis lifted a brow. "Made? I always had one."

"Then why didn’t you use it?"

"... Oh, I forgot."

"..."

Mariella stared bleakly at the dumb dragon girl and decided to change the topic out of pity.

"Back to the anti-water rune... what did you mean?"

"Oh, that, I almost forgot. The swordsman boy has a gold-class defense rune on him. One on the sword, one under his armor. They’re linked. It cuts half the water damage on contact and his body does the rest."

"Half?" Prussia said.

"Half the damage is gone. The rest, his body shrugs off."

Prussia’s expression darkened as she turned slowly toward the royal box.

"Who made it?"

"No idea."

Alpis shrugged and took another bite.

"But it’s made FOR the spear. Someone knew what it did."

Mariella’s eyes widened.

’Someone knew. But who? And how?’

She turned back to the field. Adonis was sprinting through a rain of fire, kicking off the wall, sliding under a flaming arc, and she felt her heart squeeze.

"Honey..."

She held her heart desperately.

’Eight.’

Adonis counted without breathing.

Eight shots from Tiamat. Eight out of twenty, maybe twenty-two if Geles’ notes were accurate. With his +15% mana increase and several other buffs from rewards he could fire maybe ten or twelve more. The core was getting warm in his hands, the way it did when it complained.

That was fine. He didn’t need the rest if the plan went well.

’Just a little longer.’

A flame sword passed so close to his neck it singed the hair behind his ear.

"Is that it?!" Leander shouted. "You said you’d win! You said it in front of everyone! I see how you won Mariella! Did you run away with her like this too?!"

"She chose me, you know. It’s not a complicated concept."

"SHUT UP!"

Leander’s face twisted. A vein bulged on his forehead. The fire along his sword brightened from red to orange to near white, and his movements sharpened with it. Every step he took was faster than the last, as if the sword was dragging him forward.

Red Dragon Sword Style didn’t slow when it got angry.

It only sped up.

Adonis felt it right away.

His zigzags were shorter. His dodges were narrower. The sword came at him from the left, then from above, then from the right, always an inch from his throat.

’Faster. He’s getting faster.’

The crowd started to shout.

"Kill him!"

"Kill him, Leander!"

"The bastard prince! He deserves it!"

"Disgrace to the royal family! Cut his head off!"

"Run, you coward!"

Wine cups flew and laughs boomed. A cabbage hit the rail near the commoners’ section. Voices rolled down from the nobles’ tiers too, full of twisted delight.

"He should have died years ago."

"A stain. A stain on the Falsbane name!"

Adonis ducked another slash, rolled, and came up gasping.

Everyone wanted him dead.