— Your left. Ten o'clock. It's condensed mana this time.

Edris immediately pivoted his body sideways, plunging his heel down on the ground and boosting himself to the side. As expected, Faren soon unleashed a condensed magic beam that pierced through the location where he had been standing a second ago.

— Long range attack to your left.

— He's following up with a sprawled magic expansion.

With Ace's broad field perception, he had analysed Faren Ablemore's every movement, anticipating his attacks a few seconds before they actually occur based on his body posture and mana production. All of this was being reported live via Edris's head, so all he needed to do was react promptly based on the received information.

Although tiring, it was doable.

"You're just playing around after all...!" Faren clenched his teeth after seeing the amused glint in Edris's eyes.

All his past achievements and titles flashed through his mind, and Faren found himself fuming. He had never experienced such humiliation in his life.

In reality, however, the dark-haired man paid no attention to the mage standing before him.

Edris couldn't hold back his excitement after getting to experience more of Ace's capabilities, which almost felt like a cheat.

I could really take advantage of this in the future.

It was then he heard a sigh as the attacks coming at him suddenly came to a halt. Tilting his head to the side, Edris stared at the red-haired mage, who stood there with an expression of both sullenness and shock.

— It looks like he ran out of mana.

"It looks like you've run out of mana," Edris repeated Ace's words.

"...You could even tell that?" Faren let out a weak, bitter laugh, his knuckles turning white as he continued to clench his heavy staff, eyes full of regret. The weight of his staff, which usually had been a reminder of his talent, dragged him down like intolerable baggage.

To think that Faren Ablemore, the youngest member of the Mage Brigade, the talented mage with boundless potential, would ever encounter a situation where his mana production could not keep up with his magic usage.

Unacceptable.

Stomach churning, he felt an urge to stomp at the ground, to cry out in frustration. But he couldn't do that. Not when everyone was watching. The audience's utmost attention that he had enjoyed mere minutes ago was now suffocating him inside out.

His heart swelled with countless regrets; if only he had not trained his physiques and only focused on magical enhancement; if only he knew about the traveller's agility; if only he better prepared beforehand...

If only.

Now that his mana had run out, Faren was useless with his current physical capabilities.

For a mage to run out of mana amidst a battle was the same as a swordsman losing both of his arms in physical combat.

The arena was silent, with intense emotions filling the atmosphere as people watched the proud and talented young mage lower his head, his staff dropping to the side with an empty thump.

"I've lost."

He had lost completely. From the corner of his eye, Faren observed the dark-haired man standing before him, feeling self-conscious. The latter gazed back, retaining his initial calmness. Besides the parts of his cloth that grew dusty from Faren's attacks, his body itself was without a single injury.

The traveller had forced a mage to his limit by utterly exhausting his mana, while not using an inkling of magic himself.

It was a cruel but powerful way to achieve victory.

"It was an overwhelming loss."

The gong hanging above the arena sounded with a sonorous vibration, echoing throughout the air as if to affirm his statement.

"Not at all."

Faren lifted his eyes slightly and saw the gentle smile on the traveller's face.

"You are strong. Truly," he said with sincere eyes.

It was true. Edris thought he could sleep for a week after moving around this much in one day.

— ...

"But, but you didn't even bother to use dark magic. Or the fire! You didn't even try to hypnotise me, either. Wasn't that because you thought I wasn't even worthy for you to channel your mana?" Numerous emotions swelled up in Faren's voice as his eyes shook with desperation.

"...No?" Edris was visibly confused as he watched the mage before him spew out all sorts of nonsense.

Dark magic? Hypnosis?

He really believed all that?

Edris was at a loss after hearing the young mage's surprisingly naive thoughts. Forget about dark magic, Edris didn't even know how to forge normal magic with mana.

And hypnosis?

Really?

"I am capable of no such thing." Edris felt no need to explain everything, but he figured things would grow hasslesome if he left the rumours as they were. "People are quick to believe the words of others. But mindlessly succumbing to them can only lead to one's downfall."

He paused.

"Think about it. Even a sphere can become a cube depending on the perspective, let alone the simple words of others."

As Edris spoke, he did not notice a peculiar expression on Faren's face, which consisted of a spectrum of emotions mashed together like the pumpkin porridge he had the night before.

Faren stood dazed. The traveller's words, uttered with such authenticity, echoed in his ears over and over again. Like he said, anything can be seen as distorted or proper; it all depends on the perspective.

At that moment, he thought Edris was truly wise.

Putting aside his belated realisation, Faren reached forward to return the handshake, acknowledging his loss.

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The arena erupted into cheers at their reconciliation, the audience gushing over the match that had been invigorating to witness.

"You're... Incredible. Are you also aiming to become an archmage?" Faren asked the dark-haired man, who only gently shook his head at his question.

"Not at all," Edris replied. Casting his gaze towards the cloudless sky, he shared his honest thoughts with the man standing before him. "I believe in the value of peace. A peaceful and free life—this is what I aim for."

The spectators who had been hollering were now quiet after hearing Edris's words. Despite the rumours circulating about the traveller being a dark magic user and a hypnotist, they now found these rumours simply implausible after witnessing Edris's character first-hand.

Likewise, Faren shared the same thoughts after hearing his thoughts.

The traveller was doing all this not to get stronger or gain recognition, but to live in peace? He thought that Edris's actions were not something he could understand. However, he couldn't help but be captivated by the genuineness in the traveller's voice as he shared his wisdom.

Faren then reflected on his own situation. Had he been too dependent on the opinions of others and external influences?

The mage recalled his dream. He had wanted to become an archmage, but since when did that goal embody so many secondary incentives? Since when did things like fame and pride become his primary concerns?

With a bitterness rising in his heart, he then thought about Traveller Edris, who only acted for the sake of peace, unaffected by the rumours and influences around him.

Although Edris was young in appearance, he had eyes that belonged to someone who had seen too much of the world to remain youthful. His gentle but solemn gaze was etched in the mage's eyes as he subconsciously swallowed.

At that moment, Faren felt an unprecedented emotion arise in his heart:

Admiration.

Faren thought he needed to return to square one. To recommence with the basics. To refocus his goal with baby steps.

"You are quite amazing," he finally said. His eyes glistened at Edris's words of enlightenment, which had unravelled for him a whole new world.

At the mage's odd reaction, Edris chose not to respond.

Rather than experiencing the happiness of winning, he felt more relief at the thought of being only one step away from the finish line. After almost a week of tiresome, tolling matches, the tournament was finally reaching its finale. The mere idea of the reward was enough to get Edris's lips upturning in anticipation.

All that was left was the finals, and the money was as good as his.

***

Emerging victorious on his side of the semifinals, the dark-haired man was now leisurely at a nearby cafe as he awaited the results on the other side.

A few hours remained until the start of the finals. Edris was hoping that his opponent would not be a pain in the ass.

Unfortunately, it was nothing but wishful thinking.

"Congratulations to our winner—Celio!" An announcement delivered itself around the city via a diffusal orb.

Edris buried his face in his palms, lamenting at the worst possible scenario that was now brought into reality.

The boy with golden-blond hair, Celio, was the last person he wanted to face. Edris had watched some of his previous matches, and the boy was the embodiment of energy. Celio was not only an advanced combatant, but he also adept at channelling mana to enhance his strength.

Edris recalled the sack of gold the boy had carried with him the other day. He sighed in annoyance, concluding that bribing wouldn't work in his case either, even with a large sum of money.

Ever since he arrived in Zacriya, his luck never seemed to not disappoint him.

"Your order." His thoughts were interrupted by a raspy voice, belonging to an old man who had brought over a bowl of tomato soup and a container of sugar cubes.

"Thank you," Edris said with a polite smile.

Ace watched as the dark-haired man drenched the tomato soup with sugar, his movements smoothly habitual as if he had been doing this his whole life.

— You really put sugar into anything.

Dismissing the voice's disgusted tone, Edris shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

"Any progress on your memories?"

Instead of answering, Ace let out a light sigh. He had hoped to regain some of his memories by roaming around the city and observing the different interactions between Nolmes's citizens, but nothing came up so far.

"Guess not. But you have lots of time, so I wouldn't worry about it too much," Edris replied half-heartedly as he gently blew on the warm liquid. After swallowing a spoonful of soup, he looked up again. "However, I do think something's off. Why is it that the statement about war is the only thing you remember?"

Ace was quiet, but he had wondered the same. Despite all the blanks in his memories, this single phrase stuck out like a permanent engraving in his muddled mind. It was something he felt he could not forget, no matter what.

Both Edris and Ace shuddered at this thought, but for completely different reasons.

***

"...This is quite something."

Peering from the waiting area in the tunnel, Edris blinked at the sea of spectators that filled every seat in the Dialesenn Arena. Their ear-piercing cheers were already filling the stadium, despite the two finalists having yet to show up. The grandiose setup was worlds away from the preliminary rounds a few days ago.

There was a commentator who was enthusiastically riling up the crowd.

While the majority of the spectators sat in the common seats that encircled the arena grounds, the announcer was positioned at the center of the balcony floor, giving him a thorough view of the battleground from above.

Edris's gaze swept past the seating arrangements and landed on the floor level even higher than the announcer's position.

A person, surrounded by knights and mages, was leaning past the balcony on the third floor that was only accessible to prominent figures in power. Blinking twice, Edris focused his vision and felt an emerging headache as he ascertained the person's identity.

Even from afar, his fiery red hair radiated an aura of boldness, representing the majestic Zacriya bloodline.

Dolan Zacriya.

The second prince of the Zacriya royal family. After the eldest prince fell ill over a year ago, he took over the role of the Crown Prince under his brother's insistence. Shouldering the new responsibilities, Prince Dolan had no choice but to step away from his previous carefree lifestyle and translate into one filled with meetings and administrative work from the palace.

"Ha… To think the Crown Prince would come to watch the finals himself." Edris lifted his head, glancing towards the flamboyant-looking man.

— Looks like he's interested in candidates that would brighten up Zacriya's future. He could be looking for you.

Shuddering at the voice's menacing words, Edris directed a dirty look into the air.

"The time has arrived and there’s no turning back! Unlike our previous matches, forfeiting will not be an option for our finalists.” The commentator’s voice boom throughout the stadium, his dramatic tone inciting a wave of hollers from the audience.

“The Adalarians always fought ‘till the end. And as the host of their Wulin Tournament, so will we!” He gave a timely pause and took a deep breath.

”Let us welcome the finalists!"

At the commentator's cue, Edris stepped into the light, and he was welcomed with a deafening reaction from spectators all around the amphitheatre.

From the opposite side of the arena grounds, Celio also approached the center. From the ferocious aura around him, people who didn't know about the tournament would assume that the golden-haired boy was heading to war.

As the two exchanged simple greetings, Edris felt himself being scrutinised inside out by the young opponent, who peered at him with an oddly intense gaze.

— What did you do? Why is he looking at you like that?

A frown unknowingly made its way onto the dark-haired man's face. He wanted to know the same thing.

Edris couldn't help but imagine the level of pain he would experience with even one hit from the scary-looking boy. The consequences would definitely be worse than being smashed on the head with a flower pot.

Lowering his voice to a discreet whisper, Edris mumbled towards the air around him. "Optimistically speaking, I mean. In the best case scenario..."

— ...

"How likely am I to win this? Actually, no. Scratch that. Can I at least return alive?" Edris said with a hopeful voice, one that Ace entirely overlooked in his reply.

— ...Heh.

"..."

Edris swallowed the profanity about to come out of his mouth, replacing it with a helpless grimace.