Chapter 18

As the flames snuffed out, the scene became clear. It was a sight to behold. The audience watched it with their mouths hanging open, no longer was there a rage in them. The referee regained half his composure, yet he could only gawk. Gawk as he saw the Branch Master of the Guild standing in the centre of the stage.

The Branch Master had his leg up, which had taken the full brunt of Rian’s fist. He was grabbing Hecate’s flaming fist in his hand at the same time. And he was staring down at the referee, quite literally pissed.

Hecate was the first to move, still enraged, but she did not move against the Branch Master. Rian, too, realized the situation and jumped back, his mana flaring for a fight. Yet, it was not them who moved first, but Natasha. She was making her way toward the stage with a stretcher and a few of the assistant medics. She looked as if she had been to war, bloody and haggard. The Imperial knight only let her go after the interference.

"Hecate ‘Raven Meredith is disqualified for disrup—"

"Quiet," the Guild Master muttered. "I had already interrupted the match before she reached here, and she has not attacked anyone but me… If I were you, Corwey, I would keep my mouth shut."

The referee clamped his mouth shut, more out of fear for his life than anything else.

"So what! She had every intention of striking me," Rian took a step forward, trying to appear intimidating.

"I, too, have every intention to kill you, little general—are you sure you want to push my limits,”

Their interaction went nowhere as Natasha rushed to Felix's side and created a white ward, lifted him off the ground, and laid him down on the stretcher. Hecate rushed to Felix's side too but turned away as she saw his condition. She felt her head getting heavy, both from the pain of not saving him earlier and knowing he was in this condition because of her.

A purple rod pierced the ground. ZAP! Iris appeared beside him. She felt bile rise up in her stomach as she saw him. She looked at Rian, "You have used all nine lives of luck by having Hecate stop me. If she had not, I would have cleaved your soul and sewn it again and again—for eternity. Even the Lord of Hell would have their soul shaken from your screams," Iris whispered, her voice ghostly quiet.

Rian took a step back, primal fear clutching his being. "Come at me, Bitch!" he roared as the thrill of seeing power beyond his imagination overtook the fear. Iris turned away, paying him no heed.

Ilona appeared beside Iris. Iris failed to even notice her. Ilona took a large stride and stopped beside Natasha. "Can you save him?"

"I can keep him alive, but healing him is beyond me. He has 39 broken bones, internal bleeding, brain damage, 2 cracks in his skull..." Natasha paused, her voice trembling, "And I cannot use anaesthesia; he is in an awakened state. And if I don't, he might become mentally crippled from the overwhelming pain." She whispered, her eyes filled with panic.

The Awakened State is a double-edged sword, a godsend or a scourge depending on the timing of its trigger. It serves as a preservation mechanism by a mage's mind to ensure the body's survival. While in the Awakened State, a mage becomes far more sensitive and aware of everything, including pain. If entered before being severely injured or when capable of fighting, the mage might survive an encounter that would have otherwise ended in death, sometimes even leading to entering the next level.

However, if triggered during severe injury it works to ensure mages suffer hell without any reward. A torture of sort. Even the presence of strong mana may feel painful in the Awakened State. Thus, Iris and others had completely stilled their mana, except Rian, of course, who continued to emanate his mana.

“I will take him to Lancaster's Estate until then; I need you to keep him alive,” Ilona suggested. A yellow circle began to form beneath her feet.

“I can put him to sleep,” Iris suggested.

“You can?” Even Ilona found her words absurd.

“I can.” Iris slowly reached for Felix’s side. “It'll be painful, I'm sorry,” Iris whispered, her voice pained.

“Darkness,” Iris muttered. Her hand turned black, along with her sleeve and everything. “Material Form,” a wisp of darkness rose from her hand like flames.

She raised her hand. “Concentration,” Her hand became complete again. Darkness recreated her missing finger and part of her palm.

Iris, without hesitation, drove her hand into Felix’s broken chest, where his heart was. It went in as if a ghost's hand. Felix visibly recoiled, yet he could not move away. A broken moan left his mouth, making Hecate close her eyes, and Natasha clenched the side of the stretcher. His body began to glow, and slowly, all the glow began to concentrate where Iris's hand was.

Iris pulled out her hand, a ball of blue mana in her hand much like Weaver’s orb, except she had no control over it. Felix’s body went completely limp. Natasha sighed as she created another white ward around him.

“If his body does not have an ounce of mana, he will fall asleep,” Iris tapped the ball, and it burst. Particles of mana spread into the stadium; they were warm and soothing, much like Felix’s presence.

"Darkness: Material Form" was a branch of the darkness element—It had three uses, and this was one of them. Materialising the Mana.

“Thank you…” Natasha muttered.

“I’ll take it from here,” Ilona said. The magic circle bloomed, and a roaring bird soared out from it. Ilona climbed up through the yellow bird’s wind, and others followed behind. It took to the sky with a loud cry.

“Thank you, Mr. Stanger,” Iris bowed, “Let’s go…” She was in a much better mood, knowing Felix would be alright.

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“Yeah, let’s leave,” Hecate hissed. Her fist clenched as she stared at the pleasantly smiling black haired man who just saved Felix. He was the same white-glass man from the party, Iris just realised. He was very unassuming.

…

“Who was he?” Iris questioned as they entered the room.

Hecate slammed shut the door behind her. It let out a pain creak.

“That was Branch Head of The Mercenaries Federation, Lesley,” Diantha answered.

“Lesley?” Iris asked quizzically, “Isn’t that the female receptionist?”

“They are the same person,” Hecate replied through her clenched teeth, “And most hatable bastard of Gracia.” Iris found the implication weird but did not comment.

Diantha stood from her seat, took off her white glove, revealing a red gemstone ring, and tapped on it. She stood in front of the melted glass and looked down at the somewhat calm crowd. Felix's mana had soothed their rage. She cleared her throat, and it was as if she had announced it through a microphone; everyone looked at her.

"That was not what this tournament has ever stood for. It deeply saddens me to see how far the power has corrupted the souls of the houses and their vassals. Yet, the opening ceremony has just begun... Today is the birthday of our mother, and we will fulfil the traditions as usual. I implore you all to return to your seats and witness the spectacles that unfold before you. Celebrate for Felix, he would not want you all to be down."

There was a murmur in the crowd as they returned to their seats. They looked calm as if Diantha had worked some magic on them.

As the crowd quieted down, Diantha returned to her seat.

"Did you ask Lesley to intervene?" Hecate questioned respectfully. She, too, had calmed down.

"I had hoped Lesley would be here before the battle began, but unfortunately, he did not make it. At least the damage was not as great as I had expected," Diantha muttered.

"I see..."

Diantha looked at Iris. "Lesley is allied with the Mercenary Federation, a neutral entity for the entire world. If he interferes in something, no one can claim him to be in allegiance with anyone but the Mercenary Federation."

Iris nodded, not fully comprehending half of Diantha's words, nor did she want to understand power dynamics at this moment.

The announcer returned to the stage and announced the next battle. It was Hecate vs. Fredrik Drik, a Level 2 Assassin.

"Level 2?! Really, have they gone mad? Today is supposed to be a high-level battle for the spectators. What are they thinking?" Hecate voiced her disbelief.

"Hold back," Diantha advised.

"I know." With a suffering sigh, Hecate left the room.

"They are blatantly abusing the rules. To do something so evil to Felix, can you really not do anything?" Iris couldn't comprehend it. They were the strongest ones here; surely, there should be something they could do.

"I can, but I choose not to," Diantha replied, her eyes dim, devoid of their usual glow.

"I will explain things to you. This tournament is a traditional celebration of the birthday of Grace Lancaster, a way to make all the people, mages and non-mages, feel together. Any objection I make will halt the tournament. I won't mind stopping it; I know Mother would want that too. But it would create public unrest. The implications of stopping this festival are nightmarish for normal people. It was 23 years ago when the tournament was stopped, and from there began a nightmare that still haunts every civilian to this day."

"On the opening ceremony 23 years ago, Lord Jeremiah killed Rian Reed's father. It led to the immediate suspension of the tournament and later resulted in a war between the Three Houses. There was not a single casualty from any of the houses or their closest allies, but among civilians, the death toll reached tens of thousands. It has taken 23 years for them to have a normal life again. If the tournament stops, they will not be able to sleep. No price is too great if it's for them to live a normal life."

Iris was about to nod when she realized something strange. "Shouldn't knights, mages, or soldiers be dying? And not the civilians?"

"That should be the case, except there is a law in Gracia that states: 'All citizens of Gracia, by birth or otherwise, above the age of 10, are considered soldiers in times of conflict within the territory they inhabit.' This means that three Houses have the power to compel every citizen onto an open battlefield to halt an invading army, while mages, in their secure abodes, cast spells that flatten the field and the citizens—they are supposed to protect—along with it. As such, the citizens of Gracia bear a scar too deep for me to even fathom, and I wish not to reawaken it. Laurent understands this, which is why she is willing to push me to this extent. For the citizens of Gracia, I am bound to peace—even if I have to watch Felix suffer, I will."

"I never thought a city filled with happiness would have such a dark history," she mused. Yet, it explained why she felt they were tired and scared beneath all the warmth.

"People try not to show it to the youngsters," Diantha replied, her voice filled with sadness.

"You care a lot about them,"

"I was born on the final day of that war. My birth led to immediate peace between the three Houses. Since then, people believe I'm Mother's blessing to them, born to soothe the suffering of Gracia. I don't want them to think otherwise. Perhaps I want to believe in that lie too." Diantha gave her a warm smile. "They think of me as their daughter and, at the same time, as their mother. They believe I can prevent the other two Houses from doing anything, but I choose not to for their peace. That's why they were so eager to intervene in the battle. The youth want to rebel with me and overthrow the system of the three Houses. However, the elderly and the scared ones do not want that."

"I... understand why you have such a presence," Iris muttered in disbelief; she couldn't understand what Diantha saw with those eyes. They seemed to view the world differently, perhaps that's why they glowed like the evening sun.

"Why did the war stop?" Iris asked with her childlike curios voice.

Diantha moved closer to her and whispered in her ear, "I will tell you, but you have to swear loyalty to me," then she leaned back, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. Iris scooted away, feeling her face grow warm. She didn't like Diantha being so close to her.

….

"Begin!" the referee announced.

"Give up," Hecate ordered, her voice unusually authoritative.

"N-no," the boy replied, his legs shaking. He took a step back as Hecate's frown grew deeper.

"I will ask you one last time."

"N—" Before he could finish, Hecate's lance pierced through his chest. His eyes widened, and he fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth.

"You!" The referee looked at her wide-eyed. "Hecate 'Raven' Meredith has injured—"

"Hey, Old Man! He just passed out from fear. Have those white eyes finally gone blank?" There was no mischief in Hecate's voice. it was a growl like a beast waiting to pounce. "Announce the result!" Hecate shouted, her mana flaring like a flame in a high wind.

The referee double-checked one final time before announcing the result.

Hecate turned to exit but caught sight of a black raven in the corner of her eye. Her expression twisted into one of disgust. "LEAVE!" she screamed and conjured a sea of blaze, engulfing everything in crimson flames. When the flames died down, Hecate was no longer on the stage.