The air in the VVIP lounge was thick with the scent of incense and rare herbs, a fragrance so dense it made Merlin lightheaded. Unlike what he expected after being captured, there were no shackles, no ropes, no immediate threats. Instead, the woman who had led him here now stood at attention by the door, blade drawn but relaxed, watching him with calculating eyes.

Across the lavish room, seated atop a plush crimson couch lined with golden embroidery, was the woman in charge.

Madam Veyra.

Draped in flowing silk that shimmered under the enchanted lights, her deep red lips curled into an amused smile as she leaned forward, examining him like an artist appraising a rare jewel. Her sharp, feline eyes glinted with intrigue as she reached out, her perfectly manicured nails tracing over the edge of his cheek.

“My, my…” she purred, her voice like warm honey laced with something venomous. “I assumed my people were exaggerating, but look at you… A delicate face, skin soft like fresh snow, and those eyes—so bright, like polished sapphires.”

Her breath carried the potent scent of crushed herbs and exotic spices, an overwhelming wave of perfume that made Merlin’s head spin. His stomach twisted, but he kept his expression neutral, unwilling to give her any satisfaction.

“Is he restrained?” she asked, not looking away from him.

The woman at the door—Seraph—gave a sharp nod. “No need. If he tries anything, I’ll cut him down before he blinks.”

“Mm. That’s not necessary. I much prefer having pleasant company.” Veyra’s fingers slid away from his face, though her presence lingered like a ghostly caress. She gestured toward the luxurious couch beside her. “Come, sit. We’ll watch your master together.”

Merlin’s brows furrowed, and he responded firmly, “He’s not my master. He’s my partner.”

Veyra paused for a moment, then let out a soft, amused laugh. “How adorable.”

Merlin hesitated, his mind working through a dozen different possibilities. If he sat beside her, he’d be within perfect range to annihilate everyone in the room—including himself. His mana was already primed, just a thought away from setting off a catastrophic chain reaction.

But then Yun Jin’s words echoed in his mind:

No matter what happens, don’t give your life up. Trust me.

Merlin clenched his fists in his lap, exhaling slowly through his nose. He wouldn't throw away his life so easily. Not when Yun Jin had promised to come back for him.

He swallowed his pride and stepped forward, lowering himself onto the couch next to the madam. Her perfume curled around him like a snake, and he fought the urge to recoil.

“Good boy.” She smiled, resting a single hand on his knee, her long nails pressing lightly into the fabric of his robes. “Now, let’s see how your partner fares, shall we?”

Her attention turned back to the large enchanted mirror across the room, where Yun Jin’s match was beginning.

Merlin exhaled silently and followed her gaze, eyes narrowing as he watched his partner step into the arena. Meanwhile, Veyra tilted her head slightly, then turned to the man standing beside her—her champion, a towering figure wrapped in a regal, dark cloak. "What do you think of him?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of curiosity.

The champion barely spared Yun Jin a glance before scoffing. "He's nothing. That boy doesn't interest me." He waved dismissively toward the arena. "The one in Arena Five, however... Now he's worth something. A real warrior."

Veyra traced a finger along the rim of her wine glass, her eyes flickering with recognition. "Ah, you mean Olag? One of our VIP guest’s prized slaves? His master is quite the wealthy patron—so do try to make this event worth his investment. But Kravtsov, my dear champion, don't underestimate the newcomer."

Kravtsov scoffed but then crossed his arms, his sharp gaze lingering on Yun Jin. "I'll admit, the boy has potential. Give him a few more years, let him level up a bit, and he might be someone worth my time." His voice turned more serious, the arrogance still present but tempered by experience. "I’m no fool, Veyra. I know a genius when I see one. But right now? He’s just another hopeful stepping into a world beyond him."

Veyra then turned to Merlin with a sly smile. "You heard the man. Your friend won't be able to win. So I'll give you a little offer."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "I won't deal with someone like you, especially after you threatened an innocent family."

Veyra laughed, shaking her head. "Innocent? You mean Hagan?" She leaned in, her emerald-green eyes glimmering with amusement. "Do you know how many lives that man has taken? Likely more than mine."

"I'm sure it is different! You're a criminal!" Merlin snapped.

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"Oh?" Veyra tilted her head, a slow, dangerous smile forming. "Tell me, little mage—how exactly is it different?" Her voice coiled around him like a velvet noose, her gaze hypnotic, shifting like a predator ready to pounce.

Merlin’s thoughts grew hazy. Something was pushing against his mind, slithering through the edges of his thoughts like a serpent wrapping around its prey. His heart pounded as he realized—she was trying to charm him.

With sheer skill, he pushed back.

A sudden surge of mana crackled around him, and in an instant, Veyra’s expression faltered. A sharp recoil, a flicker of surprise in her gaze.

For a single second, her focus slipped.

She blacked out.

Seraph reacted instantly—her blade flashed, a glint of steel aiming straight for Merlin’s throat.

But before the attack could land, Merlin’s mana exploded outward, an unrefined wave of force that sent the assassin stumbling back. The entire room vibrated with pressure, loose objects shaking from the force of his raw magical output.

Even Kravtsov tensed, his body coiling with instinct.

And then—

"STOP."

Veyra’s voice cut through the air like a whip. All movement ceased. The tension in the room crackled like static, everyone frozen mid-action.

She exhaled, her composed smile returning as she flicked her fingers, brushing aside a stray strand of hair. Her emerald gaze locked onto Merlin, filled with newfound interest.

"...I see. How fascinating."

She leaned back, elegantly crossing one leg over the other. "It seems we may have underestimated you, little mage."

Merlin remained on high alert, his mana still swirling, ready to erupt at a moment’s notice. His breathing was out of control, and his heart was hammering.

Veyra merely smirked. "But let’s not get too bold. If you try anything reckless, everyone in this stadium will make sure your friend’s head hang from a noose and paraded around town. And even that slippery old man won’t be able to save you."

Merlin’s mana crackled. "Liar!"

Veyra chuckled. "Oh? I even know about Ardent’s little pet. What was her name again? Ah, yes… Elara." She watched as Merlin hesitated—an opening Seraph took advantage of, pressing her blade to his neck, drawing a thin line of blood. "Shall I continue?"

Then Veyra’s gaze darkened, a slow smirk curling her lips. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper, just loud enough for Merlin to hear. "And what about Hagan’s family? His wife is quite the beauty… unfortunate, really, that her legs no longer work. But you’d be surprised, dear boy—some people find that kind of trait… appealing. And the girl, well—"

The moment she spoke, the energy around Merlin cracked like glass. The sheer force of his restrained magic warped the air, sending a shockwave rippling through the lavish room. Even Kravtsov, the seasoned champion, took an instinctive step back, his muscles coiling with tension.

Seraph’s blade twitched at Merlin’s throat, but for the first time, hesitation flickered in her sharp eyes. The weapon in her grasp, once pristine steel, began to glow red-hot, the sheer intensity of Merlin’s magical pressure warping its structure. Within seconds, the metal groaned and melted, dripping molten droplets onto the floor.

Seraph quickly withdrew what remained of her blade, eyes widening as she realized the true extent of the power restrained before her.

Then, as suddenly as it came, the explosion of magic stilled. Merlin took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing himself to reign in his fury. His eyes burned like sapphire embers as he glared at Veyra.

"I'm having none of this," he hissed, voice trembling with rage.

Kravtsov, sensing the storm still lingering beneath the surface, clicked his tongue and turned to Veyra. "I’m going to prepare for my fight," he muttered, clearly uninterested in whatever power games she was playing. "Keep your pet on a leash."

He strode toward the exit, throwing the doors open with a firm push. Seraph cast one last glance at Merlin before following, blade still in hand but no longer pressed to his skin.

Veyra, however, simply smiled, a gleam of caution in her emerald gaze. "Before we get off on the wrong foot any further, why not hear what I have to say first? Then, if you still want to explode, that will be your business."

She leaned back, swirling the wine in her glass before bringing it to her lips. "You see, I saw the potential of this city long before anyone else did. It may not have the perfect location, but it is desirable. So much untapped potential. Do you even know what this place was like three years ago, before I arrived? A poor rural town, barely surviving. Even their irrigation worked only half the time. But now? You’ve seen it with your own eyes."

Merlin frowned, his mind piecing together the fragments of what he'd observed. "Then why does every honest business seem to be struggling? The church, the family restaurant… even basic supplies seem to be in shortage."

Veyra tilted her head, a slow smirk forming. "And yet, did you not see the liveliness on your way into town? Who do you think invited all those merchants and travelers here? Who do you think made this place a hub for business? Me." Her voice held a note of pride, but also something else—conviction.

Her fingers drummed lightly on the armrest as she continued, "Ardent may have whispered many unflattering things about me, but you can’t deny the evidence before you. This arena, these VIP guests—none of them came because of him. They came because I created value. That old snake? He hoards his wealth, keeps his knowledge locked away. I build. I create. That’s the difference between us."

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. "And how do I know you’re not just lying?"

Veyra chuckled, sipping from her glass before setting it down. "You don’t. But tell me, did that old man even offer you the chance to decide for yourself? Or did he spin tales of cults and conspiracies, expecting you to fall in line?"

Merlin hesitated, his breath catching. That was exactly what had happened.

Veyra’s smile widened slightly as she caught his reaction. "So why not hear my side of the story too? Hear what I’ve built, what I’ve done. Then, and only then, decide for yourself."

Merlin’s jaw tightened. His instincts screamed at him not to trust her. But at the same time… he wanted to know. "Fine," he said at last.

"Then tell me. Let’s hear your side of things."