“Then I will be off, good luck with your next fight!” With those words, the black-haired girl and her amber-haired friend left, leaving the blue-haired woman alone in the room to stare at the small gem in her hand. As they climbed the stairs, making their way back to their box seats, Ravina asked Elysia, “Do you think she liked it?”

“Naturally. Given that it was a token of your faith in her victory, she'd be a boor to dismiss it.” Elysia replied, her tone laced with indifference.

“That's… that's good.” Ravina sighed in relief. Not only had she given the heroine of the story a bribe to remember her by after she won the tournament, but she met her as well. “I didn't expect that.” she admitted, the excitement apparent in her voice.

“To meet her? Varis has done far more with a lot less.”

“N-no, that she'd be so cool!” Ravina clarified, a bit sheepishly.

"Cool?" Elysia smirked, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "Yes, a commoner playing knight does have a certain... appeal."

“It's not just that,” Ravina followed, thinking about how to say it. “She just, shines… you know like…there is just this magnetism to her? You know?”

Giving up, Ravina shook her head, “well, it doesn't matter. I gave her the gift in the end.”

“That you did,” Elysia murmured. A pause stretched between them before Elysia broke the silence, a curious note in her voice. “You know, it's funny, but I don't think I've ever received a gift from you.”

Ravina blinked, taken aback by the sudden comment. "What?"

Elysia laughed, her voice carrying a hint of dryness. “Of course, not that I was expecting one. If I received a gift from everyone I helped, I'd probably own an estate next to the royal palace by now.”

“I, sorry,” Ravina stuttered, her face turning red. “I didn't realize. I mean, I-”

But Elysia cut her off with a light pat on her back. “Don't fret about it, dear. It's not as though you've enough coin to keep showering gifts on everyone you find... fascinating.” Her voice was light, but her eyes reflected a hint of sadness that was mixed in with a little bit more.

Soon enough the pair made their way back to their seats.

“Get everything you needed?” Varis asked as they entered.

“Of course. Why, worried about us?” Elysia replied.

He shook his head. “No.” came his crisp reply before he turned to continue his conversation. Dozens more of the order knights had joined them in the box to watch the tournament. The loud conversations were filled with reviews on the knightly fights, some offered inquisitive ideas on the commoners but the main topic in the air was the fight between Khareem and Delick. As the scent of alcohol grew stronger in the box, Ravina found her way to the seats nearest the open view, welcoming the relatively fresh air that drifted in from the tournament grounds.

“So little lady,” Fraven's voice drew her attention as she settled down, presenting her with a tall glass of orange juice. She accepted it, and he continued, “how about a real bet this time?” he offered.

Ravina took a sip of the juice, the hint of alcohol hitting her taste buds - just enough for her to know it was there. Before, she could out drink a fish. However Ravina’s unrefined tongue recoiled at the overpowering taste of the drink and so she was unable to show off her well maintained skill of her past life.

Regardless, the juice contained no more alcohol than the water, an easy measure to keep the water clean. Setting the glass down on the ledge of the open viewing windows, she swiveled to face the striking man. “What did you have in mind?”

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His smile flashed in the daylight, teeth starkly white against his tanned skin. “Next up is Khareem's match. Now that's going to be something. He has this feud going on with the Malthites, that is his house, house Graphin and house Malthites have a feud. Been going on a fourth of a generation now - something to do with a stolen bucket or something,” he dismissed such trivial matters with a casual wave of his hand, “Regardless, Delick won their last duel, so Khareem's after retribution, and Delick wants to keep his title. I’ll give you a sporting chance by backing Delick. Khareem is one of our own, so you know he's formidable,” he added with a playful wink.

“Ah,” Ravina said in memory, “Khareem is the knight you said was working too hard for this tournament.” She recalled him from the last fight as well. He was skilled, or so she thought, but against everyone else they all fought the same. It's what made the commoner fight so much more exciting. There was real movement to it. Unrefined and savage.

“That's right, it's a small thing, but at some point you have to let your muscles rest.” Fraven nodded. “Although he could have just gotten his hands on a few pots, but I doubt that's what happened.” He gave a shrug as the knights began to stride into the arena, deafening cheers erupting from the crowd. “So, how about it, little lady?” Fraven's voice rose above the din. “But let's not exceed 10 silver, or Varis will skin me alive if I win.”

Ravina’s eyes fell on the man in question, Khareem. He was too distant for a detailed view, so she resorted to the help of a small, sturdy device, activating its magical properties. Much like a touch screen television, she was able to enlarge Khareem’s image by skillfully manipulating the gadget. This instrument, known as a Karmen Box, had limited functionalities—it could merely zoom in and out. In essence, it was a magical version of binoculars embedded into a monitor that could be called into existence with a wave of her hand.

Despite being a pinnacle of magecraft, the concept of recording or marketing these images had seemingly never occurred to its creators. When Ravina had innocently asked if she could keep a highlight reel, the ensuing laughter had left her feeling somewhat foolish, although she still considered it a good idea.

Khareem Graphin, 37th member of the Einzfeder Order was, as with all the knights, a striking figure. Unique in his honey brown skin, this man wore an open helmet of gray steel over his bald head. His knightly armor seemed to fit him better than it did his comrades, accentuating his strong muscles despite the weighty protection. His dark brown eyes were fixed on the knight beside him, a palpable hostility emanating from them. Their mouths moved in silent conversation, exchanging whispers that were inaudible to the audience.

Ravina couldn't help but marvel at the sight. Not only did she appreciate Khareem's imposing figure, but also Fraven's. Glancing around the room, she noted the attractiveness of the other knights, and even Elysia's feminine beauty. "The bar is really set high here, isn't it?" she mused aloud. Momentarily forgetting herself.

Fraven reassured her, oblivious to Ravina's sudden admiration of the knights. "Varis won't object, particularly after your windfall from that woman… What was it? Ah, yeah- from Aurelia's bout."

"Alright," Ravina agreed, nodding at the suggestion. "That should be fine." She withdrew five coins from her coin purse, which was fastened to her belt, and handed them to Fraven.

“Nice, now you’ll get to see what real bets are all about! Ah, here we go.” As Fraven pocketed the coins, the match commenced. No longer were there four simultaneous one-on-one fights. Now, each bout was an isolated duel, which perplexed Ravina. She wondered how spectators would enjoy the match without a large screen. In this packed arena, viewing two individuals battle from a great distance was the norm, no matter where one sat. Only the privileged box seaters were provided with Karmen Boxes.

Yet, the duel was enthralling. The start of the fight brought silence to the box, as everyone settled into their seats, their eyes riveted to the action with vested interest. After several clashes of iron, Fraven mumbled, "That was a solid strike, definitely scored some points there."

"Points?" Ravina echoed, puzzled.

Fraven looked surprised at her query. "Didn't you know?" He shook his head to clear his surprise. "Right, this is a friendly tournament, so determining a winner can be tricky when there's no bloodshed." He gestured towards a smaller box, only large enough for four or five people. "That's the review box over there. They observe the hits and judge their impact based on how damaging the strikes would be in real combat."

"Like that one there!" Fraven exclaimed, drawing Ravina's attention back to the match. "Khareem just landed a hit on Delick's chest plate." Indeed, the strike elicited a roaring cheer from the spectators below, the resonance shaking the boxes above. "It was a well-executed hit, but on armor, it wouldn't be fatal, so it might only be a single point. However, remember your girl's fight? She landed a significant blow on her opponent's wrist. Her blade was blunted, but in a real fight, it could have severed his hand. That could have been worth about ten points. Even if her opponent had managed to knock her out with a single strike, he probably would have still lost."

"Huh," Ravina contemplated, looking at the fight with newfound understanding. The subtle complexities of the duel now apparent, she watched the ongoing battle with a renewed focus.

The fight picked up intensity, escalating from a dignified, disciplined duel into a raw, unyielding brawl. The magnificent upgrade to the tempo stole Ravina’s breath, leaving her enthralled. A palpable silence gripped the arena, punctuated only by the fierce clash of the ongoing melee.