Novels2Search
The Ascendant Artisan
Chapter 12: Roar of the Arena

Chapter 12: Roar of the Arena

Several hours had passed since the parade had ended, and now we found ourselves heading toward the grand plaza for the king’s speech. The event seemed to divide the crowd into two camps: those who were excited to hear the King's words and those too engrossed in shopping to care. Naturally, my family fell into the former category.

The grand plaza was an impressive sight, even for someone like me who preferred understated elegance. Banners adorned every visible surface, floral arrangements added bursts of color, and at one corner stood a grand stage fit for a king—literally. Surrounding it were knights, royal guards, and a handful of advisors who looked like they’d spent hours perfecting their “regal yet approachable” expressions.

“Quite the setup,” I muttered under my breath, taking in the sheer effort it must have taken to pull this off.

Father overheard and chuckled. “It’s not every day a king addresses his people. This kind of pomp is to be expected.”

He wasn’t wrong. I had no idea how often the King made public appearances, but given the celebration, it made sense to go all out. Still, I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander, observing the crowd around me.

Merchants were shouting, their voices hoarse but their spirits high as they took advantage of the influx of buyers. Children sat wide-eyed on their parents’ laps, staring in awe at the royal guards who stood like statues. Then there were people like me—quietly observing, taking everything in.

Ba-dum!

The steady rhythm of a ceremonial drum echoed through the plaza, silencing the crowd.

“Making his entrance! Your Majesty, King Reginald!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, and a booming chant followed: “Long live Dunvaris!”

On the side of the stage stood an older man, probably in his seventies, draped in a red and gold robe, complete with an ornate crown. Beside him was a younger man, likely his son—his only son, if the murmurs were to be believed—and the presumed heir to the throne.

“Is that the king?” someone whispered nearby.

“He looks sick,” another murmured.

They weren’t entirely wrong. The king moved with the slow, deliberate steps of someone who’d been carrying too much for too long. His face was pale, and the shadows under his eyes suggested sleepless nights. Still, he managed a polite smile and a wave to the crowd, his presence alone enough to command attention.

“Oh look! There’s Clarisse!” Mother suddenly exclaimed, pointing toward the stage.

I followed her gaze and spotted a group of students lined up beside the stage, all wearing matching uniforms. Sure enough, there she was—Clarisse. She looked composed, her uniform neat, her posture confident. When she saw us, her face softened, and she offered a subtle smile and wave.

It had been a while since we last saw her, but something about her seemed different. She had an air of calm maturity now, a far cry from the excitable girl who used to chase me around the house.

“She’s grown, hasn’t she?” Father said, his voice tinged with pride.

“Has she?” Mother replied, tilting her head as though trying to measure Clarisse from a distance.

I watched quietly, unsure if I should feel nostalgic or just impressed. Clarisse looked like someone who belonged up there, standing beside the stage with an air of importance. I couldn’t tell if I admired that or if it made me feel a little smaller in comparison.

The king cleared his throat, drawing all attention back to the stage. The murmurs around me quieted, replaced by the heavy anticipation of his speech.

"People of Dunvaris, my beloved citizens, and honored guests, I stand before you today with both pride and urgency."

He started, and i began to hear what he is about to say as he read a paper from the podium.

"This kingdom, your home and mine, has endured the passage of centuries. Through the strength of our unity, the wisdom of our traditions, and the courage of our people, we have risen to every challenge that dared stand against us.

Yet, even as we gather here in celebration, we cannot ignore the shadows that loom beyond our borders. The predator threat grows with each passing season, their numbers swelling, their attacks bolder. They do not recognize borders, nor do they care for peace. But we—we—stand firm.

It is through the tireless efforts of our defenders that we find safety. The mages, whose mastery over the arcane shields our lands. The swordsmen, who wield their blades with unmatched precision and valor. And of course, the Zero Order, whose names are whispered as legends, even among the fiercest of foes.

To each of you, protectors of Dunvaris, I offer not just gratitude, but a solemn promise: your sacrifices will not be in vain. Together, we will ensure that our kingdom prospers, that it remains a haven for our children and their children to come.

Now, more than ever, alliances will be the key to our survival. I have reached out to neighboring kingdoms, seeking bonds not just of peace but of purpose—bonds that will strengthen our shared defenses against the predators who threaten us all.

But unity does not come without its challenges. There are truths, hidden in the darkness, that I must acknowledge. There are forces that will seek to divide us, to exploit our struggles for their gain. We must remain vigilant—not just against the predators that stalk our lands, but against those who would manipulate the trust and goodwill of others.

Soon, steps will be taken. Strategies are in place to push back the predator tide, to reclaim what has been stolen from us. These measures may seem unconventional. They may even seem harsh. But I ask you to trust in our vision—a vision for a stronger, safer Dunvaris.

For in the shadows, there is both danger and opportunity. In the unknown, there lies a path forward. And though I cannot share all the details today, know this: we will persevere.

With your strength, your resolve, and your unity, we will triumph over any threat. Together, as one kingdom, we will rise above the challenges of the present and forge a future of peace and prosperity.

To the mages, to the swordsmen, to the Zero Order, and to every brave soul of Dunvaris—I salute you. Long live the kingdom of Dunvaris!”

The plaza erupted into deafening applause and cheers as the king concluded his speech, officially kicking off the Days of Renewal. His speech was mercifully short—not that I was complaining. He delivered his message with precision, skipping unnecessary fluff and diving straight into the important stuff. If all speeches were like that, I might actually enjoy them.

“DUNVARIS!”

“DUNVARIS!”

The crowd’s roar was overwhelming, like standing in the middle of a storm of voices. Surprisingly, though, it wasn’t unpleasant. Something about the collective energy made me feel a spark of inspiration, as if the air was charged with the promise of new beginnings.

As the applause faded, the crowd began to disperse, making way for the next event: the duels. This was the highlight for many—mages and swordsmen showcasing their skills before nobles and royalty, hoping to catch the eye of someone powerful enough to change their fate.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“I didn’t expect my little brother to be listening so intently to a speech,” a voice teased from behind me. It was familiar, though slightly deeper and more mature than I remembered.

Turning around, I saw Clarisse, standing with another girl by her side.

Clarisse still had her long, messy black hair and the same sharp, blue eyes as me. Father was right—she had grown taller. At fifteen, she was probably about 5’3 now. Not towering, but definitely noticeable. Considering Victor was 5’8 and Eleanor was 5’4, it seemed we were all destined to hover in the average range. Beside her stood a girl just an inch shorter, with striking green hair. That was a first for me—green hair wasn’t exactly common around here.

“Clarisse!” Mother called out, rushing over to hug her. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine, Mother. Super fine,” Clarisse said, laughing as Eleanor embraced her tightly.

“Well, that’s our daughter after all,” Victor said with a proud smile.

“And who’s this?” Mother asked, gesturing to the green-haired girl.

The girl smiled, waved politely, and gave a small bow. She seemed shy at first glance, her movements careful and restrained. My initial impression was that she might be the quiet type.

I was wrong.

“YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT! I’M YOUR DAUGHTER’S BEST FRIEND!” she shouted, practically leaping off the ground with enough enthusiasm to rival the crowd from earlier. In her excitement, she nearly twisted her ankle, wobbling precariously before catching herself.

She wasn’t shy at all.

Honestly, it was a little embarrassing watching her friend as she so enthusiastically introduced herself—make such a loud entrance. But somehow, her infectious energy managed to make both Victor and Eleanor laugh, and even Clarisse didn’t seem fazed. She must’ve been used to it by now. Her new bestie wasn’t shy at all; she was the human equivalent of a runaway firework.

“By the way, Mother, Father, this is Felicity,” Clarisse said, gesturing to the green-haired ball of energy currently shaking hands with our parents like she was running for office.

“Yup, I’m Felicity! But you can also call me Fely!” she said, her words spilling out faster than her hands could move.

“What an energetic friend you’ve got here,” Father said, scratching his head as he chuckled.

Clarisse sighed in a way that only an older sibling could. She turned to me next.

“How are you, Vonn?” she asked, her tone softer but still carrying that teasing lilt.

Before I could respond, Felicity’s attention snapped to me like a hawk spotting prey. “Oh! Is this the little brother you’ve been talking about?” she asked, her wide eyes practically sparkling.

“Absolutely,” Clarisse replied, crossing her arms. “But don’t tell him I’ve been talking about him too much. He’ll get a big head and start bragging.” She whispered the last part like I couldn’t hear it.

There it was—that classic sisterly jab. It wasn’t anything new, but it still managed to be mildly annoying in that endearing way only siblings could pull off.

“I’ve been good, Sis! Does going to the academy feel exciting?” I asked, ignoring her attempt to rile me up.

“Ohhh! He’s so cuteeeee!” Felicity suddenly squealed, grabbing my face and pinching my cheeks like I was some kind of toddler.

I froze. Not out of fear, mind you, but pure embarrassment. Damn. Is this what humiliation feels like?

Clarisse didn’t help either. She stood there, smirking like she was thoroughly enjoying the scene. “Careful, Fely,” she said, voice dripping with mock concern. “He might combust from all the attention.”

“Right, right!” Felicity said, finally letting go of my poor, abused cheeks. She stood back, clapping her hands. “But seriously, he’s adorable. You didn’t exaggerate, Clarisse!”

I sighed. I couldn’t believe how mortified I felt in that moment. But then again, maybe I just wasn’t used to being someone’s “adorable little brother.”

"By the way, will you two watch the duel?" Clarisse asked our parents, her tone casual but curious.

Victor, ever the charming husband, responded without missing a beat. "Nope. Your mother and I have decided to have a date." He grinned, and, in perfect synchronization, both of them turned their eyes toward me—like I was some kind of obstacle to their romantic escapade.

It’s amazing how parents can guilt-trip you with just a look.

"How about you two? Are you watching the duel?" Mother asked, clearly trying to redirect the conversation.

"Yes," Clarisse replied, nodding. "We’re not required to, but we will. The academy is participating, so it’s kind of expected."

"Hmm," Mother mused, then smiled like she’d just solved the world’s greatest mystery. "Why don’t you bring your little brother along? Let him watch with you."

Wait—what?

"That’s a great idea!" Felicity chimed in, her voice practically sparkling with excitement. Before I could protest, she grabbed my arm like she’d just claimed a prize. "Right? You’d love to come, wouldn’t you?" she asked, leaning in with both eyebrows raised and a smile that was far too persuasive.

Clarisse shrugged, giving me a sideways glance. "That’s fine. We’ll bring him. But do you actually want to watch the duel?"

Ah, there it was—the golden question. Truthfully, I was split. On one hand, watching skilled fighters and mages go head-to-head sounded exhilarating. On the other, the idea of wandering the capital, exploring its hidden corners, and maybe finding another library or art shop held its own charm.

But before I could let my indecision show, I nodded. A duel wasn’t something I could see every day, after all. And besides, it might even give me some inspiration for my own training.

"Great!" Felicity beamed. "You won’t regret it. This is gonna be amazing!"

"Alright then," Clarisse said, already walking ahead. "Let’s go before the seats fill up."

They managed to wave goodbye to Victor and Eleanor before completely disappearing into the crowd. Clarisse had promised she’d celebrate the rest of the Days of Renewal with us in the capital later on. For now, I was tagging along with her and Felicity, on our way to watch the duel.

image [https://static.vecteezy.com/system/resources/thumbnails/034/487/740/small/gold-frame-page-divider-free-png.png]

The coliseum was packed. The roar of the crowd echoed like a storm caught between the high stone walls. People were shouting over one another, placing bets with a kind of enthusiasm that suggested this wasn’t just allowed but fully embraced. I tried not to focus too much on the chaos—it wasn’t exactly my scene.

We found a set of empty seats, and as we settled in, Felicity immediately pulled out a bag of popcorn. She was the type who could make herself at home anywhere, apparently.

“So,” she said, turning to me with a grin, “your sister told me you practice swordsmanship.”

I nodded. “I do.”

“Do you find it fun?” she asked, popping a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Clarisse, who had been scanning the arena, perked up at the question and looked my way, clearly interested in my answer too.

“Hmm.” I paused, considering my words. “Yeah, I find the repetition fun. You might think that’s weird, but the harder it gets, the more exciting it is to learn.”

Clarisse raised an eyebrow, probably because this wasn’t something I’d ever told her before. Felicity, on the other hand, looked impressed, her eyes lighting up as if I’d just revealed a hidden truth of the universe.

Honestly, though, I wasn’t always this way. In my previous life, hard work was something I’d avoid like the plague—unless it involved painting. For art, I’d endure anything. But now, in this new life, I’d come to realize something painfully obvious yet profound: no matter what you want to achieve—whether it’s mastering a skill, becoming wealthy, or just getting better at something—you have to go through a phase of discomfort first. There’s no shortcut. The process is often ugly, but the results? They’re worth it.

Felicity chewed thoughtfully on another handful of popcorn. “That’s... surprisingly deep for a kid your age.”

“Thanks,” I replied dryly. “I’ll add it to my list of achievements.”

Clarisse snorted, clearly amused, while Felicity burst out laughing. “Alright, philosopher,” she said. “But seriously, you should consider writing a book or something.”

“Nah,” I said, leaning back in my seat as the first fighters stepped into the arena. “I’m too busy living the story.”

The duel was nothing short of a spectacle. The first four matches had been... well, let’s just say they were uninspired at best. Two overly cautious fighters poking at each other, followed by someone fainting dramatically when they barely got nicked. I was ready to write the whole event off as a waste of time when someone interesting finally stepped into the arena.

A student from my sister’s academy. Riley, as both Fely and Clarisse eagerly informed me. Apparently, he wasn’t just any student—he was a graduating senior, highly respected, and clearly the star of the academy.

“Here he comes!” Fely practically bounced in her seat, pointing excitedly at the field below.

Clarisse, ever the calm and composed one, leaned in slightly. “That’s Riley. He’s considered one of the top students. The instructors even expect him to join the Royal Guard after graduation.”

I followed their gazes to the arena. Riley looked sharp, his uniform pristine, his stance relaxed but deliberate. Opposite him stood a nobleman, sword drawn, and exuding that overly confident aura nobles often carried. This was going to be interesting.

“A mage?” I asked, gesturing to Riley.

“Yup,” Clarisse confirmed with a slight nod.

“And the other guy is a noble swordsman,” I observed, taking in the ornate embellishments on his armor. “Predictable.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Clarisse said with a sigh, clearly unimpressed by the noble’s flashy presence.

Then, without so much as a countdown, the duel began.

Riley wasted no time. “Slice!” he shouted.

That was it. One word. And before I could fully process what I’d just heard, a massive blade of wind tore through the air, hurtling toward the noble. The force of it kicked up a flurry of dirt, and the noble barely managed to raise his sword in time to block, though the impact sent him staggering.

“What... how?” I stammered, leaning forward in my seat. My eyes widened as I processed what I’d just witnessed.

“One-word chanting?” Clarisse said, equally surprised but more composed.

“Yeah. How is that even possible?” I asked, glancing between her and the arena.

“Riley’s known for his mana reserves,” she explained. “He’s measured at blue—high reserves. With that much mana, he can bypass the usual chanting process for simpler spells.”

Fely, ever the cheerleader, cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “That’s the way, Riley! Show them what you’re made of!”

I had to admit, it was impressive. One-word chanting wasn’t something I’d come across in any of my readings so far. It was efficient, powerful, and, judging by the noble’s expression, terrifying.

For the first time all day, I felt myself getting genuinely invested in the duel. Watching Riley, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever reach that level. One-word chants? High mana reserves? The ability to command the battlefield with just a flick of my wrist? It seemed so far out of reach, but… maybe not impossible.

I managed to steal a glance at Clarisse, her reaction mirroring my own—a mix of surprise and admiration. She was clearly impressed by Riley’s skill, and honestly, it was hard not to be. His calm execution of that earlier spell had been masterful.

But just as I was settling into my awe, the noble swordsman launched a counterattack with startling speed.

“You’re finished,” he declared, his voice carrying the kind of arrogance only a noble could muster.

What followed was a flurry of strikes, each faster and more precise than the last.

"HAHA HAHA What now? You can't answer?" The noble shouted.

Swish. Swoosh. Swish.

The sound of his blade cutting through the air was relentless, each swing forcing Riley into a defensive retreat. The sheer display of swordsmanship was mesmerizing. Quick, powerful, and precise—Riley didn’t even have the chance to chant.

“He fell into the trap,” Fely said suddenly, her usual bubbly energy replaced by an almost unnerving seriousness.

“Who?” Clarisse asked, her tone sharp with curiosity.

“The noble,” Fely replied, a sly grin spreading across her face as she leaned forward, watching intently.

“Blades of wind, tear apart!” Riley’s voice rang out suddenly, clear and commanding.

Wooooosh!

The arena was engulfed in a torrent of wind. For a moment, it was impossible to see anything. The spell had created a thick, white whirlwind that obscured both fighters. Clarisse, Fely, and I were left squinting through the chaos, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening.

Fely crossed her arms and nodded confidently. “Riley’s got this. He’s already won.”

“Typical,” Clarisse added with a smirk. “He’s the academy’s star for a reason.”

As the wind began to settle, the crowd leaned forward in anticipation. Slowly, the duel stage came back into view. And that’s when we saw her.

Standing in the middle of the two fighters was Seraphine, a member of the famed Zero Order. She had been seated near the king just moments ago, but now, she stood at the center of the arena as if she had materialized out of nowhere.

Riley was unconscious, sprawled on the ground. The nobleman wasn’t faring much better—injured and barely standing.

“What just happened?!” Fely shouted, her earlier confidence evaporating in an instant. I was staring at the scene, just as stunned as everyone else.

What the heck did just happen?

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter