“How did you meet Mister Gerald?”
No hesitation, no soft lead-in—just the question, clear and to the point.
Lucavion, to his credit, didn’t seem fazed by the abruptness of her inquiry. If anything, his expression softened, his lips curving into that familiar, knowing grin. But it wasn’t the same playful smirk she had seen earlier. This one carried a hint of something deeper, something that hinted at the weight behind the answer.
He didn’t answer right away, though. Instead, he picked up his glass and took a slow, thoughtful sip, as if collecting his thoughts before he spoke. Mariel watched him closely, her curiosity piqued even more by his silence.
Finally, after what felt like a long pause, he set the glass down and met her gaze with an intensity she hadn’t expected.
“Meeting Master… well, it was out of the ordinary,” Lucavion began, his tone quieter, more introspective than before. “At the time, I had been sent to the battlefield. Not as a hero or anything, just as a soldier.”
Mariel’s eyebrows shot up, her surprise evident. “A soldier?” she asked, her gaze sharpening as she took in Lucavion’s appearance again. He looked young—far too young for something like that. And if he was speaking about a time before this, she couldn’t help but wonder,
how long ago could that have been?
Lucavion’s lips curved into a small smile, one that seemed to carry the weight of many untold stories. As if sensing her unspoken question, he nodded. “Yeah, I was really young back then. Barely more than a boy, and I wasn’t even an Awakened yet.”
Mariel’s frown deepened. The thought of someone like him—still a child, by the sound of it—being thrown into the chaos of a battlefield unsettled her. And to be there without the power or protection of an Awakened… she couldn’t imagine what that must have been like.
“I was sent to fight alongside others, but I didn’t have a choice,” Lucavion continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “It was a losing battle from the start. Most of us knew it. We were just bodies to throw into the fray.” He paused, glancing down at the table, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass. “And that’s where I met him.”
Mariel watched him closely, the pieces of the story slowly coming together in her mind.
Starscourge Gerald
, hiding in a battlefield camp. It didn’t seem like the kind of place someone like Gerald would be, yet that was where he found Lucavion.
“At that time, Gerald wasn’t the legendary figure that people speak of now,” Lucavion continued, his gaze distant as though recalling that moment vividly. “He was hiding out in that camp for reasons I didn’t understand back then. But he found me, in the middle of all that chaos, and he took me under his wing. It was the first time anyone had ever looked at me and seen more than just…..”
There was a brief pause as Lucavion’s smile faltered, his eyes darkening just slightly at the memory. “Anyway. He didn’t approach me right away. He watched, and waited. And then, when the moment came, he made his move—offered to teach me, to show me what I could become. He told me I wasn’t meant for the life they’d forced me into.”
Mariel sat in silence, her mind racing. She could picture it—the boy Lucavion had been, standing on the edge of death in a war he never should’ve been part of. And then Gerald, stepping in like a figure from the shadows, seeing something in him that no one else did.
Lucavion met her gaze again, his expression lighter now, as if the heaviness had lifted, replaced by something more hopeful. “He became my master right there, in the middle of that war. He taught me everything I know now, took me away from that life.”
Mariel took a deep breath, letting the story settle in her mind. She hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected the boy in front of her to have been thrust into such a brutal world so young, nor had she expected Gerald to have plucked him from it. But hearing it now, it made sense. Gerald had always seen potential in the lost, the broken.
“And the rest is history, huh?” she said, her voice softer now.
Lucavion chuckled quietly, the sound low and knowing. “Something like that.”
Mariel nodded, still processing the weight of it all. She had always known that the world could be cruel, but hearing Lucavion’s story—how he had been sent to die as nothing more than a child—only solidified her resolve.
“You’ve come a long way since then,” she said, her tone firm but tinged with a rare warmth. “But I imagine there’s more to your journey.”
Lucavion didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he picked up his glass once more, took a slow sip, and smiled, his expression somewhere between thoughtful and amused.
“Maybe there is,” he said softly, his voice carrying the same mystery as always. “Maybe there’s a lot more.”
Mariel studied Lucavion carefully, her sharp gaze lingering on him as the weight of his story settled between them. She leaned back slightly in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.
“And now?” she asked, her voice low but firm. “Now that your master is no longer here… what are you planning to do?”
Lucavion’s eyes flickered with a familiar glint of amusement, the kind of lightheartedness that masked something far deeper. His lips curled into a smirk, the playful edge returning to his expression. “What am I planning to do?” he repeated, almost as if the question itself amused him.
He paused for a moment, as though savoring the tension between them before answering. Then, with a casual shrug, he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. “I’m here for the tournament,” he said simply, but there was a weight behind his words. “To make a name for myself.”
Mariel raised an eyebrow. “A name for yourself?”
Lucavion’s smirk widened. “I can’t exactly stay in my master’s shadow forever, can I?” His tone was light, but there was a certain seriousness in his eyes that told Mariel this wasn’t just about the tournament. “People knew Master. They feared him, respected him. But me? I’m still just a nobody to most people.”
There was a brief pause as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on her. “So, what better way to start than by standing out here? The tournament is a stage, and I intend to make sure everyone knows who I am by the time it’s over.”
Mariel tilted her head slightly, watching him. His confidence was undeniable, but there was something more behind it—something that hinted at a greater plan. She couldn’t help but admire his ambition, but she also knew that the tournament wasn’t just a game. It was brutal, unforgiving, and filled with competitors just as hungry for victory as he was.
“You’re serious,” she said, more as a statement than a question.
“Dead serious,” Lucavion replied, his smirk fading into something more focused. “Let’s say this is the beginning of something.”
Mariel nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought. “And you think the tournament will give you that? The recognition you’re after?”
Lucavion shrugged again, but there was no doubt in his expression. “It’s a start. If I win—or even get far enough—people will remember me. And from there… well, the path forward gets a lot more interesting.”
Mariel couldn’t help but smile slightly at his determination. There was a fire in him, a drive to carve out his own place in the world. It reminded her of herself when she was younger, fighting to make a name for her family, for her village. And in some ways, she understood exactly where he was coming from.
“You’ve got ambition,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “But ambition alone won’t get you far in that arena.”
“Tutututu…” Lucavion clicked his tongue rapidly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he wagged his index finger at Mariel. The playful gesture contrasted sharply with the seriousness that had filled the conversation moments before.
“Ambition alone?” He shook his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “No, no, no. I don’t just have ambition, Miss Little Bear. I’ve got talent too.” He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Since we all know that ambition without talent is meaningless, don’t you think?”
Mariel raised an eyebrow, her smile deepening. His confidence was undeniable, and while part of her admired it, she couldn’t help but test him a little further. “Talent, huh?” she repeated, her tone light but with an edge of skepticism. “And you think that talent will carry you through the tournament?”
Lucavion’s grin widened. “I don’t think. I
know freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
it will.” His voice was steady, filled with certainty.
Mariel leaned back, crossing her arms as she considered him. He wasn’t just boasting—there was something in the way he carried himself that made her believe he truly meant every word he said.
“But aside from that….There is one more reason I am here at this moment.”