As Valeria and Lucavion returned to Mariel’s inn, the shift in the atmosphere was impossible to miss. The usually lively space was now bursting at the seams, patrons crowding tables and filling every corner. The hum of conversation was louder, more charged, a tension simmering just beneath the surface. Even the air seemed heavier, laden with unspoken questions and hushed speculation.
The moment Lucavion stepped through the door, dozens of eyes turned toward him. Some gazes carried admiration, others suspicion. A few burned with anger, and others lingered with a strange mix of pity and curiosity. The once-private world of the inn had become a public stage, and Lucavion its reluctant star. fгeewebnovёl.com
Valeria frowned, her sharp eyes sweeping over the room. The sudden crowd wasn’t a coincidence. This was the aftermath of Lucavion’s fight with Lira—the whispers of his words, the secrets he had laid bare for the world to see. The very reputation he had built on the arena floor now followed him here, a storm of opinions and judgments that wouldn’t be ignored.
“Seems I’ve made an impression,” Lucavion muttered, his smirk faint but unmistakable as his dark eyes flicked to meet Valeria’s.
She sighed, brushing past him as she made her way toward their usual table by the fireside. It was still free, though it was clear that even here, their presence wasn’t going unnoticed. The weight of the crowd’s stares followed them as they crossed the room, whispers flaring and dying as they passed.
Valeria dropped into her seat, her expression tense as she folded her arms and waited for Lucavion to join her. He took his place across from her with his usual air of nonchalance, leaning back slightly as if the stares and whispers were nothing more than background noise.
“Do you even realize the kind of attention you’ve drawn?” Valeria asked, her voice low but firm.
Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Of course. That was the point.”
She shot him a look, one that carried equal parts frustration and disbelief. “And you’re fine with this? With people watching you like some kind of spectacle?”
He shrugged, reaching for the tankard of water left on the table by a passing attendant. “People always watch. It’s what they do afterward that matters.”
Valeria huffed, leaning forward slightly as she gestured subtly to the room around them. “And what happens when one of those people decides to act? When it’s not just stares and whispers but blades and poison?”
Lucavion’s expression didn’t falter, though his smirk softened slightly. “Then I deal with it. Just like I’ve dealt with everything else.”
Their conversation was interrupted as Mariel herself approached, her usually calm demeanor carrying a hint of unease. “Your meals will be out shortly,” she said, her gaze lingering on Lucavion for a moment longer than necessary. “You’ve stirred up quite a crowd tonight.”
Lucavion’s smirk returned, sharper now. “So I’ve noticed.”
Mariel hesitated, her eyes flicking between him and Valeria. “Just… be careful. Not everyone here is a friend.”
Lucavion inclined his head, his expression unreadable. “Appreciate the warning. But, Miss Little Bear. With you here, I shouldn’t be worried right?”
Mariel’s lips thinned at Lucavion’s casual remark, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded him. “You’re reckless,” she said bluntly, her tone cutting through the hum of the room. “I’ve seen a lot in my time, but I’ve never met anyone like you. You keep this up, and it’s going to get you killed.”
Lucavion’s smirk widened, undeterred. He raised his uninjured hand in a mock toast. “I’m honored to be such a singularity,” he replied, his tone light and teasing. “Hehe… it’s nice to stand out, don’t you think?”
Mariel huffed, her gaze softening despite her irritation. “Really something,” she muttered, shaking her head as she turned to leave. “Just don’t make me regret sticking my neck out for you, Iron Matron or not.”
Lucavion chuckled, watching her retreating form as she disappeared into the bustling crowd. “Ah, Miss Little Bear,” he mused, leaning back slightly. “Always so protective.”
Valeria rolled her eyes, dropping into her seat across from him. “You act like it’s funny, but she has a point. You’re reckless, Lucavion. One day, it’s going to catch up with you.”
“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk softening as he lifted his tankard. “But not today.”
As their meals arrived and the crowd’s whispers continued to buzz around them, Valeria’s sharp eyes drifted to Lucavion’s arm. She frowned, her brow furrowing as she noticed how fluidly he moved it, the earlier stiffness and strain seemingly gone. She remembered the unnatural angle of his shoulder, the swelling, the sheer damage it had endured.
“You shouldn’t be able to use your arm like that,” she said abruptly, her tone laced with suspicion. “Even with a high-grade potion, it should take longer to heal. How did you manage it?”
Lucavion glanced at her, a glimmer of amusement flashing in his dark eyes. “Secret,” he said simply, taking a slow sip from his tankard.
Valeria’s frown deepened, her patience wearing thin. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting,” he replied, his smirk returning. “Some things are better left a mystery, Valeria. Keeps life interesting.”
She stared at him, her frustration mounting as she tried to decide whether to push further. But the smug, unbothered expression on his face made it clear she wouldn’t get anything more out of him. With a huff, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“Bastard…..Out of all things, you can at least reveal this, don’t you think?”
Lucavion’s dark eyes, usually glinting with amusement, locked onto hers with an intensity that caught her off guard. For a fleeting moment, his gaze seemed honest, almost vulnerable—a rarity she wasn’t prepared for.
“Maybe someday,” he said, his voice low, almost tender, “but you’ll need to be much stronger if you want to know that.”
Valeria blinked, her frown deepening. “Stronger?” she echoed, her confusion apparent. “What does that mean? Stronger how?”
But just as quickly as the moment of sincerity appeared, it vanished. Lucavion leaned back in his chair, his signature smirk returning, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper. “It’s not the kind of thing you can rush, Valeria. Let’s just say… it’s a story for another time.”
His dismissal sparked a fresh wave of frustration, but she hesitated, her usual sharp retort catching in her throat. Something in his tone, in the way he looked at her, left her unsettled. As much as she wanted to demand answers, she couldn’t shake the feeling that pushing further wouldn’t yield anything useful.
Instead, she fell silent, her thoughts swirling. ‘Stronger… What could he possibly mean by that? Does he think I’m not capable now? Or is there something more to this?’ Her mind raced, trying to make sense of his cryptic words, but the answers eluded her.
Lucavion, ever the enigma, simply reached for his tankard and took another leisurely sip. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” he said casually, as if their entire exchange hadn’t just thrown her world slightly off balance.
Valeria huffed softly, leaning back in her seat as she tried to push down the strange, gnawing sensation in her chest. But her thoughts remained restless, circling back to his words over and over again.
‘Why does it feel like he knows something I don’t? And why… why does it bother me so much?’
For the rest of the evening, the noise of the inn and the warmth of the fire faded into the background as Valeria wrestled with her unease, her mind consumed by questions she couldn’t yet answer.
*******
The following morning dawned with an air of electric anticipation that crackled through the city. The streets of Andelheim were alive with activity, as people from all corners of the region gathered to witness the grand finale of the Ventor Martial Tournament. Merchants lined the streets, hawking food, drinks, and souvenirs, their voices competing with the cheers and chatter of the throngs moving toward the arena.
By the time the gates opened, the arena was already teeming with spectators. Word of Lucavion’s audacious revelations and his masterful victories had spread like wildfire, drawing even those who had shown little interest in the earlier rounds. The stands filled quickly, the energy of the crowd building to a deafening crescendo as the final match approached.
The arena itself was a grand spectacle, adorned with banners bearing the crest of House Ventor and surrounded by rows of torches that flickered despite the midday sun. The seats were packed to the brim, with nobles, commoners, and foreign dignitaries alike vying for the best view. Even the highest balconies, reserved for the most esteemed guests, were filled with figures of importance, their presence underscoring the gravity of the occasion.
The chants began even before the fighters were announced.
“Varen! Varen! Varen!” The name of the Silver Flame Sect’s rising star echoed through the arena, a powerful wave of support for the fiery prodigy who had dominated his path to the finals.
But then, another chant rose, cutting through the first with equal fervor.
“Lucavion! Lucavion!” The enigmatic swordsman, who had taken the tournament by storm with his boldness and skill, had clearly captured the imagination of the crowd. His unconventional style and sharp tongue had earned him both admirers and detractors, but his name was now a rallying cry for those who sought to see the unexpected prevail.
The two chants clashed in the air, a chaotic symphony of loyalty and excitement that only served to heighten the anticipation.
In the center of the arena, the stage for the final battle stood ready, its surface pristine despite the countless clashes it had borne witness to in the days prior. The air around it shimmered faintly, a testament to the protective enchantments placed by the Marquis to prevent collateral damage from the powerful combatants.
Marquis Aldrich Ventor himself sat in his elevated box, his expression one of composed satisfaction as he surveyed the crowd. His presence alone was a reminder of the tournament’s prestige, and his sharp gaze betrayed his keen interest in the upcoming match. Beside him sat representatives from both the Cloud Heavens Sect and the Silver Flame Sect, their expressions varying between guarded and confident.
Elder Kael, seated among his sect’s representatives, leaned back slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he listened to the chants. “Quite the turnout,” he remarked to no one in particular, his tone light but tinged with satisfaction. “It seems the boy has stirred up more than just the competition.”
Elder Xue, seated with the Cloud Heavens Sect delegation, said nothing, her expression cold and unreadable. Yet her eyes flickered toward the arena with an intensity that betrayed her thoughts.
As the noise of the crowd reached its peak, the announcer stepped forward, his voice magically amplified to carry over the cacophony.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Esteemed guests and honored spectators! Welcome to the grand finale of the Ventor Martial Tournament!”