Princess Stelle leaned forward in her private champion's box, one leg crossed over the other, her gaze fixed on the arena with intense interest.
The controlled, confident look in her eyes was unmistakable, and it didn't go unnoticed.
Her secretary, a slender figure draped in muted official robes, watched her from the side.
"Your Highness, this is the first time you've looked genuinely excited in ages. It's… refreshing."
She said gently
Stelle let out a quiet hum.
"They've finally brought me something worth watching."
Her voice was casual, but her fingers tapped restlessly against the armrest of her seat.
"I'd almost forgotten this feeling. The thrill… the anticipation. I haven't felt it since my early years in the arena. Back when I fought like I had nothing to lose."
She admitted.
The secretary gave a careful nod, recognizing the rare mood her princess was in. It wasn't often Stelle reflected on the past.
"So… you think the final match will truly entertain you?"
Stelle smirked.
"If he survives. And if he doesn't, I'll hunt him down myself."
Just then, the announcer's voice blared through the arena, cutting across the murmurs of the crowd.
"Next up! The explosive dark horse of the preliminaries—our mysterious humanoid participant—versus last year's finalist, the juggernaut of frost himself, Marnak the Icebreaker!"
The crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and skeptical murmurs. Marnak had been the runner-up last year and was heavily favored to win this time.
But the mysterious humanoid had changed the betting lines. No one could ignore him now—not after the mass aether burst that wiped out most of the competition in a single moment.
The secretary glanced back at her princess.
"What do you make of him?"
Stelle's expression flattened.
"The humanoid? He's not right."
"Not right… how?"
Stelle's eyes narrowed as the two participants entered the arena.
"He's too unstable. That last explosion wasn't power—it was something else. Desperation. Maybe even possession. Either way, it wasn't entirely his own."
She paused, then gave a subtle nod to her secretary.
"Have my guard on standby. If things go sideways, I want them ready."
The secretary didn't argue. She bowed and moved toward the back of the room, beginning quiet preparations.
Down in the arena, the fight had begun. Marnak towered over his opponent, his armored form coated in a glistening layer of frost.
He wasted no time, conjuring jagged spikes of ice and launching them toward the humanoid.
The humanoid dodged—or rather, flinched—his movement jagged, erratic. For a moment, he looked lost. Confused.
Then Marnak's final blast of freezing wind struck him full force, knocking him down. The crowd gasped, assuming it was over.
But that's when it began.
The air around the humanoid warped, the temperature shifting violently. A thin wisp of black aether seeped out of his skin like smoke.
His limbs twitched once—twice—then his eyes snapped open, glowing with unnatural power.
He rose with a stiffness that sent chills through the watching crowd.
"No… not again."
The secretary muttered as she returned to Stelle's side.
But the champion was already standing.
In the arena, the humanoid let out a low growl—guttural and inhuman. His arms stretched, and black claws extended from his hands.
The air rippled, and a sudden boom of aether exploded from his core, just like before.
The frost barriers around Marnak shattered like glass.
Marnak reacted instantly, summoning his aether shield and diving to the side, but it was too late.
The humanoid moved with bestial speed, his claws finding their mark and stabbing directly into Marnak's chest. A piercing cry of pain rang out before silence fell.
The audience stared in horrified awe as Marnak collapsed, unmoving.
A moment passed. Then the announcer's trembling voice echoed.
"W-We have a winner! The humanoid… advances to the finals!"
Stelle didn't smile. Her hands were clenched at her side.
The black smoke began to fade from the humanoid's form. His body twitched again, then slumped forward, as if the energy had drained from him.
The crowd erupted—some cheering, some booing, some whispering rumors of dark magic and forbidden powers.
"Have him followed. If he loses control in the final match, it won't be an exhibition. It'll be a disaster."
Stelle ordered.
The secretary nodded and left again.
Stelle sat down slowly, her expression unreadable.
Her voice, however, was steady.
"This final match… better be worth it."
The crowd was still roaring when the announcer's voice echoed again through the vast arena, this time cutting through the chaos with sharp excitement.
"Ladies and gentlemen! For the first time in Verizon history—your finalists are both humanoids!"
A wave of stunned gasps followed by frenzied applause swept through the stands. The surprise was real—never had two humanoid fighters advanced this far, let alone to the final match.
"Our final match will commence in one hour after a short break. Prepare yourselves for what may become a legendary battle—Nova versus the Nameless One!"
Back in the observation deck, Anna released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her fingers gripped the railing tightly, her heart still thudding from the last match.
She turned to Nova, who stood beside her in silence.
"We should get something to eat. There's no telling how long the final match will go on for, and you've been fighting all day."
Nova didn't argue. He simply nodded once, and the two of them quietly exited the viewing platform along with dozens of other spectators.
All around the stadium, the buzz had changed.
The vendors, who'd been waiting outside the arena during the fights, suddenly found themselves swarmed by excited fans debating the odds of the final round.
Merchants yelled over each other trying to sell food, drinks, and last-minute souvenirs.
Anna passed a bowl of hot broth to Nova and took her own portion, sitting down with him in a quieter corner of the plaza.
She looked up at the big screen flashing highlights of the day's events and tried to lighten the mood.
"I've never seen a crowd like this before. You've turned the whole place upside down."
She murmured.
Nova didn't respond, but his eyes were sharp—focused. He wasn't watching the screen. He was staring back at the stadium.
Anna followed his gaze.
At the far side of the arena, barely visible through the crowd, the Nameless One stood near the exit gate, unmoving.
His clothes were tattered, and dark aether still flickered faintly from his fingertips. His gaze was locked on Nova—unblinking, sharp, and hungry.
Nova met the stare without flinching. The message was clear.
They were both waiting.
Not for food. Not for praise.
Anna shifted uncomfortably under the weight of that stare, even though it wasn't directed at her.
"He's been watching you this whole time. Like he's…waiting to devour you."
She whispered, clutching her bowl tighter.
Nova finally looked away, sipping calmly from his broth.
"Let him watch. I want him to know what's coming."
Anna tried to smile but failed. She'd seen fighters obsessed with victory before—but something about that gaze felt wrong. Twisted. She set her bowl down.
"You'll be careful out there, right?"
Nova rose to his feet.
"I don't plan on losing."
Anna stood beside him.
"Good. Because neither does he."