The first round matches are about to start, so the waiting area becomes crowded with all the participants. However, there is a visible separation of two groups of people - a group where all the participants remain solemn and quiet while another group buzzes the waiting area with discussions about the tournament. Those in conversation would throw glances from time to time at other fighters, making their conversation topic obvious for an outsider.
"Hey… Those three participants are from the Phantom Guild."
"Those? What the… I can't feel a single bit of energy coming from their bodies! Maybe the phantom guild is just a bluff!"
"Are you stupid or what? Maybe they have hidden it! If not, then why are all those high ranks nobles making a fuss over them?"
"But have you ever encountered powerful contestants who hide their power?"
The group looks at the five flashy individuals sitting on two row-benches. They are all the best of the best who gathered for the Midnight Queen. No one dares to sit close since the aura around these contestants is too overwhelming.
If the tournament only offers prizes to third place winners, none of the other contestants would have bothered to participate. However, this year, the lord lavishly prepared prizes even for tenth-place winners, making this tournament worth the risk.
"Maybe they are just bluffing and using their reputation to make themselves feel superior… or else, why would the paladin stay behind while the saintess has entered into the demon continent to deal with the gates?"
The ones that are conversing turn around to see a woman joining their conversation. The four men instantly blush at the sight of a woman coming close to them. They open their circle as soon as they see her and let her sit on a spot to join the conversation.
Soon, the ground starts to tremble. All the contestants can feel the vibration radiating to their bodies. The room becomes noisy, and their attention turns back to the isolated corner of the waiting arena.
Narog, the giant from the Lorian Empire, has stood up to walk towards the place where the phantom guild participants sit. Federline gazes at the curious giant standing in front of him. Narog has gathered whispers around the waiting area, and many wonder if the giant will taunt Federline.
"So, you are the so-called members of the phantom guild? You must be the strongest, but you are so tiny!" Narog glances down without lowering his head.
Federline indifferently looks up while swirling the caramel in his cheek to the other side. Federline's eyes glint, making Narog jolt when an instant shot of bloodlust mixes with his aura. He feels the stare cut through his aura like a sharp knife. However, the shot of bloodlust has been so quick and sudden that Narog is now questioning if he was imagining or not.
Before he could ask, Federline turns his attention to his side. Narog looks to his right. Two men stand beside him, and he has not noticed their coming. He steps away in shock once he identifies that the one right next to him is the paladin.
'What is with this guild and their lack of presence? They are like assassins…"
This puzzles Narog even further. Assassins are not particularly adept at magic, so they have to train to hide their presence since they strike in the shadows. They rely on heavy training to up their power. However, assassins would never enter into a tournament. They are too weak going upfront against an opponent who is adept with magic.
Narog regains his composure and blushes in embarrassment.
'So that is their leader, the holy paladin, Kyrie Gerwyn Rowan. I never expected him to be… eh… beautiful?'
His straight silver hair sits on his shoulders, and his amber eyes glitter like gemstones. The paladin wears rather casual clothes - a white blouse with black trousers and an oversized long jacket over his shoulders.
"Ah! Sorry if I startled you," Kyrie smiles at Narog.
'And a gentle character…' Narog blushes again.
Narog suddenly gets shivers from his spine, and he turns to see his teammate giving him dagger-like stares, signaling him to go back to his seat. The giant clicks his tongue. Before leaving, he looks at the paladin again and returns next to his half-elf teammate.
Once the giant returns to this seat, Federline turns to Kyrie, wondering if something happened for the headmaster to come to this kind of place instead of staying in the VIP room.
"Is something wrong, headmaster?"
Kyrie side glances at the person standing behind him, and Federline looks over to see Lemuel. Lemuel flicks his pupils away from Federline when they meet gazes. Their attention soon gets drawn to the couple sitting beside them from the whispers and chuckles.
"Celine… Are you not going to give me your blessings for the battle?" Sulfrid's eyes twinkle with pleading.
Celine's right eye twitches as she looks reluctant at Sulfrid. They are in public, and she hates showing any kind of affection when eyes are upon them. She looks over to her guildmates, and they are oddly attentive to her family tradition. She flushes and holds her breath as she reluctantly kisses Sulfrid on the forehead.
Then, she chants a spell. Around Sulfrid's body shines lilac particles of light that have a lavender smell. The smell calms Sulfrid's nervousness from the upcoming battles.
"May the god of war, Ku, bless you with the right path of the stream," Celine's face turns red tomato, so she attempts to fan herself to cool down.
Laurel ponders, "Stream?"
Lemuel beams at the chance to shine and answers Laurel's question, "It must be something similar to what my family does. The stream that Celine is talking about should be the natural flow of energy in the world. Every living thing has a mark in the world and a unique type of energy. So, maybe the right path is the energy flow of your target… Or something like that… Although my family blesses for the right destination."
Celine nods, "My family goes to the mountains to hunt, and annually we do that as a hunting game. We have five of the best warriors choose one type of prey and hunt it. So, it has been a tradition for the partner of the warriors to give the blessing. This tournament is out of context, though…"
"It's really effective! I always accomplish the headmaster's assignments with flying colors!" Sulfrid chuckles.
Federline hums and turns to Lemuel. He grabs Lemuel's sleeve, drawing Lemuel's attention to him. Lemuel lets out a laugh of disbelief when looking at Federline's glistening eyes.
"Not happening…" Lemuel looks away.
Federline pouts and yanks the sleeve harder, making Lemuel unbalanced. He tips over to Federline, and his hands reflexively land on the man's shoulders. Watching Lemuel in his embrace, Federline lets out a smile.
Lemuel clenches his lower lip while backing away like he has touched fire. He feels his face starting to sizzle.