Chapter 75 Journey

Chapter 75 Journey

Liam woke up well rested, without the usual scowl on his face – he barely expanded his mental sphere the previous night, paring moderate cultivation with a well needed rest – before taking a warm bath.

Briefly, Liam inspected his ring. Rogan had gone all out and made him four pairs of blades made from Rank 3 darkness beasts.

After Liam mentioned his participation in the tournament, the blacksmith looked elated to showcase his forging ability in front of an audience.

Liam nodded with a slight smile, before getting ready.

Outside his room, could already sense the commotion of excitement – servants and guards working together to prepare for the ceremony filled the air with a tense anticipation of sorts.

Liam got dressed – a tight elastic shirt that didn't hide his defined muscles – paired with a robe that covered his lower-half. A scarlet sash wrapped around his waist held the clothing together.

His hair was cut shortly, styled to an undercut parted down the middle.

He tucked his scabbards under the ribbon, before leaving his dwelling and heading towards the mansion courtyards – where a large group of expensive carriages were parked.

Low-level guards, butlers and maids looked hectic as they made preparations for the two day journey towards the Regional Stadium.

At the head of the caravan, the highest ranking members of the Royce family comfortably resided – along with the strongest guards that accompanied them – followed by those below them and vice versa.

Apparently, Adrian hadn't spoken to Eve since her arrival at the mansion, which allowed her to travel with the servant's group.

Liam honestly didn't want her to come and see the fights, but she insisted on coming herself.

Meanwhile, Samuel saw Liam approaching and waved at him.

"I'll be traveling with the guards, I'm guessing?" asked Liam, nearing the head guard and remarking the wry look on his face.

'Thought so,' Liam guessed, but promptly said: "I'll be on my way, then."

Liam found the furthest group at the back and joined them. The soldiers were more than a little shocked to find him there, but were happy they had his company.

"Lad! We heard you were participating?" a burly, tall, bald guard said with a smile. "We'll be rooting for ya, just so you know. Do your best not to get embarrassed, haha!"

Liam chuckled alongside the men... but with an icy tone and a side eye, he added:

"Whatever bets you all are making, I better be getting a cut."

Those words caused the guards to tense momentarily, but laugh a moment later.

Soon, the preparations were clear and done – Samuel signaled the carriages to start moving, and the lightning fast Wind Stallions began trotting.

///

Each of the six cities were in a raging uproar.

Nearly all nobles, small-sized to large, paid to see the Regional Tournament. Even those from other regions traveled to witness the event. There were hardly enough seats for everyone, though.

The details of the tournament were simple.

Roughly 24 participants would compete, each representing a ruling family... with the exception of Liam, of course.

Since the geography of the six cities formed a ring of sorts, the stadium was erected upon an empty grassland – it resembled a roman-styled colosseum.

After a whole two days, the Royce family arrived at the arena's location. Normally trips of that distance took an entire month, but the magical beasts hastened them greatly.

Soon enough, the stadium grew visible... and Liam underestimated how big the colosseum was – towering at 8 stories high and made with ancient limestone, the arena had an open top.

'All this wealth for a tournament that won't last longer than a week. Where do these nobles get off?' Liam thought with a shake of his head.

Large entrances were erected at the foot of the establishment, receiving noble guests and contenders separately.

All the rulers had their own special gates, and the Royce family began entering through theirs.

From the long line of carriages, one specific car lagged behind and stopped.

"That's as far as we can go, friend," a skinny soldier said, handing Liam a pitch-black coin with the Royce family insignia on it. "Just show that to the lady behind the desk. Good luck."

Liam grabbed the coin and nodded, before silently exiting the carriage and heading towards the line of youths near one of the gates.

As soon as he did, the men gave each other a knowing look... before starting a betting war.

Meanwhile, Liam silently assessed the competition – slightly older male and female nobles bearing different hairstyles and clothing.

'They all have Rank 3 bodies, pretty much. They've awakened their cores, too,' Liam assessed. That kind of progress wasn't strange, considering the access the rich had to pills and elixirs.

'...None of them have as strong a mind as mine. Not to mention I have the King's Eye. It's winnable.'

Now and again, some of the competitors would shoot Liam a strange, condescending look, to which he replied with indifference.

The line dwindled until it became Liam's turn.

He handed the black coin to the deadpanned woman behind the counter.

"Name and age?" she asked, fidgeting with the coin in her hand.

"...William. Eleven and a half." Liam responded.

"William. Eleven and a half. No family backing. Approved," she concluded, gesturing for one of the arena workers – who wore a purely white servants garment – to guide Liam to his space.

Muffled cheering noises grew louder as Liam entered the colosseum, led to a small room that contained delicious looking food and drink. It looked like a wardrobe of sorts, with drawers and cabinets all around.

Straight ahead, a large, horizontal, rectangular mirror was plastered on the wall.

In the center of the room, Liam could see a circular diagram.

"What's that?" he asked the servant.

"The teleportation matrix, sir. You'll step on that when your bout begins. The event will start in roughly two hours, please let me know if you require anything."

Liam's eyes widened in shock for a minute, before smiling.

'You can do that?'

He lingered for a moment, and inquired with a curious tone:

"...Do you have any masks?"