CHAPTER 82: THE RIPPLE OF ONE FIGHT

It was in the afternoon when Lucen was declared the new champion. When he left with Faust, the ordinary people, the spies, the merchants, and the nobles started moving.

Each one of them left with different purposes, but they all had the same person in their minds, and that person was Lucen Thornehart.

The way he fought with different styles was so incredible, and the fight at the end with Faust was unforgettable.

His clash with Faust, in particular, was retold with dramatic flair. Some swore they felt the ground tremble as the two moved. Others said that they moved so fast that they could not keep up with their eyes.

On the side of the ordinary citizens, they went back home and recounted what they saw to their families.

Others went to the local taverns to recount the match to friends, while some began striking up conversations with strangers in their excitement.

A noble child fought against a hardened warrior and won. Not only that, it was the rumored talentless son of the Iron Duke who did it. The way he moved in most matches was like a dance.

On the side of the spies, they returned to their various masters and reported back to them. They recounted what they saw without embellishing anything. Their masters started to rethink a few things and ordered them to continue to monitor Lucen.

As for the merchants, they started weighing the pros and cons of what could happen due to the event in the underground arena. The crest on his coat was not of the Thornehart family but of the growing popular Thornefang.

It was already guessed that Thornehart had something to do with Thornefang, but seeing Lucen’s crest, it was already a fact that they were behind Thornefang.

They now had to make a choice opposing Thornefang, which means opposing the Thornehart Household, or support and ally with Thornefang.

Some merchants immediately began drafting letters, weighing alliances and calculating what trade routes might benefit from Thornefang’s expansion. Others quietly withdrew from deals with Edrim Lysark’s camp, sensing his influence beginning to fade.

The nobles who had watched Lucen fight were also rethinking some of their moves and future plans. The long-expected decline of the North, of Stellhart, was no longer a certainty. In fact, it might never come at all.

They need to reassess who their allies were and who their enemies should be. Some minor nobles who had allied themselves with people against the Iron Duke were starting to feel anxious.

***

By dusk, rumors of Lucen’s battles in the underground arena were the only thing the common people could talk about. They say that the talentless heir of the Iron Duke had an elegant fighting style as if he were dancing with his opponent.

Some said that Lucen was like a demon whose presence made one feel like they were suffocating.

Others say that despite just being a boy, Lucen acted like a real man, taking hits and giving them back tenfold.

As the rumors about Lucen’s victory in the underground arena were spreading all over the capital, even behind the thick walls of the Thornehart mansion, the ripple of Lucen’s victory had reached.

A servant whispered it to a guard, a guard passed it to a knight, and soon enough, the news found its way to the ears of Vardon Thornehart.

’I already knew he was going to the underground arena, but I didn’t expect that he would join in as a fighter.’

Vardon thought to himself as he looked at the knight who informed him of this.

"So, my son has become the underground arena’s champion?"

The knight nodded his head. "Yes, my lord."

Vardon closed his eyes for a moment. Then a faint breath escaped him, neither sigh nor laugh.

"That child truly is quite the troublemaker."

***

Kaelvar Runescar and his daughter were training when they heard the news from one of their knights.

"Hahaha!" Kaelvar’s hearty laugh resounded in the training ground. "It would seem that the son of my best friend and rival isn’t like him at all."

Kaelvar grinned from ear to ear as he looked at his daughter, Elyra. His eyes were practically sparkling with excitement. "Well, not like my lovely daughter is anything like me. I can’t wait to see the young man. How about you, Elyra, what do you think?"

"Is it true that the champion of the arena is more powerful than you, father?" Elyra suddenly asked.

"I would have liked to say that I’m stronger, but I can’t lie to you, my lovely daughter. Faust Kriegerisch is the strongest person I have ever seen. I have not battled him before, since he only fights in the arena, and fighting without my sword really isn’t my style. Still, even without fighting, from what I’ve seen, I know that I’m no match."

"And Lucen defeated such a man in unarmed combat?" Elyra asked in her flat tone as she looked at the person who informed them.

"That is what was said, milady, but it was also said that Lucen could only graze the other party, and Faust conceded after that."

"Even grazing such a master is quite the feat," Kaelvar said happily.

Elyra gripped the handle of her sword tightly. "Let us continue, father." Elyra got back into a fighting stance.

"Heh, it would seem that story has lit a passion in you, my lovely daughter."

The father and daughter once again continued their sparring.

***

The other two Duke households were informed of Lucen’s victory in the arena. In the Judicar household, Elandor Judicar felt that a son of a Duke shouldn’t be spending his free time fighting in such a place.

"I thought the Iron Duke’s son was like him... But perhaps he’s more like that fool Kaelvar."

"Well, he is young, Father. He was also rumored to be quite sickly. Maybe he’s just trying out new things because he’s feeling better."

Evandar, with his prince-charming-like looks, smiled, defending Lucen.

"I’m sorry, my son, it seems that I was too heated. Even now that we’re here, we still don’t know what the king truly wants, and this youngster is just doing whatever he pleases."

"Well, that’s the privilege of youth," Evandar spoke as if he himself weren’t just a fifteen-year-old boy.

***

"Have you heard? It would seem that the young man who created our favorite game seems to have won in the underground arena."

Serephina sat beside her daughter, who was reading another book. Mireya lowered her book, and her violet eyes glanced at her mother. It was hard to tell what she was thinking.

"An intellectual such as him shouldn’t bother with such violent games. He should continue working to create another board game instead."

"Well, boys will be boys. Most of those we call men, even those with intelligence, rather like using violence. I think they do so in order to attract a mate of their choosing, just like some animals. After all, despite how much we have evolved, we are still a form of animal." Serephina answered with a lazy tone.

"Also, I too enjoy watching the occasional fight. It is quite interesting. Who knows, maybe you would find it interesting as well. How about we go and watch a fight in the underground arena tomorrow?"

"Very well, Mother. I guess that those kinds of things are a part of knowledge. I cannot tell if I like something or not, if I haven’t even seen it."

"That’s decided, we’ll make a day of it." Serephina showed a bright smile.

***

In a certain mansion just outside the noble district, Edrim Lysark was throwing expensive vases to the ground.

"What?! That f*cking Thornehart brat is really the one who created that f*cking Thornefang sh*t! Now his name alongside that of Thornefang is all over the city!"

He stormed to the wall, pulled down a decorative sword, and began swinging wildly, shattering furniture, cutting into bookshelves.

"What is happening?! How is everything starting to go wrong?!"

Edrim, who was slowly losing ground because of Aldric Marren’s shenanigans, was furious because the name Thornefang was becoming more and more known.

"I can’t understand it. What is the second prince thinking?!"

The room, warded with runes to prevent eavesdropping, echoed only with his voice and destruction. It was a tantrum no servant would witness, and one he would never show in public. He would never dare say anything against a royal in the presence of another, but here, he can curse all he likes, and it wouldn’t matter.

"The second prince must know that the Iron Duke would never side with him when the time comes. If we continue to make him stronger, wouldn’t we be creating a strong enemy?"

He collapsed into a velvet chair, panting, gripping the sword like a crutch, and sighed. Nothing was going as planned, and he could not do anything about it.

’Is the prince planning something that I don’t know?... Should I make preparations in case he betrays me?’

Edrim started thinking about switching sides or simply leaving the kingdom altogether.