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Chapter 168: Cloud Heavens

Valeria's mind wandered as she debated over the simple act of buying a meal, and without warning, his face—Lucavion's—flashed in her thoughts. That irritating grin, his mocking tone, the way he had teased her as if her every concern was just some grand joke to him.

'Why him of all people?' she thought, her irritation bubbling up again. His smug face seemed to haunt her at the most inconvenient times, and the fact that he had somehow wormed his way into her thoughts made it even worse.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, her footsteps picking up pace. 'Why am I even thinking about him? Of all things right now...'

Her fists clenched at her sides as she imagined that smirk of his, the one that made it seem like he had everything figured out, like her struggles were nothing compared to the carefree way he seemed to live his life. She hated it.

Before she even realized it, her feet had carried her to the entrance of an inn. Without thinking further, she pushed open the door with more force than necessary and stormed inside, her mood fouler than ever.

But then, the moment Valeria stepped inside, the rich, fragrant aroma of meat and stew hit her like a wave. The blend of spices, slow-cooked vegetables, and savory broth filled the air, and all at once, the anger that had been simmering inside her vanished. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her of just how hungry she was.

'Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all,' she thought, feeling a sense of relief as her mouth watered in anticipation.

She walked over to the counter, still slightly on edge from her previous irritation but now more focused on the delicious smells. The innkeeper, a friendly-looking woman with a warm smile, greeted her with a nod.

"What can I get for you, miss?" the woman asked.

Valeria glanced at the menu briefly, though she already knew what she wanted. "A bowl of stew, please," she said, her voice more controlled now that her mood had improved. "And a juice."

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow, clearly a little surprised by the choice. "No drinkin' today, lass? You look old enough to handle a pint."

Valeria shook her head firmly. "No, thank you. Just the juice."

The woman gave her a curious look but didn't press the matter. Instead, she gestured to the dining area. "Take a seat wherever you like. Your order'll be ready in a few minutes."

Valeria nodded and found a quiet corner near the window. As she sat down, she could feel the tension draining from her shoulders, the warmth of the inn and the prospect of a good meal finally settling her nerves. She couldn't help but smile a little as the smell of the stew continued to fill the room.

As Valeria settled into her seat by the window, she let her gaze wander across the bustling inn. The warm, golden light from the lanterns cast a soft glow over the tables, creating a cozy atmosphere despite the lively hum of conversation. She leaned back slightly, relaxing as she took in her surroundings.

There were a few couples seated together, quietly enjoying their meals, but most of the patrons were Awakened—warriors, mages, and mercenaries, all gathered in the city for the upcoming tournament. Some were deep in conversation, discussing strategies or past battles, while others simply ate in silence, focused on the challenges that lay ahead.

Valeria's eyes were drawn to a group seated near the far corner. They wore matching dark-green robes with a distinct crest embroidered on the chest, marking them as members of the same sect. They seemed disciplined, their postures upright and their movements efficient, even as they ate.

'A sect,' she thought, observing them with interest. She had heard of various sects traveling from all corners of the empire to take part in these kinds of tournaments. Each had their own style of combat, their own beliefs, and their own way of life.

It was fascinating to think about how they compared to her own upbringing as a knight, where honor, discipline, and loyalty were paramount.

As her gaze continued to drift, she noticed another group, this one more eclectic in appearance. They weren't dressed in matching robes, but their auras marked them as powerful. One of them, a tall man with a massive axe strapped to his back, looked particularly formidable, while the others had weapons of various kinds—swords, spears, and even a bow resting by one woman's side.

Mercenaries, most likely. Their loud voices and easy laughter filled the space around them.

Valeria's thoughts returned to the tournament. These were her competitors, the people she'd be up against in the coming days. She would need to stay sharp, to trust her skills, and prove herself not just to her family, but to herself as well.

As she pondered her next steps, the innkeeper approached with her order. "Here ya go, lass. One bowl of stew and your juice. Enjoy!"

Valeria nodded gratefully, her mouth already watering at the sight of the steaming bowl before her. As she picked up the spoon and took her first bite, the rich flavors hit her immediately, filling her with warmth and comfort.

Just as Valeria was about to savor another bite of her stew, the door to the inn burst open with a gust of cool evening air. A group of girls, all dressed in matching robes of deep blue, entered, their voices lively and filled with laughter. They moved as one unit, clearly familiar with each other's company, and the energy they brought with them was palpable.

Valeria immediately noticed the similarity in their attire, the same deep blue robes embroidered with intricate golden patterns along the hems. They all wore a crest on their chests—another sect. The way they carried themselves, confident and synchronized, left little doubt that they were well-trained.

The youngest among them couldn't have been much older than Valeria herself, while a few looked slightly older, perhaps in their early twenties.

"Senior Sister, you were amazing today!" one of the younger girls exclaimed, her voice carrying across the inn as they headed for an empty table near the center.

"Yes, Senior Sister, your technique was flawless! I don't know how you made it look so easy!" another chimed in, her admiration evident as she practically bounced alongside her older companion.

The "Senior Sister" they were referring to walked with an air of quiet confidence. She had a composed expression, her dark hair tied into a neat bun, and her robe was slightly more ornate than the others, indicating her rank within their sect. Despite her juniors' loud praises, she carried herself with the calm, disciplined demeanor of someone who was used to such admiration.

Valeria's eyes narrowed slightly as she observed them, her spoon hovering just above her stew. The energy the group brought into the inn was unmistakable—competitive, youthful, and ambitious. She could tell they were here for the same reason as most others in the city: the tournament.

At the same time, her instincts, honed from years of training and combat, flared as she continued to watch the group of girls. Something about them felt… familiar, though she couldn't quite place it.

Their robes, the way they carried themselves—it tugged at her memory, but the connection remained elusive. Her eyes lingered on the "Senior Sister," the one who seemed to command the respect of her juniors with ease. There was something about her presence that set Valeria on edge.

'Who is she?' Valeria thought, her gaze sharpening. The way the girl moved, how effortlessly she commanded the attention of those around her—it felt like more than just natural confidence. It was something deeper, something dangerous, though Valeria couldn't be sure why she felt this way.

She returned to her meal, though her thoughts remained distracted. Her instincts rarely betrayed her, and they were telling her now that this "Senior Sister" was someone to be wary of. But there was no hard evidence, just a feeling that gnawed at the back of her mind.

As Valeria pondered this, the door to the inn opened again, and another group entered. This time, it was a group of boys, their steps measured, their presence quiet but commanding. They moved with the kind of grace and poise that only came from noble upbringing, each one exuding an air of calm confidence. Their attire was simple but finely made, the quality of the fabric speaking to their status.

Valeria watched them enter, her gaze flicking from one to the other. The room, once filled with the lively chatter of the girls, suddenly grew quieter. The girls from the sect, who had just been laughing and talking, immediately turned their attention to the boys as they entered. The "Senior Sister" remained composed, but Valeria noticed the way her eyes sharpened, just barely.

Tension began to fill the room, subtle but unmistakable.

The boys took a seat at a nearby table, their movements deliberate. But then, one of them, a tall boy with dark hair and a sharp jawline, sneered. It wasn't a loud sound, more of a quiet mockery, but it cut through the now-silent atmosphere like a blade.

The girls exchanged glances, and one of the younger ones, clearly more hotheaded, turned in her seat, her eyes narrowing at the boy. "Who are you sneering at?" she demanded, her voice carrying just enough of a bite to draw attention.

The tension spiked immediately.

Valeria's gaze shifted between the two groups, her instincts flaring again. Whatever was about to happen, it wasn't going to end with just words.

The boy who had sneered leaned back in his chair, his expression still mocking as his eyes lazily swept over the group of girls. "Just observing," he said, his tone casual, but there was a clear disdain in his voice. "Didn't realize that [Cloud Heavens Sect] was sending children to the tournament this year."

And the moment Valeria heard the name, her ears immediately perked up.

Cloud Heavens Sect was a famous sect, after all.

Chapter 169: Lira and Varen

Hearing the name Cloud Heavens Sect, Valeria's thoughts clicked into place. Of course—that's why the presence of that "Senior Sister" had felt so familiar.

This sect was renowned across the empire for its strict discipline and powerful disciples.

And if her instincts were correct, this Senior Sister was none other than [Lira Vaelan], known as the Silent Thunder. Her reputation was well-earned, as both a skilled fighter and a composed leader.

Valeria nodded to herself, her suspicions confirmed. Lira Vaelan wasn't the type to lose her composure over petty insults, and that much was evident in the way she handled the situation now.

"There's no reason for us to lower ourselves to such provocations," Lira said calmly, her voice steady and measured. She remained seated, her hands resting lightly on the table in front of her, not even sparing the boys another glance.

Her control over her emotions was impressive, the mark of someone well-versed in managing both her peers and her rivals.

At least, that will be how she saw the girl.

The younger girls around her bristled, clearly not as calm as their Senior Sister. Valeria could see the frustration flickering in their eyes, their hands tightening into fists under the table. They were itching to respond, but none of them dared defy Lira's lead. She had set the tone, and it was clear that they were expected to follow her example.

But, the silence was once again broken, this time by the leader of the group of boys. "Indeed, you wouldn't lower yourself to such provocations," he said, his tone calm but laced with something far sharper. His gaze locked onto Lira, his eyes burning with a faint but unmistakable anger. "But you'd lower someone else's pants while having a fiancé, wouldn't you?"

The moment the words left his mouth, the entire room seemed to freeze. A cold, biting chill filled the space, but this wasn't the same kind of tension as before. This was something far more personal, far more dangerous. The kind of cold that cuts deeper than insults ever could.

Lira, for the first time since the confrontation began, showed a flicker of something—whether it was shock, anger, or something else entirely, Valeria couldn't tell. But her previously calm demeanor wavered, just for an instant.

Valeria's eyes darted around the room, catching the reactions of the other patrons. Whispers broke out like a ripple in the silence, hushed voices murmuring about what had just been revealed.

"Did you hear that? He said something about a fiancé…"

"That must be Varen Drakov from the Silver Flame Sect, right?"

"They were engaged to settle the feud between the sects, weren't they?"

The air in the inn grew even colder as the weight of the accusation settled over the room like a suffocating blanket. Valeria could feel the shift in the atmosphere, the tension so thick it seemed to press down on everyone present. She could see the ripple of shock moving through the crowd, the whispers growing louder as the significance of the boy's words began to sink in.

Lira Vaelan, the Silent Thunder, had always been the picture of composure, strength, and discipline. But now, that calm exterior had cracked, if only for a moment, and everyone in the room noticed it. The whispers continued to swirl around Valeria, fragments of the story piecing together in her mind.

The Cloud Heavens Sect and the Silver Flame Sect… of course, Valeria thought grimly. Those two sects had been at odds for years, locked in a bitter rivalry that had cost both sides much in blood and resources. The animosity between them had been so deeply ingrained that most had believed the feud would never end.

But then the leaders of both sects, tired of the endless fighting, had agreed on an arrangement—one that could potentially bring peace.

An engagement.

Lira Vaelan, the brilliant daughter of the Cloud Heavens Sect, had been betrothed to Varen Drakov, the prodigy of the Silver Flame Sect. It had been a marriage of convenience, meant to end the centuries-old feud and unite the two powerful factions. Both sects had celebrated the union, seeing it as the dawn of a new era.

But the peace had not come.

Just as the feud was about to be settled, Varen had discovered something that shattered the fragile arrangement. He had caught Lira in an illicit relationship with a man from her own sect—a fellow disciple, the son of a powerful elder within the Cloud Heavens Sect.

Varen, driven by rage and betrayal, had found them together and, in a moment of fury, beheaded the man right in front of Lira's eyes.

The memory of that moment, of the blood staining the ground and the look of horror on her face, still haunted those who had witnessed it.

That single act had not only destroyed the engagement but had reignited the flames of hatred between the two sects, making the conflict worse than it had ever been before.

Valeria could feel the weight of that history pressing down on the room as the murmurs grew louder, the other patrons whispering feverishly about the scandal. The fact that Varen Drakov, the very man who had once been Lira's betrothed, was standing here, openly mocking her in public, only deepened the wound.

Varen leaned back in his chair, his sneer widening as he watched Lira struggle to maintain her composure. His voice, dripping with venom, cut through the whispers like a blade. "No response, Lira? Or are you going to deny what happened? Or perhaps…" His gaze flicked over her coldly, "you've already moved on. Well, I guess that would be expected from a whore like you.

You must have gone for someone else's pants already."

Lira's breath hitched, her jaw clenched tightly, but still, she said nothing. The tension between the two sects had escalated to a dangerous level after that incident, and any wrong move could set off another confrontation, perhaps even here in this very inn.

Valeria shifted in her seat, her eyes narrowing as she observed the scene unfold. This was more than just a personal grudge—it was a powder keg waiting to explode. She knew that if someone didn't intervene soon, the situation could spiral out of control, dragging everyone in the room into the conflict.

But before anyone could make a move, one of Lira's juniors, unable to contain her anger any longer, slammed her fist on the table. "You have no right to speak to our Senior Sister that way!" she shouted, her voice trembling with fury.

Varen's eyes gleamed with cold amusement as he turned his gaze toward the junior disciple who had dared to speak. He leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with her, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Was there anything I said that was wrong?"

The junior disciple, despite the clear power imbalance between them, held her ground. Her face flushed with anger as she stood, fists clenched at her sides. "Of course!" she shot back, her voice rising with indignation. "If she turned to another man, it only shows that you weren't capable enough to keep her by your side. You should have done better!"

Varen's eyes gleamed dangerously as he turned his attention to the young disciple who had spoken. His smirk remained, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that made the air feel colder. He tilted his head slightly, his voice dripping with mockery. "Is that so?" he asked, his words slow and deliberate. "And you believe that? If she went behind my back, it was my failure to keep her satisfied?

Is that your logic?"

The girl, though visibly trembling, stood her ground, her chin raised defiantly. "Yes! If a woman leaves, it's because the man wasn't strong enough to keep her loyalty. He failed her! If you were truly worthy, she wouldn't have looked elsewhere."

The words echoed through the inn, and for a moment, everyone went silent.

Varen's sneer vanished, replaced by a cold, dangerous expression. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy, the tension now at its breaking point. The other disciples of the Cloud Heavens Sect braced themselves, while Varen's companions, the boys from the Silver Flame Sect, stiffened at the perceived insult to their leader.

Valeria felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her. The girl's retort had been bold, but reckless. She didn't know if the young disciple truly believed what she was saying, or if she was simply defending her Senior Sister in a moment of heated emotion, but it didn't matter. The words were out, and there was no taking them back.

Varen's lips curled into a cruel smile as he stood from his chair, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming the space. "Is that so?" His voice was low, menacing. "You think this is a matter of my capability? You think I wasn't enough?"

The girl flinched but didn't back down, though her defiance was beginning to falter under Varen's cold stare.

Before things could escalate further, Lira finally spoke, her voice quiet but steady. "Enough."

All eyes turned to her.

Lira stood from her seat, her posture rigid and her face composed, though Valeria could see the storm of emotions swirling behind her eyes. "There is no need to continue this," Lira said, her voice carrying a weight that silenced the room. She looked directly at Varen, her gaze hardening. "This was between us, and it should have remained that way.

But you continue to spread your venom because you cannot let go of the past."

Varen's sneer returned, though his eyes burned with barely concealed fury. "The past?" he repeated mockingly. "You betrayed me, Lira. Betrayed our sects, our families. And you think you can stand here and talk about the past as if it's some distant memory? No, I'll never forget what you did."

Lira's expression didn't change, though Valeria could see the tension in her body. "I didn't betray you," she said evenly, her voice sharp and cold. "I made my choice, and you made yours."

Varen's gaze darkened. "As expected…..When it comes to deceiving, there is no one else better than a whore."

Chapter 170: Lira and Varen (2)

"As expected…..When it comes to deceiving, there is no one else better than a whore."

Varen's sneer deepened, his words dripping with cruelty as he stepped closer, his voice low but carrying throughout the room. "Even though your choice cost you the life of the man you supposedly 'loved,' it seems you no longer care, do you? It makes sense, though. After all, you were just playing with him like a toy. You never loved him. You were never capable of it."

The words cut through the air like a blade, sharper than any sword. For a moment, the room went deathly silent, and even the whispers died out. Valeria's breath caught as she watched Lira, her eyes widening slightly as she sensed the shift in the air. The calm, composed mask that Lira had worn for so long began to crack.

The insult struck deep, too deep for Lira to contain the emotions she had held back for so long. The calm exterior she had maintained shattered in an instant, replaced by a surge of fury that she could no longer suppress. Her body moved before her mind could catch up, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword.

"How dare you!" Lira's voice exploded with a fury that echoed through the inn as she drew her sword with lightning speed, the blade gleaming in the lantern light as it sliced through the air, aimed directly at Varen.

The force of her strike was fueled by a whirlwind of emotions—anger, betrayal, grief—all coalescing into that single moment. The room erupted into chaos, chairs scraping against the floor as patrons scrambled to get out of the way.

Varen's eyes widened in shock, but he reacted quickly, raising his blade.

CLANK!

And then, at that exact moment, the sound of blades clashing echoed throughout the room.

SWOOSH!

The clash of blades reverberated through the room, and in that moment, the deflected sword energy shot out wildly. It spiraled toward Valeria's side, and before she could fully process what was happening, she felt the wave of energy closing in on her.

With a sharp intake of breath, she quickly shifted, her body reacting instinctively. She dodged the strike, her chair scraping against the floor as she moved. The mana-infused energy slammed into her table with a loud crash, sending her meal flying and splattering the remnants of her stew across the floor.

Valeria's frown deepened as she straightened herself, her eyes narrowing in annoyance at the ruined meal. The once-warm, comforting atmosphere of the inn had been replaced by chaos, and now, her meal lay scattered in pieces around her feet.

'Of all the things...' she thought, her patience wearing thin. She glanced toward the source of the commotion, where Lira and Varen stood locked in their confrontation, completely oblivious to the damage they had caused.

Lira's chest heaved with rage, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword tightly as if the very act of holding it could somehow control the torrent of emotions she was feeling. Her once calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a raw, visceral anger that had been buried for too long.

Valeria clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to intervene directly.

"How dare you speak of him like that!" Lira shouted, her voice trembling with fury as she raised her sword again, the blade glinting dangerously. Her eyes burned with an intensity that sent a ripple of fear through those watching.

Varen, though clearly surprised, quickly regained his composure. His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he straightened, his hand resting on the hilt of his own sword. "Oh? It seems I've struck a nerve," he said mockingly, the cold amusement in his voice only fanning the flames of Lira's rage.

Just as Lira and Varen seemed poised for another clash, a booming voice cut through the tension. "Enough!"

The inn fell into a sudden, heavy silence as all eyes turned toward the source of the voice—the innkeeper, her face twisted in fury. She stood at the far end of the room, her arms crossed, but it was the powerful aura of mana radiating from her that sent a chill through the air.

Her usually warm and welcoming demeanor was gone, replaced by the stern authority of someone who was clearly not to be trifled with.

"How dare you mess with my inn?" she growled, her eyes narrowing at both Lira and Varen.

A ripple of shock passed through the room. Valeria, too, raised an eyebrow in surprise. She had never expected such a strong pressure just from the voice of the innkeeper.

'Just who is this?'

Apparently, even the innkeepers in this city were not normal.

Lira's eyes widened slightly as the realization of her mistake hit her. Varen, who had been grinning smugly moments earlier, stiffened. The weight of the innkeeper's presence was unmistakable, and for the first time, both of them seemed to understand just how out of line they had stepped.

After all, they had forgotten who the owner of this inn was and her title.

[The Iron Matron]

Varen was quite quick with a response. "I didn't do anything," he said smoothly, raising his hands in a mock gesture of innocence. "She attacked me. The only thing I did was speak my mind… and the truth."

The innkeeper's eyes flashed with irritation, clearly not buying his attempt at deflection. She stepped forward, her mana flaring briefly, causing a few of the weaker patrons to instinctively step back. "I don't care about who started this bullshit," she said, her voice low but menacing. "You're out. Now."

Varen opened his mouth to protest, but the innkeeper silenced him with a sharp glare. "Out," she repeated, her voice carrying the weight of finality. Her mana swirled around her like a storm, and even Varen knew better than to push his luck further. With a frustrated sigh, he motioned for his group to follow him out, muttering curses under his breath as they exited the inn.

As soon as they were gone, the innkeeper turned her sharp gaze to Lira and her group of disciples. "You…..You will not leave here without paying the damages."

The Iron Matron, her arms still crossed, began to walk slowly through the inn, her sharp eyes scanning the room as she assessed the damage. Her gaze lingered on the broken table, the scattered remnants of food, and the spilled drinks. She shook her head slightly, her expression hardening as she mentally tallied the costs.

She came to a stop in front of Lira and her group, her eyes narrowing as she locked onto Lira. "This is going to cost you," she said, her tone firm and without room for negotiation. "For the damages, the meal, the table, and the inconvenience to everyone here… I'd say you owe me a solid five hundred crowns."

A few of Lira's juniors gasped in disbelief, clearly unhappy with the amount. One of the younger girls opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say a word, the Iron Matron's gaze snapped toward her, silencing her instantly.

"Five hundred crowns," she repeated, her voice cold. "And you will apologize—each and every one of you—for the disruption you've caused here tonight."

The younger girls exchanged uneasy glances, some of them bristling at the way the innkeeper's tone bordered on patronizing. One of them, her face flushed with embarrassment, muttered under her breath, "We didn't start this…"

But before she could finish her complaint, Lira raised a hand, silencing her. The Silent Thunder stood tall, her expression composed but weary. She knew the price of her actions, and she wasn't about to make the situation worse. With a nod, she turned to the Iron Matron. "We will pay for the damages," she said, her voice steady. "And we will offer our apologies."

The Iron Matron's hard gaze softened only slightly as she stepped back, her arms crossed once more. "Good," she said, her tone final. "Make sure you don't cause any more trouble in my inn. I won't be so lenient next time."

Lira nodded again, and without hesitation, she stepped forward, addressing the room. "We deeply apologize for our behavior and the disruption we caused," she said, bowing her head respectfully.

Most of the people, though still somewhat tense, nodded their heads in acknowledgment, willing to move on from the confrontation now that the situation had been diffused. But then, as her eyes traveled toward the corner of the inn, they landed on Valeria.

Valeria sat at her now-ruined table, her expression calm but her demeanor unmistakable. Lira could tell at a glance that she was of noble standing. The way she carried herself, even in the aftermath of the chaos, spoke volumes about her background and composure. It was clear to Lira that this was no ordinary patron.

Her eyes flicked briefly to the spilled meal and the overturned dishes. Without hesitation, Lira approached Valeria, her steps measured and deliberate. When she reached her, Lira bowed slightly, her voice soft but sincere. "I deeply apologize for the inconvenience we've caused you," she said, her eyes meeting Valeria's. "It seems your meal was ruined because of us."

Valeria, her gaze steady, simply nodded, not yet offering a response.

Lira straightened, her expression still composed despite the fatigue evident in her eyes. "Allow me to compensate you for the meal you couldn't have," she continued. "If you don't mind, I would also like to accompany you during the meal. It's the least I can do to make up for what happened."

As for Valeria….She just stood there.

Since she had not encountered such a thing in her entire life before.

Chapter 171: Lira and Varen (3)

Valeria stared at Lira, her thoughts racing. She had never been in a situation like this before—alone, dealing with someone who had just been publicly humiliated in front of a crowd. She thought back to Varen's words, the venom he had spit so effortlessly, and a seed of doubt began to take root.

If what he said was true, then Lira—no matter how composed or apologetic she appeared now—was someone without dignity. The fact that she had engaged in an affair, while already promised to another, spoke volumes about her character, at least in Valeria's eyes.

Lira might have been bowing her head now, offering compensation with all the right words, but Valeria couldn't shake the feeling of distaste.

Her instincts as a warrior and a noble warned her against accepting this offer. The girls surrounding Lira, too—there was something about them that made Valeria uncomfortable.

They seemed frivolous, all talk, and lacking the discipline she was used to seeing in those who followed someone of rank. It grated on her nerves.

No, she couldn't ignore her instincts. She should not.

That is why, with a polite but firm tone, Valeria finally responded, "Thank you for the offer, but there's no need. I will manage on my own."

Lira's expression didn't change much, though a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. She nodded, clearly sensing the finality in Valeria's words. "As you wish," she said, stepping back slightly. "I apologize once again for the trouble we caused."

Without further words, Lira turned and rejoined her group, leaving Valeria to her thoughts.

As Valeria sat in the quiet aftermath of the confrontation, her thoughts drifted back to the moment when Lira had drawn her sword and struck at Varen.

That slash—it had been quick, but the power behind it was undeniable. Even though it was just a single, emotionally driven attack, it had been filled with mana, crackling with intensity.

Valeria couldn't help but wonder: If she had been the one facing that blow, would she have been able to defend herself as effortlessly as Varen had? Probably not. That kind of energy would have left her at least bruised, if not worse.

The realization settled uneasily in her chest. She had always prided herself on her skills, her training, her discipline. But here, in this city, surrounded by people from all walks of life—Awakened fighters, sect disciples, noble heirs—she was beginning to see just how vast the world was. How many people out there possessed strength she couldn't yet fathom?

And then, her thoughts shifted to that infuriating man—Lucavion. She hated thinking about him, but she couldn't deny the impact their duel had left on her.

He was also young, like her, but unlike anyone she had faced before. Always careless, always grinning as if everything was a joke, but the way he wielded his sword was nothing short of dangerous.

His movements had been fluid, calculated, as if every strike was meant to kill, even when he was only toying with her. And then there was that strange starlight mana—powerful, otherworldly, and far beyond what she had encountered in any of her training.

'This world…..I was really narrowminded….thinking that I was something while I was nothing but a frog in the well.'

In a short time, she had crossed paths with people whose power was leagues beyond her own. First, Lucavion, and now, Lira and Varen. These encounters made her realize how much further she had to go, how much more she needed to push herself if she wanted to stand on equal footing with the truly powerful figures in this world.

Her instincts had been right—this tournament would be a chance for her to grow, to prove herself. But now, more than ever, she understood that this path wouldn't be easy. She would have to face opponents who had lived their lives surrounded by conflict and power far greater than what she had seen within her family's walls.

But she rather liked this weird feeling.

********

The moon hung high over Andelheim, casting a silver glow across the city's winding streets. The festive clamor of the day had faded, replaced by a more sinister quiet. Beneath the bustling surface of the tournament, shadows moved in places where prying eyes seldom ventured.

Deep within the dimly lit halls of an ancient tavern, tucked away in the lower districts of Andelheim, two pairs of fierce eyes gleamed in the darkness. They sat at a private table near the back, their faces obscured by the hoods of their cloaks, illuminated only by the flickering candlelight.

Across from them stood a man in fine but muted clothing. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an undeniable intensity in the way he spoke. His eyes flitted between the two figures, gauging their reactions.

"You both know why we're here," he began, his fingers tracing the edge of a small map laid out on the table.

The figures shifted slightly, their eyes never leaving the man, their attention sharp.

"The top two spots," he continued, "that's what you're after. It's not just about glory; it's about power. Influence. And the favor of the Ventor family itself. Do you understand what that means?"

The man's voice lingered in the air, heavy with authority and menace. The two figures, sitting across from him, remained silent. Beneath the hoods of their cloaks, their eyes gleamed—not with excitement or determination, but with hatred that burned as fiercely as the candlelight that illuminated their faces.

One was a young boy, barely in his teens, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared at the man with a mix of anger and fear. His fists were balled beneath the table, trembling ever so slightly. Next to him, his older sister sat, her body still, but her fierce gaze told of a rage that she was barely able to contain.

She was a few years older, her face marked by exhaustion and the weight of what they had been through.

Slaves. That's what they were.

Captured in a raid years ago, taken from their home, and sold like cattle, they had been trained in the most brutal of circumstances. Their lives were a cycle of pain, obedience, and fighting. The man standing before them had made sure of that. He had bought them, trained them, and conditioned them for one purpose—to win, to fight, to serve.

"You will compete in the tournament," the man repeated, his voice as cold as the steel sword he always carried at his side. "And you will take the top two spots."

The girl's eyes narrowed beneath her hood, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of the table. Her thoughts screamed to lash out, to fight back, but she knew better. Both of them did. The marks on their backs were a constant reminder of the consequences of defiance.

"And if we don't?" the boy finally spoke, his voice trembling but defiant. His sister shot him a warning glance, but it was too late. The man's lips curled into a cruel smile.

"You know exactly what will happen if you fail." He leaned closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "If you don't secure the top two spots, then they will pay the price. Do you want that?"

Both siblings flinched, their eyes briefly meeting before they looked away. They knew what he meant.

They had witnessed such punishment before, and the memory still haunted them. The man had made sure they saw it. He had forced them to watch, so they would understand just how high the stakes were.

The girl's throat tightened, and she forced herself to speak. "We'll do what you ask," she said, her voice low, devoid of emotion. It was the voice of someone who had no choice.

The man straightened, satisfied with her response. "Good. Very good."

He turned, preparing to leave, but paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "Remember, your lives are not the only ones at stake here."

With that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving the siblings in the dim light of the tavern.

The boy sat motionless, staring at the table, his fists still clenched. His sister reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "We have to," she whispered, though her voice was hollow. "We have to win."

The boy's eyes burned with tears he refused to shed. "I hate him," he muttered. "I hate all of them."

"So do I," his sister replied softly, her hand tightening on his arm. "But we can't let them hurt anyone else. We'll fight. And we'll win."

They sat there in silence for a long while, knowing that the tournament was their only way forward—though it was a path paved with blood, pain, and desperation. They were bound by chains they couldn't see, forced to fight not for glory or power, but for survival.

And though they hated it, they knew they had no other choice.

Chapter 172: Lira and Varen (4)

At the evening of the Andelheim, Varen and his group made their way down the dimly lit streets, the sound of their boots echoing against the cobblestones, the tension from the inn still lingering in the air. Most of them walked in silence, their minds replaying the events from earlier, unsure if they were supposed to feel victorious or uncomfortable.

Finally, one of the younger men, a boy with short brown hair and a firm expression, cleared his throat, breaking the silence. This was Darius, the second strongest in the group, someone who had earned respect through his solidified power within the ranks. His voice cut through the quiet. "Varen," he started, his tone calm but challenging. "Did you really need to do that?

I mean… didn't you go a little overboard back there?"

The other men glanced at each other, tension rippling through the group. The air grew colder as all eyes turned toward Darius, sensing the confrontation brewing.

Varen, who had been walking at the front, came to an abrupt halt. His back stiffened, and he slowly turned around, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Darius. The rest of the group fell silent, the weight of the moment heavy as Varen's expression darkened.

He took a slow step forward, his presence suddenly more menacing. "Overboard?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "Are you suggesting I was wrong?"

Darius, unlike the others, didn't falter. He met Varen's gaze with a glare of his own, his resolve unshaken. "I'm saying it didn't have to go that far," Darius responded, his voice steady. "Dragging up the past like that, in front of everyone—what were you trying to prove? You think that was necessary?"

Varen's lips curled into a mocking smirk as he took another step forward, his voice dripping with condescension. "Sensitive things, huh? You're defending her now?"

Darius's jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving Varen. "No, I'm not defending her," he replied firmly. "But there's a line. And you crossed it."

Varen's smirk vanished, replaced by cold disdain. "Listen carefully," he said, his voice sharp as a blade. "That woman deserves worse for what she did. I only spoke the truth, and if you think for a second that I went 'too far,' then you don't understand what betrayal feels like."

Darius's gaze hardened. Unlike the others, he didn't flinch. "I understand what betrayal feels like," he said, his voice cold. "But I also know that dragging it out in front of everyone like that won't give you the satisfaction you're looking for. All it does is stir up more trouble."

"It is really clear that you don't," Varen said and didn't wait for an answer. He leaned in slightly, his voice growing harsher, more intense. "How would you deal with this feeling, huh? The burning inside, every day, every night? Would you just swallow it down? Pretend like nothing happened?

Just watch as that bitch walks around, living the life she wants without any consequences?" His tone turned sharp, almost venomous. "Is that what you'd do? Just sit back and accept it?"

Darius's expression remained firm, his jaw tight as he met Varen's venomous words head-on. He didn't waver, even as Varen's intensity seemed to burn hotter with each word. "I wouldn't do it like this," Darius said, his voice steady but laced with conviction. "There are better ways to deal with betrayal, Varen. The best way is not to let it consume you. You can't let it eat away at you like this."

Varen's eyes flashed with cold anger, his lips curling into a sneer of pure disdain. He took a step closer, his gaze cutting into Darius like a blade. "And that's exactly why spineless bastards like you let women like her walk all over you," he hissed, his voice dripping with contempt. "Because of weak men who are too afraid to act, they think they can do whatever they want and get away with it."

Darius's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, letting Varen continue his tirade.

"If they're not held accountable for their actions," Varen went on, his voice growing more intense, "they'll keep doing it. Over and over again. Betraying, lying, destroying lives—without a second thought. You think there's a 'better way' to deal with it?" He shook his head, disgust evident in his tone. "No, the only way is to make them feel it. To make them suffer the consequences of their actions.

Anything less, and they'll keep doing it."

The silence between them was thick with tension, the rest of the group watching from the sidelines, unsure whether to intervene or stay back. But Darius didn't back down, his gaze still locked with Varen's. He knew there was no reasoning with someone as consumed by vengeance as Varen was, but he wouldn't stand for being belittled for choosing a different path.

"The only thing consuming you," Darius finally said, his voice calm but resolute, "is your own rage. And it's not going to end well for you, Varen."

Varen's sneer deepened, but he didn't respond. He just turned on his heel, his anger simmering beneath the surface as he started walking again, his frustration palpable.

As for Darius…

He just watched his friend with a sad gaze.

*******

On the other side, a group of girls moved in a tight-knit formation, their robes fluttering in the night breeze. Despite the quiet of the streets, the murmur of their voices was filled with frustration and resentment.

"He's such a bastard. How could he speak to you like that, Senior Sister? It's disgusting."

"He has no respect for anyone. The way he insulted you in front of everyone like he thinks he's better than the rest of us… I wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face."

Lira remained silent as they walked, her mind still replaying the events at the inn. Her fingers were still wrapped tightly around the hilt of her sword as if she hadn't quite let go of the anger she had felt earlier.

"It's not just that. He thinks he can just say whatever he wants because of who he is. I don't care if he's from the Silver Flame Sect. No one talks to our Senior Sister like that!"

The murmur of frustration continued to ripple through the group of girls as they walked, their emotions still high after the confrontation with Varen. Mira, one of the more outspoken disciples, glanced at her companions, her eyes narrowing with barely-contained anger.

"You know what I think?" she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "He acts all tough and arrogant, but I bet he's terrible in bed. That's probably why he's so bitter and angry all the time. He has to compensate for something."

The other girls snickered at her remark, a small release of the pent-up frustration they'd been feeling. Aira, always quick to join in, chimed in with a sharp grin. "Small man with an even smaller… you know." She wiggled her fingers mockingly, causing more laughter from the group.

"I mean, it makes sense, right?" Nira added, shaking her head in exaggerated sympathy. "Guys like him, all bark and no bite. Overcompensating for what they don't have."

Mira smirked, tossing her hair back as she continued, her voice gaining a sarcastic edge. "That's probably why Lira didn't want anything to do with him. She could sense how pathetic he really is."

The group erupted in laughter, their voices echoing through the quiet street. Even Lira, who had been silent for most of the walk, couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Though she had been trying to stay composed and ignore the ugly remarks Varen had thrown at her, there was something undeniably satisfying about hearing her disciples mock his pride.

"I mean, can you imagine?" Aira said, still laughing. "All that rage and anger because… well, he's just lacking where it counts."

The girls giggled, their steps lighter now as the weight of the earlier confrontation began to fade.

And then, after walking for another thirty minutes, they finally approached their destination. The air around them seemed to change with anticipation as they neared a secluded part of the city, where a certain establishment was well-known for its services.

Mira glanced up at the grand building before them, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Finally," she whispered, a mischievous smile curling her lips. "We're here."

The building was discreetly tucked away, its exterior adorned with elegant drapery and intricate carvings. A soft glow from lanterns illuminated the entrance, casting an inviting warmth in contrast to the dark streets of Andelheim. Above the door, a sign in ornate lettering read: The Moonlit Sanctuary.

Aira, her grin wide and teasing, licked her lips playfully as she nudged Nira with her elbow. "The famous Moonlit Sanctuary. I've heard the men here are just as gorgeous as they are talented."

Nira giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "It's about time we got to experience this place ourselves."

Lira, walking slightly behind them, raised an eyebrow but didn't stop them.

Her disciples had been buzzing about this place for days, whispering rumors about the stunning men who catered to every whim and desire.

Mira turned to Lira, her eyes twinkling with playful mischief. "Come on, Senior Sister. You can't tell me you're not even a little curious. This place is legendary."

"….."

As for Lira, she thought it wouldn't be bad to relieve some stress.