novel bin Chapter 368: The Arena
Chapter 368: The Arena
The Dark Elf arena was alive with energy. The circular stone structure, carved into the heart of the underground cavern, was packed with villagers. Their cheers echoed off the walls, a mixture of excitement and anticipation that seemed to vibrate through the very stone.Adam stood at the center of the arena, wearing only a pair of simple trousers. His torso was bare, revealing the lean, powerful muscles beneath his pale skin—muscle and runes visible across his body. The runes glowed faintly on his chest and arms, marking him as the challenger bound by the duel’s rules. If he so much as channeled a spark of mana, they would flare and disqualify him instantly.
Adam’s focus narrowed, pushing out the noise of the crowd.
’They really put runes on me. They probably don’t trust their own suppression magic to hold a dragon. Can’t blame them, though. But even without my powers... I can still beat him.’
Lilith’s voice drifted from the edge of the arena, smooth and teasing. Her fingers traced idle patterns along Adam’s bare arm, her crimson eyes gleaming with open appreciation.
"Mm~ You’re doing something interesting, Adam. Showing off this body... It’s quite the sight."
Ignis bounced on her heels beside her, flames flickering with excitement. "This looks really fun! When you’re done, Adam, I want to fight you too!"
Adam let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "I’d rather not give the Elders a reason to put more runes on me. Besides, I’m not sure this village could survive both of us going all out."
Alice stood a few paces away, her dark violet eyes fixed on Lilith’s wandering fingers. Her cat ears twitched, and her tail lashed with barely contained irritation. Her voice was sharp, pointed.
"This is getting lively. Why did you even accept this duel? What a hassle."
Adam glanced at her, his expression shifting to something thoughtful. "I was curious about the duel. I wanted to know if I can still fight using only my body. Just pure physical strength."
Alice’s gaze dropped to his bare chest, her cheeks flushing faintly before she quickly looked away. Her voice carried a note of reluctant admission.
"With a body like that... you probably can. But Lilith, stop touching him. You’ve been at it for far too long."
Isolde’s voice drifted from behind them, cool and measured. "Don’t let your guard down, Adam. Your opponent is a Dark Elf. They’re experts at evasion and dagger work. I’ve read about their techniques—they’re precise, fast, and relentless. From watching Azrynn fight, I can confirm it."
Adam’s smile was faint but genuine. "I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the warning."
Azrynn stepped forward, her yellow eyes downcast, her voice heavy with apology. "I’m sorry, Adam. Because of me, you got dragged into this mess."
Alice’s voice cut through, sharp and pointed, still trying to pull Lilith’s hands away. "You’re right. You are troublesome. Keep your man away from my Adam. Your man is clearly an idiot if he thinks he can win."
Adam flicked his finger gently against Alice’s forehead.
A small, startled sound escaped her lips—almost a yelp. She blinked, rubbing the spot with a mixture of surprise and indignation. "Ow...!"
Adam’s voice was calm, but carried a note of gentle reproach. "Don’t be rude, Alice. That’s not how we treat people."
Azrynn’s gaze lifted, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. "No, Alice is right. I am troublesome." She let out a slow breath. "But I believe in you, Adam. You can win this. Do your best."
Adam’s expression softened, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Thanks, Azrynn. I’ll make sure your faith isn’t misplaced."
On the other side of the arena, Casil stood with his arms crossed, his weathered face carrying a deep, weary weight. He looked at his son, his voice low and heavy.
"...Why are you doing this, Drizt?"
Drizt’s jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek twitching as he fought to keep his composure. His voice came out sharp, carrying the weight of years of unspoken words.
"Because I want to show her that I am also a man worth looking at. That I am strong. That I am not someone she can just leave behind."
Casil’s breath came out long and slow, his tired eyes searching his son’s face. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, edged with the weight of a father’s fear.
"I support you, son. But this is extreme. Do you understand what this duel could cost you? Have you forgotten what you saw that night? That man became a dragon. He slaughtered monsters with power beyond anything we have ever seen. He is not like us."
Drizt’s eyes blazed brighter, his voice rising with stubborn conviction.
"That was outside the arena. This is sacred ground. I won’t fail. Trust me, Father. I’ll win her hand and bring you a daughter-in-law."
For a long moment, Casil searched his son’s eyes for the fear he himself felt. He found none. The worry in his own chest eased, replaced by a flicker of pride. When he spoke, his voice was softer, almost resigned to belief.
"Then I’ll trust your judgment. You are my son—I know your strength. Remember the Blade Dancer techniques. That will be your advantage."
Drizt’s posture straightened. A fierce grin spread across his face, his voice ringing with renewed confidence.
"I won’t disappoint you, Father."
Drizt spun on his heel and strode toward the arena’s heart, his back straight, his gaze fixed ahead. Adam met him halfway, his movements fluid and relaxed, utterly unbothered by the weight of the moment.
The crowd’s roar swelled as the two combatants stepped onto the packed earth of the arena floor. Torches blazed around the perimeter, casting dancing shadows across the ancient stone.
The Elder stood at the center, his weathered face solemn, his staff planted firmly on the ground. His voice rose, carrying over the noise, resonant and formal.
"We gather here today to witness a sacred duel—a Bloodfeud Duel, as ordained by our ancestors. Let the spirits of our forebears watch over this contest. Let honor guide the blades, and let blood decide the victor."
He paused, his yellow eyes sweeping over both combatants.
"Bow to each other. Show respect for the traditions that bind us."
Adam and Drizt faced each other. For a moment, they simply stood, their gazes locked. Then, slowly, both of them lowered their heads—a formal, deliberate bow, acknowledging the weight of the ritual.
The Elder nodded, a flicker of approval crossing his face. He gestured toward a stone pedestal where two ceremonial daggers lay, their blades gleaming white and flawless, untouched by blood.
"Take your blades."
Adam reached for the nearest dagger. The hilt was cool against his palm, the weight unfamiliar. He turned it over, testing its balance.
Drizt took the other dagger with practiced ease, his fingers closing around the hilt like an extension of his arm. He twirled it once, the blade catching the torchlight.
The Elder raised his hand, his voice cutting through the roar of the crowd.
"Combatants, take your positions."
Adam and Drizt stepped back, circling each other slowly, their eyes locked.
The Elder’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and absolute.
"The duel... begins."