Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn! 138 Grand Finals 1

The audience had begun trickling in roughly 30 minutes before the Grand Finals were slated to start. Some came back just because they had nothing else to do, after having eaten and rested, there was nowhere else to go.

After all, there were countless citizens left jobless and unemployed or underemployed, unable to find enough work to occupy themselves even on a festive day with many visitors to the city. Albeit the number of guests was also far lower than it would have been prior to the devil disaster...

Lars had retreated for barely 10 minutes to test out this new equipment before heading over to the contestants' waiting area - though he was the only one there apart from the tournament support staff and admins.

Charley however took the chance to discuss with Seline on their investments and some trade deals they were planning for. One of the things they planned to do was to establish their own banking and financial services firm, but that would be a plan for the long-term. In the meantime, most of what they could invest in was public construction and infrastructure, taking advantage of the burly and strong members of Susano's "Sword" members formerly from the Underworld. In the end, their core business had become contractor and construction work...!

Of course, they also took on odd jobs requiring certain other "skills" such as protection or intimidation... But that was a story for another time.

Separately, a girl was fully hooded in a cloak, her features completely covered. She was seated in one of the Jamal family's private booths. As per earlier, it was only the girl, her father and one servant ready to attend to their needs and requests.

The girl sat with her elbows on her knees and leaned forward, seated on the edge of the divan she was on. She looked eager to get into action - impatient even.

All the while, her father, Yusof Jamal looked on with concern and worry, every now and then his lips parting as if intending to say something, but each time he would once again fall silent, unable to speak the words on his lips.

In the end, he kept his silence, his thoughts going unsaid, his feelings going unspoken.

But he sat there, by her side, worried eyes on her and praying for her safety and well-being.

* * * * *

On the dot of 2.25pm, just 5 minutes before the scheduled start of the Grand Finals match, an unseen gong sounded loudly, smothering and drowning out the rumbling murmurs of the crowd. Their voices were immediately swallowed up as they raised their eyes to the stage down below where a white-clothed figure suddenly appeared, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and his long white hair flowing freely in the afternoon breeze.

It was none other than the host, organiser and Head Adminstrator of the Gorun tournament, Mr White!

He cast his gaze left and right, pausing for a moment to meet eyes with and bow slightly to the premier viewing box where Duke Leanne and the other family heads were seated.

Then once the stadium had quietened down sufficiently, he cleared his throat and spoke with a clarion-clear voice enhance by his cultivation.

"Ladies and gentlemen... We are obviously all here and gathered today for one reason - to witness who will prevail as the new top talent of the young generation! Will it be Lars...?"

He paused emphatically as cheers began to boom throughout the stadium for the dark horse of the tournament who had upset everyone's predictions by defeating Darius with a last-minute breakthrough. Then he continued his address.

"...Or will it be last year's runner-up, Vignis Jamal, heiress of the Jamal family and grand-daughter of the Wiarno hegemony...?"

This time there were similarly loud cheers, only slightly more subdued as many in the crowd had not seen her in action in the past tournament. Nevertheless, they were still believers in the natural rule of the world - the strong would trample on the weak, while the rich would trample over the strong!

Clearing his throat once more, Mr White carried on, "To spare you the long-windedness, I will only ask you one question before we begin..."

Then he raised both arms into the air and waved enthusiastically to the crowds and shouted out loud, "ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"

He was met by explosive roars of excitement, this time more than three-fold louder than the cheers of support for either candidate. Even the neutrals who supported neither side were eager to see this highly-anticipated match between the power and speedy all-rounder Vignis Jamal and the magic wielding expert who had emerged out of nowhere, Lars.

After nearly 30 seconds of raucous applause and yells from the crowds, Mr White motioned for the people to let him speak and quieten down. Then he beamed brightly and pointed over to the contestant's waiting area where Lars was seated.

"I believe we need no introduction for the contestant who you have seen several times over the past week and today itself. Let us welcome Miller Knight Larsson, today's challenger for the title of Gorun tournament's champion!"

Lars walked up at a steady pace from the waiting area as he looked left and right while nodding in appreication at the shouts of support coming from the audience. He was rather warmed that he as an outsider and stranger could receive such support and encouragement - though he was also aware that this was only because he was winning.

The moment he lost...

He shook his head and smiled wryly, not bothering to complete the thought as he ascended the steps to stand on the battle arena ring - newly replaced as the earlier one was too damaged to continue using for fights.

Mr White nodded to him warmly and then raised his chin to once more announce to the crowd the next fighter.

"And the runner-up of the previous tournament, the reigning champion due to Alayna de Caldis' ascension to the Master-level... At the very peak of the Elite-realm, standing at 179 cm tall and weighing in at 77 kg..."

"Vignis Jamal!!!"

The earlier seated cloaked figure leaped out of the 50 metre high viewing booth she had been in and quickly landed on the arena grounds with a loud and solid thump. She then immediately began to walk over to the battle ring without removing her covering cloak.

Lars looked on with curiosity, but began to feel strangely tense as the girl approached the stage. His head was filled with question marks as he wondered what it was that could give him this sense of pressure. He would ask Kizorik or Velzash, but it was time for the duos afternoon nap right now... And they would pester him relentlessly throughout the day and the night if he interrupted their precious sleepie timey...!

He glanced around quickly, taking in the expressions of Mr White and any of the nobles or higher-ups he could catch sight of. However, he was stumped when he realised wondered if it could be some form of energy similar to his Demon-Hunting Arts - one that was not commonly encountered and was difficult to detect.

Whatever it was though, he dismissed the sense of danger. After all, just how dangerous could a mere peak Elite-level opponent be...?

He nodded and smiled at the girl as she took the stage on the opposite side, but he couldn't tell if she returned the gesture. So he watched with expectation as she began to doff her cloak.

But the moment he caught sight of her face, his mouth gradually fell open and agape at what he saw. And it was not just him who was stunned at the reveal, whether it was the audience members or the observing nobles and high-ranked visitors, they were all greatly shocked when they saw her face.

Her face was nearly the same as any other's, merely, there was but one difference.

At the centre of her forehead where others would just have a smooth patch of skin, there was now a bulging milky white pearl embedded which appeared to not be a separate attachment but rather something that had been integrated into her head and skull.

And the moment Lars laid eyes on it, the milky white surface suddenly split open horizontally at the centre and revealed a hypnotic purple pupil, devilishly enchanting and infinitely beautiful.

Only, it was also completely unnatural and caused Lars' to feel a chill run up his spine.

And amidst the shock and surprise arising from the sight of the unnatural organ implanted onto Vignis' forehead, one voice drew the most attention as it belonged to one of great authority as well as one who recognised it for what it was: Duke Moron of the Wiarno Kingdom.

"By... By the gods!!! It cannot be!!! How could it be here... The fabled, Mythical-level god's inheritance..."

"The Eye of Omerod!!!"

Chapter end