The city of Vale was bustling with activity. Swarms of people filled the streets, but today, the massive crowds were not heading in the direction of the market. Instead, they were all walking toward the center of the city.
A gigantic arena was stationed at the very heart of Vale City. It was so massive that it could easily contain several hundred thousand people, and today, the stadium seats were packed to the brim.
They were all here for a particular reason.
Today was the ’Tournant of the Young Generation’. Any Awakened who was under nineteen years old was allowed to participate.
The ultimate reward for winning the tournant was a massive sum of gold coins, along with a chance to get the autograph of one of the strongest Awakener in Vale City: Kalos Seinhart. Famous under the title ’Hydro-man’, Kalos was a powerful water mage with a strong affinity for water elents. He currently stood at the absolute peak of Stage 2 in the Ascension Realm.
He possessed a 1-Red Star, which boosted his base power several tis over.
Not only was he one of the strongest n in Vale City, but his incredibly handso looks made him a local celebrity. Won all over the city were desperate to take a photo with him.
But while the entire city could watch, the tournant only allowed the younger generation to step into the ring.
...
A boy with black hair and striking purple eyes walked toward the arena, weaving smoothly through the dense crowd.
He wore a pitch-black cloak, keeping his head hidden beneath the dark hood. He walked silently. Because of his slim, agile build, he easily slipped through the massive throng of people and made his way inside the stadium walls.
He didn’t walk toward the stadium seats to watch the show. He was here to participate.
He walked straight toward the registration counter where several organizers were writing down the nas of the competitors.
"I want to participate in the tournant," the boy said quietly.
The organizers looked up at him. "Alright... state your na."
He hesitated for a brief second before opening his mouth.
"You can write ’L’... That’s my na."
"L? Are you sure that’s your na? Isn’t it a bit too short?" an organizer asked, raising an eyebrow.
The boy didn’t speak. He just stared at the man continuously from beneath his hood until the silence beca uncomfortable.
The organizers looked at each other, shrugged, and looked back at the boy.
"Fine. Your match block will be stated after the tournant starts. Sign here."
The organizer slid the registration list across the counter. The boy took a pen and wrote his alias, ’L’, signing it with a stylish flourish.
As the boy moved to slide the paper back, his gaze caught the na written just above his own.
Alen.
He handed the clipboard back and turned toward the participant waiting area where the other competitors were gathered.
"Let’s see how this tournant goes," he muttered under his breath.
...
Alen stood quietly in the large room filled with the other competitors.
Just that morning, he had read one of the promotional flyers that had sohow blown onto the water tank where he was sleeping. To his luck, it advertised an opportunity to earn a massive sum of money. He wasn’t the slightest bit interested in getting so celebrity’s autograph, but the greed of earning real money pulled him straight here.
He was completely broke. He couldn’t just keep robbing criminals forever; it was too risky. He had to find a legitimate way to earn an inco.
And the best way to earn money was standing right in front of him.
’I don’t know how strong these other people will be... but I will give it my absolute best,’ Alen thought, clenching his fists.
’I have to win this tournant so I can sustain myself and live normally.’
He looked around the room. Various competitors were focused on deep conversations and strategy talk. Most of them were students from the different academies, dressed in fancy uniforms, while others looked like commoners or street fighters.
So of the competitors were also focused entirely on him. He could feel their constant stares. People were inadvertently attracted to him.
’Damn! This is the fault of having a pretty face,’ Alen grumbled internally.
’I can’t even get a minute of peace without feeling people staring at .’
Fortunately, no one ca forward to converse with him. They were too busy trying to asure the power of their competitors. Because Alen’s body looked slim and refined from the outside, everyone assud he was just a rich guy with a handso face and no real combat experience.
But whatever they thought, Alen didn’t care. He was entirely focused on his goal: the prize money.
As he scanned the room, he noticed a guy with black hair and purple eyes sitting on a bench a few feet away from the main crowd. He had a pretty face with soft skin, resting calmly by himself without showing any interest in talking to the others.
As Alen stared at him for a few seconds, the boy suddenly noticed Alen’s gaze and turned his face toward him.
A warm, sweet smile tugged at the boy’s lips, and he raised his hand, gesturing a friendly ’hi’.
Alen quickly turned his face away, completely ignoring him.
He didn’t want to associate with anyone here. He was here to fight and survive. There was no ti for small chit-chat or making friends.
Just as Alen was cursing himself for looking at the guy in the first place, a loud, booming voice echoed through the arena speakers and into the waiting room.
A man confidently walked into the glass-paneled VIP room overlooking the arena. He was incredibly handso, with styled brown hair and sharp obsidian eyes. He raised his hand, waving to the massive crowd.
As the audience watched him through the glass, they cheered deafeningly.
Kalos was considered a hero in Vale City. He had once protected several civilians during a sudden monster attack from the outer forests, preventing massive casualties. Because of that, the people’s respect for him was absolute.
He smiled and sat down on the soft cushions of the couch, looking down at the arena grounds to see which youngster would rise to the top today.
A massive holographic screen suddenly lit up in the middle of the arena. It displayed the identities of the registered fighters. The screen split into two sections with a giant ’V/S’ sign in the middle.
The nas in the first column started to slide rapidly like a slot machine. After a few seconds, the spinning slowed down until it finally stopped on a single na.
Right after the first candidate was selected, the second column started to spin. It blurred with dozens of nas before slowing down and locking into place.
The audience cheered loudly as the first matchup was officially set.
Alen didn’t wait. He imdiately started walking toward the exit of the waiting room. Before he left, he cast one last glance over his shoulder at the mysterious purple-eyed boy, but the boy’s focus was already glued to the arena monitors.
Alen left the room and walked down the long, shadowed corridor leading to the arena floor.
As he walked, a bright light spilled in from the end of the tunnel. He stepped out of the corridor and into the blinding sunlight of the giant battlefield.
He walked forward to the center of the ring. His opponent, Kuzan, was already present, standing several yards opposite him.
Alen felt a slight knot of nervousness in his stomach. It was his first ti being the center of attention for so many people. Thousands of eyes were staring down at him, expecting to see a good match.
But he took a deep breath and let the nervousness slide away.
He couldn’t waste his energy feeling anxious. If he hesitated now, he would lose. If he lost, he wouldn’t get the money. And if he didn’t get the money, he wouldn’t be able to eat or buy basic necessities.
Everything he did was for his survival.
The roaring cheers of the crowd suddenly halted as everyone held their breath.
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