“So, even Sharon has lost…”
Victor muttered the words from the VIP lounge, where he was acting as security for the royal family. However, there was no real surprise in his face. It was almost as if he had expected this all along. He looked down at the ring, expressionless.
“Unbelievable!” said one of the royals, a young man. “Truly the grandchild of Overdeath! An amazing victory for a buffer. I must say I’m disappointed in Sharon Valentine. She didn’t even try until she was already cornered.”
The man spoke as if he knew what he was talking about, but he knew nothing. Even then, the other royalty agreed.
“If only she’d given it everything right from the bell,” said one.
“She didn’t put her defensive skills to good use,” said another.
“Is she really all that strong to begin with?”
“I can’t help but wonder if she’s held in too high regard…”
The comments transitioned into disparaging remarks about Sharon’s abilities. Finally, a comment reached Victor’s ears that hit a very particular nerve.
“Well, whatever results she may have achieved, she’s just an elf. None of them can hold a candle to humans.”
The comment was so blatantly discriminatory that Victor shot the group a ferocious glare. The rage was so clear in his eyes that the group shivered and turned away awkwardly.
So this is the reward for those who are defeated.
Victor suppressed a sigh and looked back out the window. Noel, the victor, stood in the center of the ring as the audience heaped him with praise and cheers. Sharon remained on the ground, pitiful and unconscious.
With just one defeat, everything becomes nothing.
But if that were the case, why did Victor fight? If it was a Seeker’s duty to keep winning ad infinitum, what could he do with his aging, deteriorating body? When he gazed at his fallen comrade, Victor saw himself. He saw himself eating dirt beside the victor as the stupid and the foolish made light of him. The mere thought of it made him sick to his stomach.
I want power.
Fury surged through him.
I want my power back.
The rage ignited into a black flame, setting him alight from within.
I want the unstoppable power I knew in my youth. I want it back.
And in order to get it…
“I will give everything I have.”
Leo’s red eyes watched the ring as he waited in his locker room for his next match. In the ring below, Noel raised a fist in triumph.
“So that’s the snake,” he muttered. “The great successor to Overdeath.”
His voice trembled from beneath his mask. The locker room was empty save for the War God himself—he’d ordered everyone to stay out. Leo hated the weak. It disgusted him even to breathe the same air as them. He only cared about the strong.
Leo had entered the tournament after provocation, not because he was actually interested. Until now, he’d felt nothing for Noel Stollen.
But Noel was strong. Too strong. And Leo, who was lauded as the strongest Seeker ever, felt that strength burn like a flame within him. It was a strength that would surpass all.
“Noel Stollen…” Leo said, taking off his mask. “Are you the person I’ve been searching for?”
He pressed his hands against the window, face twisted in a wild and fearsome grin.