Chapter 473: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: The Wax Light of Brun

Prince Tristin spread his hands wide with a proud smirk on his face.

"Ahh."

He slowly exhaled, clearly pleased by the cheering coming from the crowd.

The sound of few people amongst the hundreds of thousands of people calling his name continued to echo throughout the Arena, rising from the stands and rolling across the fighting platform.

"Do you hear that, Average of Burnwick?"

He said it while looking toward Cyrus, who had one hand resting at the back of his head, while his headset hung loosely around his neck.

"Ehn."

Cyrus turned his attention toward the Prince.

"THREE!"

The crowd began the countdown as usual.

But apart from the countdown, Cyrus could clearly hear another sound.

The cheering for Prince Tristin.

He leaned back slightly.

"Wow."

There was genuine surprise in his scarlet eyes.

"Did you pay them or something?"

He asked while folding his arms, an impressed expression appearing on his face.

"Pay?!"

Tristin’s expression immediately changed.

His proud smile disappeared, replaced by an irritated frown.

"How dare you accuse me, a Prince, of something like that?"

He waved his hand in annoyance.

"I was thinking of giving you a merciful beating, but now I will just..."

Tristin continued speaking, but Cyrus had already stopped listening.

"Yeah... yeah... yeah..."

Cyrus lazily waved one hand in front of him, cutting the Prince off before he could finish his speech.

"TWO!"

The crowd continued the countdown.

Cyrus sighed.

"You will beat me badly or humiliate me. Classic bad-boy Noble trope."

He said it in a tired voice, as if he had heard the same sort of speech far too many times.

His shoulders relaxed, but there was still a faint nervousness hidden in his expression.

Tristin paused.

He had noticed it.

Cyrus had been reacting lazily to him since he stepped onto the platform.

He had even spoken to him rudely.

Yet now, there was a faint nervous look in his eyes.

"Hahah..."

Tristin laughed, quickly coming to his own conclusion on why Cyrus looked nervous.

Cyrus must simply be acting tough to hide his fear.

"You must be scared of me."

His smirk returned.

"Well, I’m close to the strength of your step-siblings, so..."

He spoke confidently, but once again...

"No... no... no..."

Cyrus waved his hand.

His expression still carried that faint nervousness.

"It’s not that."

He rubbed his forehead.

"Sasha, since I got on the stage, has been shouting my name from the stands while wearing my merch, which I didn’t even know existed."

Cyrus felt a wave of embarrassment just talking about it.

Even among the hundreds of thousands of voices filling the Arena, he could recognize one strange voice almost immediately.

His eyes shifted toward the first-year stands.

Tristin followed his gaze.

"GO!!!! MY BROTHER!!!"

Sasha was standing there, swinging a flag with a picture of Cyrus drawn across it.

She was also wearing a top with Cyrus’s picture printed on it.

Her enthusiasm was impossible to miss.

She waved the flag above her head while shouting his name as though she were cheering for the final battle of the entire Combat Festival.

She had already returned from the infirmary with Vera and Diane.

Selena, however, had stayed behind.

She didn’t want to appear in front of Ezra with her body covered in healing bandages.

Cyrus stared at Sasha.

His face became even more tired.

Ravenor, who was sitting on Sasha’s right, slowly leaned down in his seat as the Holographic Screen showed Sasha and the students around her.

He pulled his coat upward until it blocked part of his face.

He clearly didn’t want anyone watching the screen to think the two of them were together.

"Argh."

Cyrus shook his head and rubbed his forehead again.

At the section where the high powers of Britannia were seated, Sasha’s mother, the First Duchess of Burnwick, couldn’t help but shake her head as well.

She looked embarrassed.

The area around her had also suddenly become quiet.

The silence was so noticeable that the Duchess could almost feel the embarrassment building around her.

She lowered her head slightly.

Why does my daughter have to do this here?

She remained silent.

"ONE!"

The voice of the crowd reached the section.

Yet the silence there remained.

An awkward silence.

Back on the fighting platform...

"She’s just wasting her time, because when you lose, I wonder what kind of disappointed face she would make."

Tristin laughed mockingly.

Cyrus’s expression changed slightly.

She would just laugh mockingly at me, the same way you are doing now.

He narrowed his scarlet eyes at Tristin.

Thinking about how his step-sister would react if he lost made him pissed for some kind of reason.

"BEGIN!!"

The announcement spread throughout the entire Arena in a cheerful tone.

The moment the word ended, Tristin moved backward.

His steps were confident, and the smug expression on his face remained visible.

"Last warning, Wax Light."

He raised his hand slightly.

"Once I begin, there is no going back."

He said it with confidence.

Cyrus continued looking at him, his scarlet eyes remaining narrowed.

"It’s not like you can kill me."

He replied with a shrug.

That answer immediately pissed Tristin off.

It wasn’t only because of the words.

It was the way Cyrus told them that pissed him off.

Cyrus wasn’t taking him seriously in the slightest.

Not even after Tristin had warned him.

He simply stood there and replied as though the Prince’s presence didn’t matter.

Clap!

Tristin’s hands came together.

Cognis immediately flowed through his veins.

The energy moved along his arms before gathering inside his palms.

"Don’t say this kind Prince didn’t warn you, fool!!"

He shouted.

Cyrus remained where he was.

His eyes lazily followed the Light Alchemy Circle forming in front of Tristin.

Waaa...

Are we enemies or something?

He’s really going hard from the start.

Well.

Cyrus lowered his body slightly.

His knees bent.

His weight shifted.

Then he jumped backward.

At almost the same instant...

Several small light daggers launched toward the spot where he had been standing.

Thud!

The first dagger struck the ground.

Thud!

Another landed beside it.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

More followed.

The attacks continued striking the platform wherever Cyrus stepped.

The small Light Alchemy weapons embedded themselves into the surface, leaving tiny flashes of light behind each impact.

Cyrus moved.

He didn’t waste time looking at every incoming dagger.

His body reacted first, stepping to one side.

Another dagger passed beside his shoulder.

He twisted his upper body.

A second dagger flew past.

His foot touched the ground for only an instant before he pushed himself away again.

Thud!

A light dagger struck the platform behind him.

Cyrus continued moving.

His steps became quicker as Tristin continued sending the attacks toward him.

He avoided them without looking directly at every incoming attack, relying on his movement and awareness to keep himself out of their path.

After several seconds, he finally turned his eyes toward Tristin.

The Prince was already preparing another Light Alchemy.

Cyrus immediately reached into his Space Bag.

His fingers closed around a glass bottle.

He pulled it out.

Inside the glass container was Dragon’s Tear.

Cyrus immediately threw the bottle toward the Prince, in a fluid hand movement.

At the same time, his hands came together quickly.

The Light Daggers that had been chasing him stopped, due to Tristin forming his next Light Alchemy Circle, and now... his attention had to be focused on it.

Cognis flowed out from Cyrus’s hands.

The energy gathered between his palms.

A Flame Alchemy Circle formed.

Scarlet Cognis gathered around the circle before taking the shape of lightning.

It crackled between his hands.

Then it shot forward.

The scarlet Cognis lightning traveled directly toward the glass bottle of Dragon’s Tear.

Tristin didn’t even attempt to move.

The bottle was already approaching him.

The scarlet lightning struck it.

Boom!

The explosion happened immediately.

A large burst of flame swallowed the position where Tristin stood.

Smoke rose into the air.

The flames spread across the platform before being contained by the Arena’s defensive systems.

The crowd watched with excited expressions.

"THAT’S THE WAY, CYRUS!!!"

"BEAT HIS ASS!!"

Sasha shouted from the first-year stands.

She swung the flag with Cyrus’s picture even more energetically, her face bright with excitement.

Back on the stage...

Cyrus quietly looked toward the area covered by smoke.

He waited.

"Tsk."

He clicked his tongue.

His expression showed disappointment.

"Did you think I would be stupid enough not to create a Light Shield to protect me from all those weak attacks of yours?"

Tristin’s voice echoed from inside the smoke.

His tone was mocking.

Cyrus’s eyes widened slightly.

"So, that means you learnt a good lesson from facing Ezra."

He hit his right fist against his left palm.

His expression changed as though he had just realized something amazing.

The area where Tristin stood suddenly became quiet.

Cyrus stared into the smoke.

Ahh...

I guess that must have hurt badly.

He thought to himself.

An awkward feeling appeared on his face.

He had not meant to make the Prince remember Ezra.

But judging from the sudden silence, it seemed like that reminder had hit harder than he expected.