Chapter 476: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: Two Scary Flowers II

Before the next fight began...

The remaining first-years in the stands watched the craft-based Academy Staff fix the stage platform from their seats, their attention divided between the arena and the conversations happening around them.

The noise from the crowd never truly disappeared. Even when there was a pause before the next match began, hundreds of thousands of voices remained mixed together beneath the large arena roof. Some families amongst the crowd discussed the previous fights, while others were already talking about the fighters who were about to enter the stage.

One particular name was the main talk of the conversations.

Two staff members of the Royal Academy eventually walked toward Ezra Ashenlocke and Nate Ashenlocke.

They stopped beside them and spoke quietly enough that the surrounding students couldn’t hear what was being said.

Ezra listened without much expression.

After a moment, he simply nodded.

Then he stood from his seat.

Nate also rose from where he sat in the section.

Their next match was approaching.

The two Ashenlocke were about to take their leave to the waiting rooms inside the arena.

"Too bad you will be missing her match now."

Veda spoke from behind Ezra.

Ezra stopped for only a moment.

He turned his head and looked at Veda with a dry expression.

There was no particular emotion on his face, as if he had already decided that whatever Veda wanted to say wasn’t worth answering.

Then he turned around and continued walking.

Veda watched his back disappear toward the arena entrance.

A helpless smile appeared on his face.

Linda, however, wasn’t amused by this as usual.

She looked at Ezra’s back with a slight frown before turning toward Veda.

"Why would he ignore you?"

She asked, side-eyeing Ezra as his figure gradually disappeared into the arena passage.

Veda only smiled.

Tracy also laughed lightly, seeing Linda act the usual way she did whenever Ezra was involved.

At another seat column in the section all the first-years sat.

"Good luck on your match."

Priscilla said calmly, while not even looking at Nate.

Nate, who was already walking away, stopped.

He slowly turned around.

A teasing smile appeared on his face as he walked back toward Priscilla. Then he leaned slightly toward her side, lowering his head enough to make his next words feel deliberately annoying.

"Why don’t you cheer for me like how that Lady of Burnwick cheered for her stepbrother?"

He said gently.

Priscilla finally turned her head toward him.

Nate’s smile widened.

"I’m sure you’ve got merch of me. I mean, why not?"

He looked at her as though he had just made the most reasonable statement in the world.

Priscilla stared at him.

Her expression slowly became one of pure discomfort.

It was the kind of look someone gave when another person had said something so embarrassing that simply listening to it was already tiring.

"Get out of my face, idiot."

Priscilla said with a serious expression.

Nate placed a hand against his chest as though he had been wounded by her words.

"Scary, scary girl who likes hiding her true feelings."

He smiled.

"Oh, my, oh my. What a shy noble lady you are."

"..."

Priscilla’s expression became even colder.

"I said get out."

She moved without another warning.

Her fist shot toward Nate’s face.

Thud.

Nate caught her punch effortlessly.

His hand closed around her fist gently before it could reach his face, stopping the attack only a short distance away.

"Hahahaha."

Nate laughed, clearly pleased.

Priscilla’s eyes narrowed.

Nate released her hand and stepped backward.

"I will go now."

He turned around and finally left.

A few of the first-years sitting around their area had already begun looking in their direction.

Some whispered among themselves.

Tracy leaned slightly toward Linda.

"Do you really think they aren’t in a relationship?"

Linda glanced at Nate’s disappearing back before looking at Priscilla.

Veda leaned back against his seat and looked toward the two girls sitting behind him.

"They’ve been really close since the Trial ended."

He added his own thoughts to the conversation.

The two girls exchanged a look.

Neither seemed completely convinced.

But before the conversation could continue, Patrick West’s voice suddenly rang through the arena.

"Welcoming the next fighters!"

His voice echoed across the entire arena, brighter than it had been during the previous announcement.

Patrick stood from his seat and looked down toward the fighting platform.

"Yes, guys..."

He spread one hand toward the arena.

"It’s the fight we have all been waiting for!"

The crowd immediately responded.

"WOOOOOAHHHH!"

The roar rolled through the arena.

First-year students who had already lost in previous rounds of the Combat Festival, rose from their seats in the main stands where their parents were.

Some waved banners.

Others shouted the names of the fighters they wanted to see.

"Lady Vera Ashenlocke!"

"Lady Vera Ashenlocke!"

"Lady Vera Ashenlocke!"

"The Jewel of Ash!"

"I love you, Lady Vera Ashenlocke!"

The crowd filled the arena with cheers for Vera Ashenlocke.

Patrick had barely begun introducing her, yet the atmosphere had already changed.

Vera’s name carried a weight of its own.

She wasn’t simply another first-year fighter.

To many people in the audience, she was one of the most admired young noble ladies in Britannia, and her reputation had only grown throughout the Festival.

"The Best Flower of Britannia!"

The praises went on.

Patrick’s voice rose above the cheering, then he turned toward the opposite entrance.

"Sir Gareth Ashenlocke!"

The crowd responded in an entirely different way.

"Booooo!"

"You’re going to lose, Ashenlocke!"

"Don’t you dare touch my Flower’s face!"

The voices of the few hostile spectators echoed through the arena, mixing with the cheers for Vera.

Gareth stood at the entrance and listened to the crowd.

For a brief moment, he simply stared ahead.

Then...

"Hahaha..."

He laughed lightly.

There was more amusement than anger in his expression.

It was almost strange hearing so many people boo him simply because he had been placed against Vera.

Gareth calmly stepped forward.

His shoes touched the arena floor as he began walking toward the platform.

"Vs. Vera Ashenlocke!"

Patrick shouted.

The crowd became even louder.

Vera appeared from the other arena entrance.

She raised one hand and waved lazily toward the spectators.

There was no exaggerated smile on her face.

Her expression remained calm and slightly dull, as though she had walked into an ordinary room rather than an arena filled with thousands of people shouting her name.

She continued toward the platform at an even pace.

Her black eyes moved across the arena without lingering on any particular person.

The cheers followed her until she stepped onto the fighting platform.

Both fighters were now standing opposite each other.

The distance between them was enough for neither to immediately reach the other without moving first.

"THREE!"

The crowd began the countdown.

Gareth looked at Vera.

"This will be our first time in a very long while fighting each other, Lady Vera."

His voice remained calm, and a gentle smile rested on his face.

Vera tilted her head.

She looked at him plainly, while her hands folded.

She said nothing.

The silence lasted long enough for Gareth’s smile to become slightly awkward.

He scratched the back of his head.

"Hahaha..."

He laughed softly.

"Facing you now makes me know just how little the wild rumors affected you."

He looked at her for another moment.

"It didn’t even affect you in the slightest."

He nodded.

"As expected of our Lady of Ash. The Best Flower of Britannia."

Vera narrowed her dull black eyes.

She didn’t look angry.

That was almost worse.

Her gaze simply rested on Gareth, quiet and steady.

"TWO!"

The crowd continued the countdown.

"Gareth..."

Vera finally spoke.

Her voice was calm, almost casual.

"I heard you, Prince Number Five and mama’s boy ambushed My Dear Dancer during our first Practical Test."

She blinked once.

Her dull black eyes stayed on Gareth.

There was no anger in her expression, and she didn’t raise her voice. She simply reminded him of what happened, as if the fact that months had passed meant very little to her.

Gareth’s smile remained on his face.

"It has been months now, Lady Vera. You can’t be remembering that incident now."

He paused.

"Plus, Ezra looks really fine since then, right?"

He said it calmly, refusing to let her sudden words put immediate pressure on him.

Vera continued staring at him.

"Months sounds like a minute to me."

Her voice sounded as calm as before.

"I remember it like it happened just now."

Gareth’s gentle smile remained, though his eyes stayed on Vera.

But inside, he couldn’t help thinking about it.

But you weren’t even there Lady Vera.

He looked at her with his usual gentle expression.

It was difficult to tell what was actually going through his mind.

At least not for Vera.

"ONE!"

The crowd shouted the final number.

Gareth glanced toward the center of the platform.

"So, are you going to beat me badly as a punishment?"

He asked calmly.

Vera raised one hand and placed her index finger against her lips.

She remained silent, her calm gaze resting on Gareth as though his question didn’t require an answer.

"BEGIN!!"

Patrick’s voice exploded across the arena.

The crowd erupted.

Hundreds of thousands of voices crashed together as both fighters moved.

Gareth’s hand immediately went toward his Space Bag.

The movement was quick but controlled.

He pulled out two handguns.

Two Colt 1911s.

Both had extended magazines.

He held the second Colt 1911 in his other hand, after he tossed the first Colt into the air.

The weapon spun once.

His eyes didn’t follow it.

Instead, his attention remained toward Vera’s position.

The Colt fell.

Gareth caught the Colt 1911 with the extended magazine as it came back down into his hand.

Without even looking to his right, he moved his hand in that direction.

Grab!

Bang!

The gunshot rang out.

"Sharp instincts."

Vera said plainly.

She was already at his right side, and before Gareth could quickly react.

Vera held his wrist, redirecting the muzzle of the colt away from her.

Gareth’s expression remained gentle.

"Thank you, Lady."

He looked down briefly at her hand around his wrist.

"But, Lady Vera..."

His smile became slightly awkward.

"What are you trying to do to me?"

Vera didn’t answer.

Her grip on his wrist tightened as she tried to rotate his whole body.

Instead of simply pulling Gareth’s arm, she redirected the force through his wrist and into the rest of his body.

Gareth’s upper body tilted again.

For a brief moment, it looked as though Vera was going to send him over his own center of balance.

But Gareth reacted again.

His feet pressed against the platform.

His knees bent.

His weight dropped.

Rather than allowing his upper body to follow the direction Vera had chosen, he grounded himself.

The soles of his shoes scraped slightly against the platform.

His body stopped.

Vera watched him for a moment.

"Hmm..."

Her gaze briefly dropped to Gareth’s feet, which remained firmly planted against the platform.

"So, you already have an answer for this art."

She said calmly.

Gareth kept his body firm.

"No... I just need more work in mastering this art."

Vera said calmly.

When...

Gareth pushed himself back up from his grounded position, using his legs to recover his balance. The force of his movement pushed Vera one step backward, but she still kept hold of his wrist.

Gareth immediately moved his other hand.

The Colt 1911 in his free hand was raised toward Vera’s stomach.

Bang!

Bang!

He fired twice.

The moment Gareth moved his free hand before firing the gun, Vera lightly raised her left leg.

Her foot stepped onto Gareth’s hand right as he fired.

She used the contact to press against his hand and push herself lightly away from him. At the same time, she released the other hand she had been holding.

That was when the bullets past her.

She flawlessly weaved the bullets in a quick sequence of steps.

Her body followed the movement naturally.

Bam!

Vera’s leg swung through, and her side kick struck Gareth across the cheek.

The impact pushed him several steps to the side.

His body staggered with the force of the kick, but he managed to keep his footing and didn’t fall onto the platform.

Vera landed on the ground.

She lowered her leg and looked at the foot she had used to kick Gareth.

Her expression remained calm.

"Hard."

She said simply.