Chapter 265: Ashes and Confetti
The trophy was heavy—a massive block of pure adamantite, carved into the shape of the Ironhold, with the crest of the Dwarf Kingdom inlaid in gold. Arthur Pendragon held it aloft, his muscles straining not from the weight, but from the sheer exhaustion of the tournament.
"CHAMPIONS! ARCADIA ACADEMY!"
The announcer's voice boomed, though it sounded tinny compared to the thunderous applause of the fifty thousand spectators in the stands. Confetti cannons fired from the rim of the stadium, filling the air with a blizzard of gold and silver paper.
Michael Wilson stood at the back of the group, near the edge of the podium. He wasn't smiling. He was watching the confetti fall.
He caught a piece in his gloved hand.
It didn't flutter. It crumbled.
It wasn't paper. It was grey, flaky ash.
"Leon," Michael said, his voice low but urgent.
