The Arena did not empty after the first match.
If anything, it grew louder.
The first battle had shaken Heaven, but tournaments did not halt for shock. Schedules were sacred. Brackets were fixed. Pride demanded continuation.
The remaining matches resumed under a sky now buzzing with restless conversation.
However, the Celestial Balcony above no longer held its full divine audience.
One by one, the Elder Gods departed.
They had come because she was present.
And once she rose from her throne and exited in silent elegance, most followed soon after.
Only one remained.
Dravakar.
The God of War leaned forward in his seat, elbow on knee, chin resting against his fist. His crimson eyes glowed faintly as two divine heirs clashed below.
A wide grin stretched across his face.
"Now this," he muttered, "is worth staying for."
---
After the Battle
Arin had eaten like a starving villager who had just discovered heaven's buffet.
Because technically… he had.
Plates were empty.
Bowls were cleared.
A lesser attendant stared in disbelief as Arin stacked one final dessert plate onto the pile.
"What?" Arin said defensively. "I fought for my life."
He left the resting chamber with a satisfied sigh and began looking around.
"Where did that silver-haired supervisor disappear to…"
Outside the Arena's side corridor, he spotted Caelum standing still, posture straight, hands clasped behind him like a ceremonial guardian.
Arin approached casually.
"Sooo… what are you doing here?"
Caelum did not turn.
"Her Excellency has entered a series of private meetings. I am waiting."
Polished. Formal. Composed.
Arin blinked.
"…So that means I can roam around?"
Caelum glanced at him.
"I mean… it would not be a problem. Unless you cause trouble."
Arin ignored that part entirely.
"Do you have money?"
Caelum paused.
"…Excuse me?"
"Like, one gold coin. Just one."
Suspicion flickered across Caelum's usually calm face.
"For what purpose?"
Arin extended his hand impatiently.
"For very human purposes."
That did not answer anything.
Still, after a brief stare-down, Caelum produced a single radiant gold coin from within his sleeve and handed it over.
Arin's face lit up.
"Bye-bye! Have a nice day!"
And he vanished into the Arena's lower corridors.
Caelum narrowed his eyes.
"…He is absolutely going to cause trouble."
And followed.
---
The Grey Floor
Beneath the main Arena, tucked between marble pillars and lesser deity lounges, was a place rarely mentioned in official records.
Not illegal.
But not celebrated either.
A betting floor.
Tables filled the hall.
Divine projection screens displayed live match statistics.
Lesser gods, attendants, minor bloodlines, and ambitious lower-ranked beings crowded around betting slips and glowing boards.
Coins clinked.
Voices shouted.
"Five on Lethariel!"
"Ten on divine strike finish!"
"Double on bloodline awakening!"
It was chaotic.
And in the middle of it—
Arin stood with wide, fascinated eyes.
"This is beautiful."
He approached the nearest board.
Caelum, standing behind a pillar, watched in disbelief.
"Of course."
Arin placed the gold coin down.
"Random match. All in."
The dealer raised a brow but accepted it.
The match played.
Two divine heirs clashed.
The one Arin chose narrowly won.
The coin doubled.
Arin's eyes sparkled.
"Ohhh… this is easy."
He placed another bet.
And another.
And another.
Sometimes he won decisively.
Sometimes barely.
Sometimes he lost.
But slowly—
His stack grew.
The air around him shifted subtly.
Probability bending.
Just a little.
Just enough.
But not completely.
Because occasionally—
A warrior's sheer willpower overturned destiny.
And those times—
Arin lost.
He didn't mind.
"That's fair," he muttered. "Respect."
Behind the pillar, Caelum stared with dead, hollow eyes.
"He is gambling in Heaven."
Arin slapped the table after another win.
"See?! I told you, instincts!"
"You told no one," the dealer muttered.
More coins stacked.
Lower gods began glancing at him.
"Who is that human?"
"He's winning too often…"
"Luck?"
Arin scratched his cheek modestly.
"Pure talent."
Caelum finally stepped forward.
"…What are you doing?"
Arin nearly jumped.
"Oh. You."
"Yes. Me."
Arin gestured proudly to the pile of gold.
"I have discovered capitalism."
Caelum stared at the gold. Then at Arin.
"You used your power."
"Technically? Maybe. Allegedly."
Caelum closed his eyes.
"You are impossible."
"And rich."
Another match ended.
Another win.
Arin scooped up his earnings quickly.
"Alright, I'm done."
"You are stopping voluntarily?"
"Yes. Because if I continue, I will either get banned or stabbed."
"…A rare moment of wisdom."
Arin grinned.
"I adapt."
---
Accidental Advancement
The next rounds of the tournament resumed.
And something unexpected began happening.
When Arin's name appeared in brackets—
Opponents hesitated.
Whispers spread.
"That's the one who devoured divine energy."
"I'm not fighting him."
"I value my future bloodline."
Some surrendered before stepping onto the stage.
Arin stood there in mild confusion as referees declared victory after victory.
"…Wait. That counts?"
"Yes," an official confirmed stiffly.
Another opponent bowed and withdrew before the match began.
Arin blinked.
"Seriously?"
Caelum stood nearby, barely containing amusement.
"You appear… terrifying."
"I don't even want to win."
Another round.
Another surrender.
By the time Arin realized what was happening—
He was in the semi-finals.
He stared at the bracket board.
"…This is not what I planned."
"You were searching for a match to surrender," Caelum reminded calmly.
"Yes! That was the strategy! Strategic retreat!"
"You are being strategically advanced."
Arin clutched his head dramatically.
"I just wanted a respectable loss!"
Caelum almost smiled.
"Congratulations."
Arin pointed accusingly at the board.
"This is peer pressure."
---
Semi-Final Announcement
The Arena roared louder than before.
The projection crystal flared with golden light.
"SEMI-FINAL MATCH ONE."
Names formed in blazing letters.
Arin.
Versus.
Kaelthar.
A hush fell across the stadium.
Then—
An eruption.
"Kaelthar?!"
"The champion?!"
"The previous victor?!"
Dravakar leaned forward sharply, eyes gleaming with savage delight.
On the upper balcony—
She watched.
Still. Elegant.
Unmoved.
But when the name pairing appeared—
A faint pause.
Almost imperceptible.
Her gaze lowered slightly toward the Arena floor.
"…That child."
There was no anger.
No interference.
Only quiet understanding.
Arin had finally found his excuse.
And she knew it.
Below—
Arin stared at the name.
"Kaelthar…"
Caelum spoke softly beside him.
"Son of the God of War. Previous champion. Brutal. Aggressive. Relentless."
Arin's face slowly brightened.
"…Perfect."
Caelum blinked.
"Perfect?"
"Yes."
He exhaled with relief.
"This is it. The ideal defeat."
"You sound excited."
"I am! Think about it!"
He began counting on his fingers.
"Champion. War god's son. Brutal reputation. If I surrender here—no one can blame me. It's logical."
Caelum stared.
"You truly intended to lose all along."
"Obviously."
Arin folded his arms proudly.
"This is strategic survival."
Across the Arena—
A tall figure stood within the preparation chamber.
Broad-shouldered.
Scarred.
Red eyes burning with battle hunger.
Kaelthar.
He watched Arin from afar.
And grinned.
Not in mockery.
But anticipation.
He had heard the rumors.
And unlike the others—
He had no intention of surrendering.
---
High above—
Dravakar laughed deeply.
"Good."
Very good.
And from her throne—
The Ruler of Heaven observed quietly.
The Irregular had reached the champion.
Whether he fell—
Or survived—
Heaven would not remain the same.
---
Arin stretched lazily.
"Alright," he muttered. "Time to lose gracefully."
Caelum looked at him.
For the first time—
He was not entirely certain that Arin would be allowed to.