The days following Arin's injury passed quietly.
The grand arena, which had been shaken by the chaos of the previous match, returned to its usual rhythm. Matches resumed according to schedule, and the atmosphere once again filled with excitement, shouting spectators, clashing powers, and the endless roar of the crowd.
Yet the incident had left subtle ripples.
For Arin, the memory lingered longer than he expected.
The Goddess had appeared, judged the situation, and dismissed them with cold neutrality.
Nothing more.
No scolding.
No comfort.
Not even a word meant specifically for him.
And strangely, that silence unsettled him more than anger ever could.
Still, time moved forward.
Within a few days, Arin slowly returned to normal.
His injuries healed with divine medicine, and Caelum dragged him around the arena grounds whenever he tried to brood too much.
Soon enough, Arin began doing what most spectators did during tournaments—simply enjoying the spectacle.
---
The tournament grounds had transformed into a festival.
Merchants lined the outer streets of the arena selling roasted meats, glowing fruits infused with minor mana, sweet pastries, exotic drinks, and strange artifacts meant to amuse visitors.
Bright banners fluttered across the skyways.
Crowds moved endlessly between stalls.
Arin leaned lazily against a railing, eating something that vaguely resembled candied fruit on a stick while watching a match below.
"That guy's going to lose," Arin muttered.
Caelum squinted down at the arena.
"How can you tell?"
"Because he's panicking."
Sure enough, a moment later the fighter below made a reckless attack and was immediately thrown out of the ring.
Caelum blinked.
"…You're annoyingly good at predicting fights."
Arin shrugged.
"I've watched enough now."
Over the past few days, Arin had begun making small bets with nearby spectators.
Nothing serious.
Just a few coins here and there.
And to Caelum's endless frustration, Arin kept winning.
"Again?" Caelum groaned as Arin collected another handful of coins from a defeated bettor.
"You should thank me," Arin said smugly. "I'm paying for lunch."
---
While Arin relaxed and wandered the festival grounds, another competitor was becoming the undisputed star of the tournament.
Kaelthar.
Match after match, the young warrior dominated the arena.
His movements were precise.
His aura burned like a blazing storm.
Even opponents with noble bloodlines struggled to last long against him.
One particularly brutal match ended with Kaelthar standing alone in the center of the arena as lightning-like energy crackled around his blade.
The crowd erupted.
"KAELTHAR!"
"UNDEFEATED!"
"THE CHAMPION!"
By the time the final match approached, there was almost no doubt in anyone's mind.
Still…
One opponent remained.
---
The final day arrived.
The arena overflowed with spectators.
Every seat.
Every balcony.
Every viewing platform.
Even the floating screens positioned across the city flickered to life so citizens far from the arena could watch the conclusion.
The announcer's voice thundered across the massive stadium.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE DIVINE REALM!"
The crowd roared.
"THE FINAL MATCH OF THE GRAND TOURNAMENT!"
"ON ONE SIDE—THE UNSTOPPABLE WARRIOR WHO HAS SHATTERED EVERY OPPONENT!"
"KAELTHAR!"
Thunderous cheers erupted.
Kaelthar walked into the arena calmly, his presence alone sending waves of pressure across the battlefield.
Then the announcer raised his voice again.
"And ON THE OTHER SIDE!"
"THE PRODIGY OF A HIGH DIVINITY BLOODLINE!"
"THE BLADE OF PRIDE!"
"LYRION!"
A tall young man stepped forward.
His armor gleamed like silver flame.
His expression was sharp with arrogance.
Lyrion was the son of one of the High Divinities.
And unlike the others Kaelthar had defeated…
He did not look afraid.
Their eyes met across the arena.
Lyrion smirked.
"So you're the one they keep praising."
Kaelthar remained silent.
Lyrion drew his blade slowly.
"Let's see if you deserve it."
---
The battle exploded instantly.
Blades collided.
Shockwaves tore across the arena floor.
Lyrion was fast—far faster than most of Kaelthar's previous opponents.
His swordsmanship was elegant, precise, and filled with divine technique.
For the first time in the tournament—
Kaelthar was forced backward.
The crowd gasped.
Steel flashed again and again.
Lyrion pressed the attack relentlessly.
"You're strong," he admitted during a clash.
"But strength alone isn't enough."
Their blades locked.
Energy erupted.
Kaelthar's eyes sharpened.
"…We'll see."
Then his aura ignited.
The entire arena shook as his power surged like a rising storm.
Lyrion's confident expression cracked.
The next exchange shattered the ground beneath them.
Kaelthar's strikes grew heavier.
Faster.
Relentless.
Lyrion fought brilliantly, deflecting several devastating blows—but slowly the pressure became overwhelming.
Then—
One final clash.
A flash of power.
Lyrion's sword flew from his hand.
Silence.
Kaelthar's blade stopped at his throat.
The arena froze.
Then the announcer's voice exploded across the sky.
"THE WINNER!"
"THE CHAMPION OF THE GRAND TOURNAMENT!"
"KAELTHAR!"
The stadium erupted.
Fireworks of divine flame exploded high above the arena.
Golden sparks rained down from the sky.
The cheers were deafening.
---
Soon after, Kaelthar was escorted to the upper platform.
High above the arena.
Where the divine council sat.
At the center…
The Goddess of Time.
Radiant.
Unreachable.
Kaelthar stepped forward.
Then knelt.
The entire arena watched through massive projection screens.
Silence spread across the crowd.
Then the Goddess spoke.
Her voice was calm.
Elegant.
Timeless.
"You have fought with strength, discipline, and resolve."
"Such perseverance deserves recognition."
Her golden eyes rested upon him.
"Tell me, child."
"What is it that you desire?"
The arena held its breath.
Kaelthar lowered his head further.
"This one seeks no treasure… nor power."
"I only ask for Your blessing."
A faint ripple moved through the crowd.
Even the Elder Gods seemed mildly surprised.
For a brief moment…
A small smile touched the Goddess's lips.
She raised her hand slightly.
"Then rise."
Her voice carried quiet authority.
"As you wish."
A soft wave of divine energy descended upon him like warm sunlight.
Kaelthar bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
---
With her approval, Kaelthar approached the council of Elder Gods and respectfully received their blessings as well.
Across the arena, spectators watched the scene through floating screens.
Many stared with awe.
Some whispered excitedly.
"I wish I could meet her…"
"She's even more beautiful than the legends…"
"So that's the Goddess of Time…"
Others looked at Kaelthar with envy.
"Lucky bastard…"
"To stand before her like that…"
"Unbelievable."
---
Far below the arena…
Arin wandered through the festival street holding a slowly melting ice cream.
The crowd had begun shifting toward the arena again as people rushed to catch even a glimpse of the Goddess on the giant displays.
Several merchants were already abandoning their stalls.
"Hey! Watch the shop!" one vendor shouted while running toward the viewing platforms.
"Forget the shop!" another yelled. "The Goddess appeared!"
Arin watched them sprint away.
He slowly turned his head toward the towering arena.
The distant projection screens showed her figure glowing like a star.
He licked his ice cream thoughtfully.
"…Hmm."
"I guess she really is famous."
---
Meanwhile, within a private viewing chamber above the arena…
Several Elder Gods discussed something quietly.
One of them spoke first.
"Do you truly believe that boy deserved to advance earlier in the tournament?"
Another raised an eyebrow.
"You mean the irregular?"
"Yes."
He folded his arms.
"The God of War intervened to protect his son. By strict interpretation… that should have disqualified the match."
A different Elder God chuckled softly.
"If we start discussing unfair advantages…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then that boy's ability to absorb the mana of spectators and unleash it as his own attack would also qualify as cheating."
Silence lingered.
"…True."
After a moment, the first god sighed.
"Hmph."
"Perhaps."
The conversation ended there.
One by one, the gods stood and left the chamber.
But the matter of the irregular boy…
Clearly remained in their thoughts.