The final was halted midway by none other than Kael Agni.
"This fight won't continue," Kael's firm voice echoed across the arena. "It's become too dangerous for both of you."
Flester's fists clenched. His jaw tightened.
"It was so obvious", he thought bitterly.
There had never been a chance for a fair match — not here, not against the younger brother of the Agni heir, and certainly not on Agni clan soil. He was an orphan from Frosthold, the weakest of towns, daring to stand against the pride of Emberhold's most powerful bloodline.
Defeating Ager had already been a blow to their pride — even if Ager was a lower-ranked noble. But to let Flester defeat Veiyaar Agni, the younger brother of their future head? Impossible. They'd never allow it.
He sighed heavily and turned to leave, only for a calm yet commanding voice to stop him.
"Stop, young Flester."
Kael jumped down from the spectator's platform, landing gracefully despite the height. The flames that wove through the air around him seemed to dim in respect. The elders and guards bowed their heads slightly as he approached.
Kael smiled faintly and extended his arm. In his palm floated an orange orb, its core flickering with contained fire.
"You deserve the Flame Symbol," he said simply.
Flester stared at the orb. Back in Frost Academy, they'd been taught that symbol holders were those who had won the Ruby Tournament — heroes recognized by the kingdom itself. The Flame Symbol was one of the most honored among them.
"…Why is it an orb?" Flester asked, his tone cautious.
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"I just thought the symbol would… look different. Not like this."
Kael chuckled lightly. "You're the first to ask me that." He looked up thoughtfully. "Honestly, I don't know. It's an ordinary orb, nothing more. The officials have their ways of verifying its authenticity. Perhaps that makes you feel more at ease?"
"I wasn't worried about that," Flester replied, hiding his thoughts carefully. "So this is not the same as an Elemental Symbol… good thing I didn't say anything rash."
"You know," he said slowly, "I expected the Flame Symbol to resemble the Elemental Symbols we were shown in the academy."
Kael nodded, intrigued. "That's… actually a fair question. I've never thought of it myself. Perhaps there's a reason — one even I'm not aware of."
"Big brother."
The sharp, frustrated voice of Veiyaar Agni cut through the tension. He marched forward, his anger radiating off him.
Like Kael, Veiyaar's hair blazed a bright crimson, though smoother and untied, and his black eyes burned with emotion. Yet to Flester, Kael's gaze felt darker — heavier — as if his fire burned inward rather than out.
"Why was our fight stopped?" Veiyaar demanded, voice tight with pride and fury. "I'd rather lose in battle than have you stop it for me. It's unfair — not just to me, but to him as well."
Kael sighed, his expression softening only slightly. "We just received word from the Royal Palace." His tone turned grim. "Two pieces of news — and it's difficult to say which one is worse."
His eyes flicked to Flester for a brief moment, the weight in them unreadable.
"One of these will be made public soon," Kael continued, "and the other… will remain known only to select members of the kingdom. I can't speak of either to you — not yet."
He placed the glowing orb into Flester's hand, his touch light but steady.
"Take it. You've earned it."
Without another word, Kael Agni turned and walked away, the crimson of his cloak vanishing into the distance as silence swallowed the stadium.
Flester stood at the edge of the arena, his thoughts a blur."Night told me to master the second stage under Kael," he thought quietly. "But that doesn't seem possible—not now."
The audience was dispersing, still buzzing with divided opinions. Some cheered Kael's decision, others whispered about injustice.
"I guess I'll have to stay in the city a little longer," he muttered under his breath. "Maybe I can reach Kael through his brother…"
But when he turned to look, Veiyaar Agni was already gone. The youngest scion of the Agni clan had vanished as swiftly as his temper.
Flester's gaze swept over the stands one last time. The faces he saw reflected a strange balance between fury and admiration—each person caught up in their own reasons to love or hate what had just happened.
"Well," he murmured, stepping away from the broken tiles of the arena floor, "I'll hunt a few magic beasts first… then decide what to do next."
He slipped into the stream of people leaving the stadium, his presence drawing eyes even among the crowd. To them, he was the nobody who had walked in from Frosthold and held his own against an Agni.
Some stared with disdain—offended that a commoner had dared to stand tall among nobles. Others, especially those who despised the upper bloodlines, watched him with a spark of pride, as though he carried their rebellion with him.
And then, from the corner of his eye, Flester caught a familiar face cutting through the crowd like a breeze through snow—Fey Frost, heiress of the Frost Clan.
Her pale-blue eyes met his briefly before she changed her path toward him, her steps graceful and deliberate.
Flester slowed down just enough for her to catch up.
"What brings you here?" he asked, his tone calm but wary.
"I happened to see your battle," she replied softly, her voice poised yet carrying the faintest edge of concern.
Flester glanced at her briefly. The years hadn't dimmed her beauty—her skin was as fair and smooth as fresh snow, and her gown, though practical for travel, still shimmered faintly with the elegance of nobility. But beneath that regal grace, he could sense the shift—the warrior beneath the princess.
A few guards and mages followed at a distance, keeping a respectful formation. Still, Flester could tell that Fey had seen her share of struggle lately.
"The Frost Clan must be in trouble," he thought. "Her father's too weak to lead, and now all the pressure falls on her… and her little brother, who's barely five."
Fey's hair was still let down freely, cascading over her shoulders. Her sharp, light-blue eyes followed Flester's every movement — calm, precise, and observant. She clearly noticed that, even if only for a second, he had looked at her.
"What a nuisance," Flester thought. Noble clan mages were always taught everything — from the smallest gestures to the grandest spells and ancient secrets.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, a faint hint of concern glimmering in her eyes.
She was the same age as Flester, yet she carried a burden far heavier than most her age. As the heiress of the weakest clan in the kingdom, nobody expected much from her — and Flester knew exactly why.
The first reason was simple: Frosthold, and its single noble family, had always been the weakest. They had lost countless battles, even within their own city. The current clan head — her father — was weaker than some of the newly graduated mages from the very academy he ruled over.
The second reason ran deeper. Because Fey was a girl, the nobles and council alike had shifted their hopes toward her little brother, a child of only five.
That thought always angered Flester. Even before leaving Frosthold, he'd heard the whispers — outsiders mocking her, doubting her right to lead.
And yet, even at fourteen — the same age as him — Fey already carried herself like a true leader. The way she spoke, the way she observed others… she clearly wanted Flester to lower his guard around her, to see her as a leader he could depend on rather than as the heiress she was born to be.
It was her dream — to grow strong enough to protect her clan and her city, no matter what others believed.
She had cut ties with friends from other noble houses, distanced herself from classmates, and carved her name into silence — untouchable, driven by purpose. She had overcome fear, pride, and loneliness, all for the sake of power and the future.
Flester knew it clearly then, this was the woman he would one day serve under.And he didn't mind that at all.
"I'm fine, no need to worry," Flester reassured her as they made their way into a clearing and sat down beside each other, their shoulders brushing lightly.
After a brief silence, Flester frowned slightly, realizing something was off."Where are your guards?" he asked.
As if struck by surprise, Fey flinched, turning her gaze away."I sent them back," she said quietly, though her voice was still loud enough for him to hear.
"Why?" he asked, curiosity slipping into his tone — but the moment he saw the regret in her eyes, he wished he hadn't. She hid it quickly, but not well enough.
"I wanted to grow stronger — like any other mage, not as a favored noble."
Flester shrugged. He didn't care much about her reason; he'd just been curious. But it was clear the Frost heiress in front of him cared deeply about his opinion.
"What do you think of me now?" she asked softly. "Without those guards around me… do you think I'm worthy of being a better leader than my father?"
"You've changed," Flester said, meeting her gaze. His tone was steady, sincere.
"How so?"
He studied her for a moment. She had suffered — that much was clear. Though she had always cared for her people, something devastating must have happened to shatter the mask of arrogance and pride she once wore.
"Well," he said finally, "you've become stronger. More beautiful, too. You have this aura — mature, grounded, approachable. Like someone who's learned from her pain."
Fey smiled faintly. "I see… that's nice to hear."
She looked at him again, concern flashing briefly in her eyes. "How's your body? Any signs of Manabursts? After that display of magic energy, I think you should visit the medical center."
Flester nodded, but the thought made him shiver — that nurse and their strange conversation flashed in his mind.
"Seriously, I would never do that", he told himself. Something about that moment felt wrong, almost as if another presence had been controlling his emotions.
"Was it adolescence?" he wondered silently, glancing at the girl beside him. "I don't think so…" He shrugged inwardly. "I'll think about it later."
"Well, my body can handle more magic than most people our age," he said out loud, trying to reassure her.
Fey studied him for a moment before speaking again. "Flester… you asked me something earlier, remember?"
He turned toward her. She could see the exhaustion in his eyes — dark circles forming beneath them, his hair slightly disheveled, but his presence still calm and dangerous.
"Oh, right. Why are you in Emberhold?"
"Normally," she began, "I'd say it was just a coincidence we met here… but it's not." Her tone grew serious.
"There's been research across the world for decades now," she continued, pausing as if choosing her words carefully. "People underestimated magic beasts — they were easy to kill, rarely a threat. A skilled mage could wipe out dozens. But recently, something has changed."
She looked up, meeting his eyes again."Magical beasts are evolving. Rapidly. They're receiving some kind of… boost. We don't know the source, but it's already begun. Even common beasts have grown stronger overnight — vicious, fearless. It's only a matter of time before it spreads across the entire kingdom."
Flester stared down at the ground, processing the weight of her words. This was bad — far worse than he imagined.
He exhaled slowly, looking back at Fey. "What now, then?"
"I want you...to leave the Emberhold city"