NOVEL NEXT Chapter 146: Feast of Shadows
"Well, I hope you all enjoyed your dish, the meal prepared for you. If you want anything else, tell us and we'll bring it," a man dressed as a butler said. Everyone nodded.
Meanwhile, Lyra was in the stables, scrubbing the horse. "Hey, what's wrong with you? Scrub that horse well, or you'll get whipped," a butler snapped at Lyra, who was disguised as a butler. Tears welled in Lyra's eyes as she worked. What the hell is going on? I came to eat. I enjoyed myself disguised as a butler, but I didn't plan on cleaning or picking up after animals. And why is this old man whipping me? Is this what being a butler means? Lyra muttered, sad, as she kept scrubbing.
Back in the mansion's great hall, where the contestants gathered, everyone kept to themselves. Tharion sat apart with Fenric; no one mingled. People took plates, filled them, and poured wine.
"Hello, everyone. Thank you for coming," the emissary announced from the dais. "This is a large hall in the mansion. The king will come to give a speech. By nightfall, around eleven, there will be a grand banquet. Please welcome His Majesty." The crowd started clapping as the king stepped up. When the clapping stopped, everyone knelt except Nolan.
"Master, we have to kneel. Everyone, kneel down," Celia urged.
"No," Nolan said. "I won't. In my previous world the rich treated people like dirt. Poor people were forced to kneel for their pay, or they'd go unpaid. I promised myself I'd never kneel for anyone. A king is still a man. I won't lower myself."
"Please, Nolan, kneel. You are in the presence of the king," the emissary pleaded.
Nolan lifted a glass of wine and sipped it while standing. Three royal guards stepped forward and drew their swords, moving toward Nolan. Nolan smiled as they advanced, ready for them to strike.
"Stop," the king said. The guards froze and stepped back. "There's no need to force him. Let everyone stand."
"Are you sure, Your Majesty?" the emissary asked.
"Yes. And are you sure those knights you sent could handle him?" Rovanis the king added. "We are among guests, not subjects to be humiliated. It's fine; allow it." Obediently, everyone rose, including Linda.
Nolan looked at Celia and Linda. "You two — never kneel for anyone," he said firmly. "I don't like it. Don't even kneel for me. It's not right to lower yourselves in front of another human. You're proud — an elf and a demi-human. Show respect to the king, yes, but not by kneeling."
"All right, Master, we won't," Celia replied.
"Understood," Linda added.
"Please, everyone, look this way," the King called, and all the contestants turned toward him.
"Thank you for being here. I'm very glad you put on such a show. From this day forward your lives will be better—because even if you do not win, I can offer you positions as Royal Knights, with generous pay.
"I also need to address the incident involving Cora. What she did was wrong. She appears to have taken his voice and then continued to attack a helpless opponent who could no longer defend himself. The audience—and the common people—were rightly disturbed by that. Smiling as you cut someone is unacceptable. I won't tolerate fights that devolve into wanton cruelty. If you defeat an opponent who is powerless, spare them. Declare your victory and stop. That is the conduct I expect in this tournament."
Then every contestant turned their eyes toward Cora, their expressions full of disgust.
Why are they all looking at me like that? Cora thought, her fists tightening, lips pressed together so hard her teeth gleamed white. I won. I played by the rules. Some pity their opponents when they fall unconscious, but I don't. I took my opponent's leg and fed it to my Red Wolf—that was my choice. Why should they have a problem with that? Why?
Kyrion placed a steady hand on her shoulder, leaning close.
"Don't bother with what the others think. It doesn't matter how we win, we'll still use what we have. Remember, you can use that skill to bolster your immortality. The technique is called Consume Life. Don't forget it. They may talk, but it changes nothing. Even if your opponent is about to die, leave them alive inside the arena. But outside? That's different. You still win."
"Okay, master," Cora said, ignoring the stares of the other contestants.
And congratulations to everyone — you all were outstanding and victorious. You didn't lose a match. Let's make a toast, the king said.
A butler brought a glass of wine to him; he raised it, and every contestant filled their own glass and lifted it with him. Then they all drank at the same time, including Nolan, Celia, and Linda.
"Wow—so fancy, such tasty, luxurious wine," Nolan said as he sipped. "I wonder how much this costs."
When the toasts finished, the king turned and walked away. "All contestants, please listen," the emissary said. "Everyone who has lost during the previous matches has been fully disqualified."
"What? You mean Zero hasn't lost?" Lucian asked.
"No, he hasn't," the emissary replied. "But some who failed to participate in the next round are in critical condition—Doro, for example, after his fight with Cora. Zero will return. Those who are eliminated will first fight among themselves; the strongest of the eliminated will earn the right to move forward and challenge you, since some of you haven't fought yet."
"That won't matter — anyone who's already shown their strength will be a piece of cake for me," Osric said.
Wow, that's a smart choice, Nolan thought. But it also means that the first round — with over four hundred and fifty contestants — no longer matters. Everyone who failed back then is already gone. What matters now is this most recent group, the five or so who lost along the way. They'll have to fight each other, and the strongest among them will move forward. It might even be the knight Paladin, Zero. He really is strong.