Internal

After the bald man was escorted away to have his injuries tended to, and Faidon Glaider returned to the contestants area, the tournament continued on without much delay.

Irina struggled in the second round. She was the only 2nd stage cultivator to pass the first round, and even with her high quality techniques and better than average skill, it took everything the princess had to best her opponent and enter the top 16.

Glider had no issues, and openly displayed the techniques of the Cinderheart sect before the King's apathetic gaze. The woman from the Twisting Fates sect also won, though her opponent was a stressful one, filled with brutal strength that tugged at her nerves throughout the fight. Despite that, she fought well and with a smile almost completely throughout.

David Ballas made a show of his battle, using his cultivation above most others to secure an easy victory.

It was truly an eye opening experience for Lucian, watching and observing so many different cultivation arts and techniques, all from 3rd stage cultivators. Not all in his generation of the Clarke Estate had reached the 3rd stage by graduation, and of those that did he was already used to their methods.

Watching these contestants now, he felt as if he had forgotten something. Like he was doing something wrong but couldn't recall what for the life of him.

'What is it? This damned feeling.'

Takis raised a brow at him and Lucian shook his head, removing the irritated frown he'd worn.

This time too Faidon Glaider ended his fight with excessive force, and again his opponent was of the new nobility. He swept a calm gaze throughout the royal seating every time as if making some profound point and seemed wholly impressed with himself.

'Turn around you fool' Lucian thought as he suppressed a chuckle. The young man's father, Count Glaider was staring so hard at his son's back that fire practically spewed from his eyes.

The third round began, and this time Princess Irina was the first to fight. Her opponent was a mid 3rd stage daoist. While the sects had those in the late 3rd stage, or even at the peak of it, it was a matter of honor to not send seniors into the tournament.

After all, even if they fit the requirements of "below the 4th stage", this was at its heart, a competition for the outstanding youths in the kingdom. To send a senior who'd spent the past decade stuck in the 3rd stage was to shame yourself before the eyes of the kingdom, and prove your current generation lacking.

That said, mid 3rd-stage at what Lucian estimated 30 or so years old was very good for a non-meta, and the man was not so conceited as to hold back against the young girl, striking with a fighting style that seemed to mimic the ferocity of lightning and the force of thunder.

In fact, electricity truly did trace his arms as he struck, and loud echoing booms rang out with every hit.

'An augmenter. He cultivates lightning as something internal.'

When Princess Irina manifest a domain of falling autumn leaves, her figure shifted and changed places erratically among the falling leaves, using peculiar footwork and crafty approaches to outmaneuver her stronger opponent, ending with a hard punch to the man's gut that exploded with chilly winter energies and sapped his strength.

From there, she managed to seize control of the battle, ending it with a fiercely swift spinning back kick to the man's jaw, bringing her leg down slowly, confident it was over.

Too confident in Lucian's eyes, but she was right. The man did not stand again until the battle had ended and he regained his wits with the announcement of the victor.

'Internal.' Light shone in his eyes despite the frown that had reappeared on Lucian's face. 'Internal lightning.'

More fights played out below, until seven of eight fights were completed.

Like the rounds before, as if planned, Faidon Glaider was to battle in the final fight. His opponent, the girl — a young woman Lucian realized — from the Floating Rivers sect who seemed to know Irina.

The battle started explosively, and the Glaider heir made no effort to disguise his use of Cinderheart techniques, striking with swift, explosively hot strikes.

Despite the all too literal name of the Floating River sect, the woman did not actually manifest water or chill in her combat, but rather mimicked the flexible, flowing nature of it in her fighting style. She used a spear with a wooden shaft more flexible than Lucian had ever seen before, and somehow mastered its erratic movements.

Using the range advantage of her weapon, the woman whose name had been announced as Selene, took an offensive stance that did not lose at all to the fierce assault of her opponent, matching his every strike with one of her own and then some.

While it was fierce, the battle did not progress easily and soon began to drag on. Faidon Glaider, having practiced the Cinderheart method, could fight for so long as his will to continue remained, up until the moment his body shut down to protect itself.

Selene on the other hand, was taking panting breaths after a while and lost her offensive advantage, retreating as she fended off her opponent. The spear had evidently become heavy in her hands, and her arms drooped.

'It's over' He thought. The surroundings cheered loudly even as the fight stretched on for so long, and he could not help but shake his head.

'I wish I could take part. Do they not do these things for elders, or those of the 4th stage?' His eyes swept the contestants, those on stage weaker, but older than he by a few years, followed by the crowds and their eager excitement. He enjoyed battle, he loved relying on the fruits of his labor to compete and stand against another. But he fought so rarely now that he was beginning to forget that.

'If only I was still in the 3rd stage.'

That claustrophobic feeling crept back, as if constrained by the smallness, and he felt a tinge of loneliness.

Shrugging his shoulders, he made an effort to expel the feeling and closed his eyes. When they opened again a second later, he was breathing strangely, having expelled all thought to take up the tranquil state. It was more comfortable this way.

Faidon landed strike after strike on the woman, Selene, from the Flowing River sect. He had not shown himself to use kicks often, and Lucian knew the man unskilled in it, but he kicked at her legs often, as if wanting to slowly weaken her before attempting to end the battle.

With a feint, he baited out a poor movement from her spear, and then struck it from a perpendicular angle with his other hand shaped like a palm. The wooden spear bent wildly, not breaking, but it's rebounding, spring like movements forced it out of the woman's weakened grip and drew blood from her hands.

Disarmed and tired, Selene stumbled backwards, but Faidon did not take the chance to finish the fight.

'Internal lightning' The thought surfaced within his tranquility once more.

Faidon Glaider shrugged his shoulders arrogantly, despite his own heavy breath and sweat matted back. Striding forward, his hands began to collect energy as cinders manifested and flowed in the air.

'Internal.'

Forming a claw shape with his hand, the Glaider heir struck at the woman's face, his fingers each heated red with energy, the index and middle fingers just so happening to line up with the woman's eyes.

The tranquility shook for a second as Lucian's wandering thoughts returned to reality.

'He's— What on earth is he doing?!'

It wasn't his job, but before he had realized it, power was circulating fiercely within his own body. It was an impulse, he was caught off guard, and tried to stop a sudden tragedy.

In his mind, he saw a brilliant white light, and before he knew what had happened, Lucian saw the fiery claw-shaped hand that had aimed for the woman's eyes now closing in on his chest.

With one swift and flowing motion, he caught the wrist of that hand with his right, twisted and squeezed as he pulled it around to force the man onto his knees.

'What on earth…'

He was in the arena. His eyes glowed a brilliant white that dimmed down by the second, as an aura beyond his own means faded from his body.

He heard a scream of pain among the shouts and cries of surprise that only now registered.

The tranquility left him in a flood as he took in the surroundings, the many guards drawing swords at the borders of the arena, and Count Glaider up in the audience shouting with a venomous expression.

"Seize him! Stop that man!"

Another cry of pain and Lucian realized he had broken the wrist he held in his right hand. Letting go with a start, Lucian turned to find the young woman of the Floating Rivers sect backing up, confused, scared, thankful, and tired.

His eyes moved to the royal seats, and Lucian bowed, giving halt to the guards that had moved onto the arena now.

Takis turned urgent eyes to King Magnus and spoke low words before his father silenced him, raising a hand slowly, signalling the guards to fall back.

Lucian thought he was saved from the misunderstanding, but the monarch's cold words spoke differently.

"Seize him" The command echoed loudly despite the low tone of voice.

'Seize? Wait!'

Lucian opened his mouth to voice his urgent surprise, but before he could, three cloaked figures appeared at his side, their approach going entirely unnoticed until it was too late. They did not attempt to seize him though, instead two grabbed at the arms of Faidon Glaider and extended them behind his back, forcing the man onto his knees.

The third held a spear high, placing it's cold tip against the nape of the man's neck, drawing blood as he pushed the man's head down until his forehead hit the ground.

It had all happened in one incredibly smooth and coordinated instant.

Lucian sighed in relief and held a bow in the direction of the king.

"What is the meaning of this Your Majesty?!" Count Glaider roared, joined by many others with whom he had deep connections.

Chaos and shouts filled the air, accusing questions yelled and no time given to receive an answer.

"Silence!" The King's shout drowned out all else. Like the roar of a lion, impossible to ignore and daring anyone to disobey.

For three whole seconds, nobody made a sound.

King Magnus IV stood slowly from his large throne-like chair in the audience, his imposing frame revealed as an unclapsed cloak slid from his broad shoulders.

With a few slow and steady steps, he made his way to the balcony of the royal seats, and swept his cold greenish-blue eyes over the crowds.

Finally, his eyes landed on the young man forced to his knees, forehead on stone ground, and he spoke with calm seemingly absent the furious might of his earlier roar.

"Faidon Glaider. Twice already you have exhibited excessive violence in this prestigious event, harming the forces of my Kingdom." He emphasized that last bit. "Now, you attempt to maim and disable the future of my Kingdom with cruel and blatant actions. You show not just a lack of respect, but a defiance to the authority of the crown, and shame your family in so doing."

Count Glaider winced at the last part, but still stared defiantly at the king.

"I am witness to your crimes of treachery, bordering treason, and will see you meet punishments fitting your crimes, whatever I find them to be. Does any one of you present here dispute my claim?"

With the threat of potential treason looming, and the King labeling himself a witness, none dared to argue. Even Count Glaider, though his teeth gnashed and his fists bled with his clenching of them, he did not dare to dispute the claim.

If Faidon was found guilty of treason, the punishment would fall on more than just the heir of the family. He himself might be buried without a head.

Lucian, standing in the arena next to the cloaked men restraining Faidon, maintained a stoic expression and a straight back despite sweating bullets.

'This has taken a turn for the worst. I don't want my face associated with the fall of Glaider's heir!' He turned his head downwards just enough that none in the audience could see it, and made it look as if his head was bowed to the King. But his silhouette was a relatively unique one at 6'5" with broad shoulders and a muscular build. Not to mention his long black hair.

Long hair wasn't very common among Demian men, but he liked his, and would rather not have to cut it off. Employing Featureless, the will technique for appearing common and forgettable, he hoped it would be enough.

'So long as the King keeps all attention on himself, I should be fi–'

"Sir Valaran, you have my thanks for acting when you did. I will see to it that you are rewarded for your dedication." The King's ever cold voice called down like the proclamation of the devil, crushing his dreams of remaining inconspicuous.

Almost sighing, Lucian knelt to accept the honor under the eyes of the nobility and martial experts of Demia, before walking off stage through one of the many exits as soon as possible. He would still need to return to the Prince's side, but leaping up to the royal seating didn't seem proper at the moment.

"Thank you." Said a soft voice as he passed by Selene of the Floating Rivers.

"No problem." He said with his best smile and nod, hoping he didn't look like he regretted it.

When he had escaped the light and attention into the interior of the Colosseum walls, Lucian thought back to what had just happened.

'Internal light'

Willing it once more, the trueblood within him pulsed to create a vast amount of lifeforce, which he condensed into that white light. He did not conjure it outside his body as he always had, but within.

It raced a circuit through his body in an instant before vanishing, the aftereffects leaving an incredible amount of power that died down over a few seconds. Power beyond his standard.

But with that power, a strain like no other.

With a groan, he smiled brightly.

One more thing to get better at.