The air carry the scent of warm pastries, a mix of buttery sweetness and tangy citrus.
He stood before the buffet table, his gaze drawn to the vibrant colors. Ruby-red berries nestled in a creamy white tart, golden caramel swirling in a custard, and the deep, rich brown of a chocolate mousse.
His snow-white hair, framed a face that was both handsome and serious. His purple eyes, darted across the table with a stern gaze, their bitter intensity are very different to the sugary delights that surrounded him.
He reached out, gently hovering at the delicate pastry, its frosting a sweet shade of pink. He examined it for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration, then carefully draw it back down. He repeated the process with several other desserts, his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable.
The servants, watching his struggle, exchanged nervous glances.
"Goodness," one whispered, "He's been staring at those pastries for ages. Is he alright?"
"Maybe he's just trying to decide which one to choose," her colleague whispered back.
"But there are so many!"
"That's the problem!"
"Uhm.." a third servant mumbled, her eyes fixed on him. "Sir Mikhail? Would you like some help?"
He didn't even blink. His gaze remained fixed on a particularly intricate chocolate sculpture, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if he were trying to decipher a complex equation.
The servant, a bit flustered, cleared her throat. "Sir?" she repeated, a little louder this time. "I just thought... maybe you'd like some suggestions? The lemon tarts are very popular today, and the chocolate mousse is always a favorite."
Mikhail's purple eyes met hers, a gaze so intense it made her shiver. For a fleeting moment, she felt heavy, as if a large bolder was place on her entire being. But then, the intensity vanished, leaving behind a cold, impassive stare as he shook his head.
The servant, feeling a bit shaken, retreated back to her station, muttering under her breath, "Well, I tried."
'No need to trouble her,' Mikhail thought. 'I can manage on my own.' but in truth, he just didn't want her to see his struggle, his indecisiveness.
"Dad.." a young girl said, standing beside him with a plate in hand, "Why don't you pick something? You're making the servants nervous."
The girl's innocent golden eyes held a blank expression, mirroring her father's. Her silky white hair, was pulled back with a pair of cute penguin hairpin on both sides.
Mikhail finally turned his attention to his daughter, his expression a bit troubled, "They're just doing their job, Roxy." he said, his voice low and steady.
"But they're also human, Father, they have patience too." Roxy replied, her tone flat and uninflected. "And they're probably wondering if you're going to eat anything or just stand there and stare at their creations,"
"But which one should I choose?" the man said, his voice uncertain. "They all look so... delicious. I can't decide, and i also don't want to eat too much."
"Father," Roxy said, getting a little impatient. "Just pick one. It doesn't matter which one. Mom is waiting."
His eyes glued to the tempting array of desserts, Mikhail finally made his choice. He reached out and picked a small pastry with delicate pink frosting. It was a simple choice, and it's the first candidate of his taste, so it should be done.
"Thank you," he said, his voice a bit softer this time. "I appreciate your help."
Roxy's sighed, she's just content that it was all over. "You're welcome, Dad."
As they walked away from the buffet table, he couldn't help but feel a tightening in his chest.
'The time is getting close.'
His daughter chattered about the tournament, but he couldn't focus. His thoughts were consumed by the man he's fully familiar with. A man he had once considered a friend, a rival he had respected.
'That bastard..'
His fist clenched, a tremor running through his hand. The memory of their last encounter, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth, was etched into his mind. He wouldn't let that happen again.
This time, he will win.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The garden is filled with excitement as the final battle of the tournament unfolded. The crowd roared, their cheers echoing through the field.
Kara was perched safely in her mother's lap, watching the spectacle unfold. She witness with wide eyes as two figures clashed in a flurry of combat.
"Davel's opponent is quite skilled," Glory praise, her gaze fixed on the battlefield. "They're's not making it look easy this time."
"Oh, he's just playing with them," Cloress chuckled, a grin lighting up her face. "Knowing him, he'll be saving his best moves for the grand finale."
The two fighters moved with incredible speed and power, their weapons flashing in the sunlight. The ground trembled with the force of their blows.
Davel commanded the center of the battlefield, his presence radiating confidence. He moved with effortless grace, a whirlwind of power, a force of nature that seemed unstoppable.
"It looks like he's just warming up," Glory said, shaking her head with a smile.
"And to think he just breeze through his disciples as if they were mere paper. This man," Cloress added.
The black-haired man watched his opponent stumble, their sword clattering to the ground. A silent, confident smile played on his lips as the crowd erupted in a thunderous roar, celebrating his victory.
He turned around, eyes searching the crowd. Then he looked at their direction, his face breaking into a wide smile. He raised his hand in a wave, his expression transforming into pure adoration.
"Kara!" He shouted, his voice booming across the field. "Look at your daddy!"
The crowd chatter, their laughter echoing through the gardens. The rookie students watched, bewildered, as their Commander displayed a side of himself they'd never seen before
He's like a doting father, his heart overflowing with love. The man who commanded respect with a single glance was now a man consumed by affection.
A blush crept up the brunette's cheeks. The air had been serious a moment ago, but now it was as if a switch had been flipped. The atmosphere shifted, leaving her unsure of how to react.
Everyone was looking at the young lady their Commander is so proud of, each gaze were filled with amusement.
"Huh?" She become aware, bullets of sweat automatically run down her forehead.
'Please stop looking at me!' she hid her face in embarrassment, her tiny hands barely covering them.
Her mother chuckled, her hand gently stroking the brunette's back. "You're papa is showing off, darling."
Kara pouted, her eyes fixed on the lovely man. He was still waving, his smile growing wider. She couldn't help but feel a bit awkward, but also felt a warmth spreading through her chest.
"Such a lucky papa," Cloress said, her voice filled with sincerity as she looked at the young child. "To have a daughter like you, Kara."
The warmth spread more, and she could feel it more through her face. 'Fine.. I'll let it off this time.'
Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd. As Kara looked down, a figure stepped into the devoid battlefield. He moved with a quiet grace, his presence commanding attention. The crisp white of his dress shirt, a stark contrast to the royal blue of his torso, was a sight that drew gasps from the crowd. Their murmurs turned into excited whispers, their eyes glued to his every move.
"Who is that?" Kara whispered to herself, brows furrowed in confusion.
She looked at her mother, hoping for a bit information, but she just smiled, her eyes twinkling with surprised and delight.
"Hey, hey.. Is that the Storm Pillar, Mikhail?!" A woman said in the crowd, one of the KnightGuard. "He's Commander Davel's friend, right?! I heard they were teammates before."
Kara raise an eyebrows, her confusion growing. Stealing a glance at the knights who are below them, she couldn't help but listen to more.
"Fighting against the Sky Shooter himself." a man chimed in excitedly. "The two of them were quite the pair back in the day. Not only that, they are rivals as well!"
"Being partners and rivals at the same time.. this is going to be interesting~" the first woman whispered, her voice laced with anticipation. "It's been years since they've faced each other."
Kara looked at the figure in the arena, his purple eyes fixed on Davel. A powerful presence, radiating an aura of mysterious strength.
"It does feels like ages ago, huh?" Glory murmured, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "Eight years... you guys immediately set off to travel the world after graduation."
"We couldn't help it, with such an ambitious leader," Cloress chuckled, her hand gently stroking her pregnant belly. "I remember that time you tracked us down. The look on his face when he saw you..."
"Can you blame me?" Mother retorted playfully. "He left without a word, and I heard he was traveling with you guys. Who wouldn't be upset?"
"Four years of adventure," Cloress replied, her eyes twinkling. "And five years building a family. Even before I married Mikhail, we were already expecting Roxy."
"To think you two got a head start on us," The chestnut-haired woman chuckled, her eyes filled with fond memories. "It was quite a surprise back then."
Kara looked at her mother and aunt, their faces radiating a soft affection as they reminisced. It dawned on her then that Mikhail was Cloress's husband.
And that the four of them, 'They were a team, adventuring the world together...' She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy.
The thought of them, a tight-knit group, exploring faraway lands, filled her with a yearning she couldn't quite name. '..Must be nice,'
"I thought you were dead," Davel said, a grin spreading across his face. "I heard you'd gone on a mission, and might have lost your way home."
Mikhail's lips curled into a slight smile. "You know me too well," he replied, his voice icing cold. "But i'm not that kind of idiot, unlike you."
The tension in the atmosphere suddenly thickened, palpable to anyone.
The crowd senses the unspoken rivalry, they fell silent. The two woman accompanying Kara, however, remained unfazed, their expressions calm and composed. It was as if they were used to this kind of back-and-forth.
"Well, it's good to see you're back," Davel said, his grin widening. "Though, I must say, you've been indulging in too many sweets lately.. "
"And you, Davel," he countered, his voice flat and uninflected, "You've aged a bit. Those years haven't been kind to you, have they?"
Davel's face twitched, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a chuckle. "You're still as sharp-tongue as ever, Mikhail."
Kara looked at her mother and aunt for the second time, expecting them to do something.
But their faces were unreadable, quite relax, actually.
And they seemed to be enjoying the exchange, but she couldn't understand why.
'What's with this setting?'
Her eyes return to the battlefield where two mens were about to duke it out. It seems like there are conflict between them, their tension feels like a force of wall that can send you flying if you were to interfere.
Their gaze are like.. a glazing bird and frosting wolf that sees each other has predators.
Davel, his black hair windswept, stood poised, his eyes locked on his friend.
The fight for dominance..
Mikhail in contrast, was a statue of stillness, his purple eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating light.
The crowd held their breath, their whispers a hushed murmur. Kara watched, rooted in place, feeling the intensity of the atmosphere thrumming through. The two figures stood frozen in a silent standoff, their gazes locked in a battle of wills.
"Oh my.." Glory voice out, barely a whisper.
Kara could sense her mother's movement from her back, she glanced at her. The woman searched the crowd, finding the person in mind, she called out to them.
"Is there anything i can do for you, Madam?"
"Ethel, please activate the field barrier." She whispered, gaving him a knowing smile.
"Barrier?" Cloress asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why?"
"Just a precaution, for the visitors sakes, at least.." Mother replied, her voice laced with a small hint of seriousness. "You know Davel. He tends to get a little carried away."
Ethel, his face a mask of composure, nodded silently. He reached into his coat pocket, retrieving a small, silver device. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he pressed a button, and a shimmering dome of light slowly expanded around the battlefield.
It was a protective barrier, designed to contain any excess energy or collateral damage, a precaution against the potential chaos of the upcoming duel.
This type of gadget is still new and currently distributed around the continent, primarily to high-security areas and arenas like this one, where powerful Arcana Warriors frequently clash, worried free about damaging the surrounding.
"Mom," Suddenly, a young girl with white hair streaked with purple, appeared behind them. In her hand, a neatly folded vest that seems too big for her."I'm here."
Cloress turned, a warm smile lighting up her face. "Roxy, my dear. You're just in time." She pulled the girl into a hug, her voice a soft murmur in her daughter's ear. "How was the food?"
"It was good," she replied, but her voice was unimpressed, "I think i'm going to have seconds. But i want to watch the match first.."
'Her tone doesn't really match her words.. Did she really enjoyed the food though?' Kara couldn't quite grasp how she was so inexpressive, 'Cool.. cool and aloof.. Kuu..dere...?'
Maybe that was it.
"It's nice seeing you again, Auntie.. Thank you for inviting us.." Her tone changes in a polite manner.
"Likewise, Roxy An. I'm happy that you can still remember me, you were so little when we last visit your home." Glory reply with a smile, impressed by the girl.
"I have great memory." She reply, sounding confident.
Kara looked at the girl, eyebrows furrowed in observation.
'If this was an otome game, she could have that vibe of an 'unobtainable' character type. The onee-san of the love interest you wish you could date instead..' It was a strange sense, but it never bother her much.
"I hope you haven't gone rusty," Davel relax as he stretched, his voice a low growl that vibrated through the screen. "But I doubt you've forgotten how to fight."
Mikhail shoot back coldly, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I've been waiting for this moment for years," he hissed, his voice laced with malice.
The white-haired man took a measured step forward, his form shimmering with a veil of frost, like a second skin. It pulsed with an aura of raw energy, and the chill in the air prickled the brunette's skin.
"Let's see if you're truly deserving of that spot, " Mikhail challenge as he drew a sword, his voice like a cold steel blade. "Champion Candidate.."
Davel's eyes narrowed, a flicker of amusement dancing on his lips. He didn't answer, his silence stance a thunderous roar of defiance.
The air thickened, a palpable force that hummed between them. Kara gulped, sensing the tension growing like a storm cloud. The silence was deafening, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.
They were ready.
Then, in a flash, the silence shattered.