Opening Ceremony, Part II: Captains of the Royal Guard

Then, the announcer's voice rose across the coliseum, sharp and clear:

"Captains of the Royal Guard — step forward now with your chosen champions!"

The crowd stirred like a living creature — nobles adjusting parasols and craning their necks, enchanted doves scattering from the rafters. All eyes turned to the far side of the arena.

The announcer's voice rang again:

"From the First Division of the Royal Guard… led by the one hailed as the strongest in Yurelda… the Blade of Winter — Captain Setsuna!"

A hush fell over the coliseum.

Only then did two figures step into the light of the arena.

Setsuna emerged from the eastern gate, white hair catching the sun. In the center of the arena, a massive snowflake emblem blazed to life, formed of shimmering light, hanging in the air for all to see before slowly fading. His stride was calm, almost lazy, but the weight of his presence pressed against the crowd like cold air before a storm.

Beside him, and a step ahead, walked Kazuo.

"His chosen champion… the newcomer — Kazuo!"

Kazuo was trembling.

Each step felt wrong, the marble beneath him cold as ice. The navy-blue jacket clung tight, his fingerless gloves damp with sweat. Above, the deafening sea of voices pounded until his pulse throbbed behind his eyes.

"Just walk. Don't trip. Don't collapse. Don't throw up…"

He didn't dare look up — but the pressure of a million stares pressed in on him like waves.

"Kazuo — selected under the personal authority of His Majesty, King Cedric of the Inner Crown — enters this year's Tournament of Nobles… with royal approval."

"Let it also be known—his elemental affinity is Water Magic."

A pause.

The arena erupted like a stirred beehive.

"Water Magic?"

"That's rare…"

"There's no way a black-eyed slave could use it."

"Wait, so he is noble…?"

"But look at his other eye…"

The crowd split — murmurs sharpening into shouts, whispers becoming outrage, support, confusion.

From the squad stands above, Tetsu muttered, adjusting his glasses:"So that's how he's playing it… Frame Kazuo as a noble through Water Magic. That'll shut up most of them. But now his magic's exposed. No surprises left. Calming the crowd while giving Kazuo a disadvantage."

Next to him, Sora waved both arms like she was signaling a passing airship."YOU GOT THIS, KAZUUUUUO!!"

Kazuo drew a sharp breath and stepped into the center of the stone platform. The runes flared beneath his feet, glowing faintly.

This was reality now. Thousands of voices. Thousands of eyes. All focused on him.

He looked up just once — and froze.

High above, on the royal balcony, sat King Cedric. Watching with cold eyes. Beside him, Lady Elyria.

Kazuo's heart thudded harder. He forced himself to look down again, to the stone beneath his feet.

The silence of the battlefield pressed in around him.

Yet behind him, Setsuna's gaze was elsewhere.

He was watching the sky, where the banners hung heavy in the wind.

Something doesn't add up.

He said nothing aloud. But his thoughts were racing

The tournament had always followed order. Eight participants — a smooth number for even matches, each drawn from one squad. Each banner raised above to mark them.

That was tradition.

So why… are there nine this year?

The announcer's voice rang out once more, now with a dramatic flair.

"Representing the Royal Guard's Second Division — the Amethyst Gale herself, Captain Shiranami — and her chosen fighter, Lyria of the Thorn!"

This time, the cheers weren't just loud — they were thunderous, almost reverent.

The doors of Room Two opened.

From the northwestern gate, Captain Shiranami emerged.

She was tall, statuesque, clad in a form-fitting violet outfit trimmed with silver, its design elegant yet faintly revealing — a cut at the shoulders, a slit at the thigh, enough to suggest allure without diminishing authority. Her hair flowed in long, wavy strands of silver-white, almost glowing in the sunlight as it fell to her breasts. Her violet eyes — sharp and cold — swept across the crowd like a queen surveying her court.

In the center of the arena, a massive crystal emblem shimmered into being, scattering prismatic light across the stone before slowly fading away.

At her side walked her participant — a younger girl with silky black hair that fell in gentle waves to her shoulders, framing a composed, almost doll-like expression. Her violet eyes mirrored Shiranami's exactly. She wore a battle dress laced with petal motifs, and her boots left no sound on the stone.

Just before the central platform, they stopped to follow protocol.

A handshake with the prior entrants.

Shiranami extended her hand, her eyes never leaving Setsuna's.

Setsuna clasped it lazily, his smirk more mocking than polite.

"You still never change your hairstyle," Setsuna said with a lazy grin. "I told you before — I like it better when it's tied."

"And you still refuse to act like a captain," she replied icily.

Kazuo awkwardly reached out to Lyria. She accepted his hand with practiced grace, her touch light and deliberate, as if it were a formality rather than a gesture. For a moment she simply held it, her violet eyes lingering on him with a quiet, curious glimmer that softened her doll-like composure.

That was when he noticed them — violet eyes. Just like Gramps.

His breath caught. Wait… she has them too?

But before he could say anything, she gave a soft hmpf, pulled her hand back, and turned her head aside — her expression slipping back into cool distance, as if nothing had happened.

Then his gaze drifted upward — to Captain Shiranami. And there they were again. The same violet eyes.

They both have them…

"Your eyes… they look just like—"

"Shh—"

Setsuna cut in smoothly, placing a firm hand over Kazuo's mouth.

Kazuo blinked, caught off guard.

Shiranami raised a single eyebrow. "Hiding something, Setsuna?"

"Always," he replied with a casual grin. "Keeps things interesting."

She ignored him, shifting her gaze to Kazuo.

Her voice was sharp like glass.

"Don't flatter yourself. If anything of Setsuna clings to you, let it be his strength… not his lack of sense."

Kazuo nodded quietly, unsure how to respond.

With that, she turned — her long white hair flowing like a curtain behind her.

Lyria followed, elegant and silent. The two stepped onto the arena platform like synchronized crystal blades, catching the sun as they moved.

Kazuo let out a breath and pulled Setsuna's hand off his mouth. He turned to him waiting for an explanation.

Setsuna's voice dropped lower.

"That squad… they're the only all-female unit in the Royal Guard. The only ones with violet eyes. Even among nobles, that color's impossibly rare — some say it's a sign of purity… or something older."

Kazuo didn't respond.

"So it's true… Gramps really is a noble. And if their eyes matched his… are they… somehow related to him?"

The question hung in his chest like a stone.

"Now's not the time for that, Kazuo," Setsuna said, his eyes fixed forward yet fully aware of the question burning inside him.

Kazuo blinked, then gave a small nod. He understood — this wasn't the time or the place.

He swallowed the thought.

Later, he told himself. I will ask her later.

The distant rumble of another gate shook the arena — and a new presence stepped forward.