Chapter 107: Grand Northern Martial Tournament [2]

"Man, I’m getting goosebumps all over my body."

I couldn’t help but mumble under my breath as I stared at the colosseum and the number of participants gathered here.

"It is as expected. After all, it’s the greatest event of the North."

Alice, who was standing beside me, nodded her head in satisfaction after witnessing my expression.

I glanced at her and couldn’t help but chuckle.

After the Bjron incident, Alice Draken was back to her usual poker-faced, icy persona.

But after a few days, she began to let go of her failure to capture Bjron... bit by bit.

And after that, she was back to her normal mood.

It wasn’t anything grand or obvious—just small things.

Like how her gaze lingered a little longer when I spoke, or how she’d respond with a faint smile when I cracked a joke, even if it was a bad one. She didn’t outright laugh, of course. That’d probably take a miracle. But the ice was melting.

"Still, it’s overwhelming," I muttered, scanning the crowd.

The colosseum was alive with noise—cheers, laughter, clashing metal, and the low hum of anticipation.



People from all over the northern territories had gathered here, dressed in all manners of fashion.

Nobles flaunted their wealth in embroidered cloaks, while mercenaries and adventurers stood in worn-out leather and iron, sizing each other up like wolves sniffing blood.

This wasn’t just a tournament. It was a stage.

A declaration of strength.

And everyone here knew it.

"Unfortunately, we are in different groups."

Yes, we are.

It’s really uncertain whether that’s purely coincidental or arranged.

Anyway, being in different groups in a tournament-style competition means there would be no match between Alice and me until the finals—if at all.

She, of course, would make it to the finals without any trouble.

In her group are promising and strong mercenaries who could handle most monsters easily. And let’s not forget Amelia Frost from the Frost family.

She’s a genius in magic.

Aside from her, there might be even more individuals who’ve kept a low profile until now—wildcards, hidden talents, people who’ve trained in silence just for an opportunity like this.

You can never really underestimate anyone in these kinds of events.

Especially in the North.

"This year’s line-up is pretty stacked," I muttered, tugging at my collar. "Feels like we’re all here chasing glory with broken compasses."

Alice glanced at me. "What an odd metaphor."

"Comes with the nerves," I replied, offering a half-smile. "I mean, some of these guys look like they were born swinging swords. And some... probably have never been touched in a fight. Too polished."

She didn’t say anything, but I caught the quick flick of her gaze scanning the competitors in the nearby staging area.

Her eyes briefly stopped on a tall man in red armor, then another woman with daggers strapped to her thighs and a serpent tattoo coiling up her neck.

Yeah. She was gauging the threats.

"You don’t have to worry so much," I said. "I know you’ll make it to the finals. Probably won’t even break a sweat doing it."

She arched a brow. "That sounds like you’re planning to lose early."

"Not planning to," I said with a shrug. "But let’s be real. I’m not the main character here."

"Don’t be stupid," she replied curtly. "You’ve been training hard. You’re smarter than most. And you’re irritatingly lucky."

I blinked. "Was that... praise?"

"It was an objective assessment," she said, looking away, the tip of her ear reddening slightly. "Don’t let it go to your head."



I chuckled.

That was the closest thing to encouragement I’d get from her. And honestly? I’d take it.

"I have one order for you."

"Now, don’t tell me to lose to you on purpose, knowing that you would lose to me in the finals, My Lady."

Alice didn’t even blink.

"If you ever hold back against me," she said, voice low and sharp, "I will personally drag you back into the arena and make you fight me until you collapse."

"...So violent," I muttered under my breath, raising my hands in surrender.

She folded her arms. "This isn’t about winning or losing, Julies. It’s about how you fight. If you slack off because of some misplaced chivalry or friendship, you’ll be insulting me."

I stared at her, taken aback by the intensity in her eyes.

She was serious. Dead serious.

And somehow, I could feel that this wasn’t just about the tournament.

It was about pride. Resolve.

Everything she’d gone through since that night in Bjron—every mistake, every scar—she was carrying all of it into this fight.

"I get it," I said quietly. "I won’t go easy. I’ll fight like I want to win."

"Good."

A long pause settled between us, filled only by the buzz of the crowd in the distance.

"...And I also want you to beat the crap out of Gareth Valstein."

—Crack.

Apparently, she didn’t stop at encouragement. Her hand clamped down on my shoulder with so much force, something audibly popped.

"Ow! That hurts!"

"Oh, did I overdo it?"

She said it coolly, but the way her expression twitched—lips pressing together, eyes flicking away—was a dead giveaway. She looked... embarrassed?

A rare sight.

Almost immediately, she cleared her throat and switched topics, clearly trying to sweep the moment under the rug.

"So, what’s your answer?"

"Was that even a real question?" I scoffed, rolling my shoulder with a wince. "I’ll smash that smug face of his and make sure he’s out before the main rounds. Don’t worry."

I grinned with full confidence.

After all, I’ve sparred with Alice Draken and won before.



...Sure, it was only once. Out of ten matches. But still, a win is a win.

Details, really.

—Ding Ding Ding!

Just then, the bell signaling the start of the match rang out in the colosseum’s waiting room.

—Participants, Jack Byron and Julies Evans, please move to your designated positions.

As my name echoed across the waiting room, a ripple of tension ran through the crowd.

"Well," I exhaled, rolling my shoulders one last time. "That’s me."

Alice nodded silently, her expression unreadable.

I turned to walk toward the tunnel leading to the arena but paused just before stepping in.

"Watch closely, Lady Draken."

She didn’t reply. But I felt her gaze on my back, sharp and steady.

Somehow, that was enough.