Chapter 115: Final [1]

"Now! Ladies and gentlemen! The unexpected final match is about to begin!"

The announcer’s voice boomed through the colosseum, met instantly with a wave of cheers and thunderous applause from the audience.

"Will both finalists please step onto the stage!"

I didn’t waste a moment. As soon as the words left his mouth, I was already walking toward the center of the arena.

Just like the announcer said—this was the final match. But no one had expected this matchup.

Everyone had assumed Gareth from Group B would be the one to make it this far. He was the obvious favorite. But instead, here I was—Julies Evans, a servant of the Draken Duchy—standing in the finals.

A dark horse, they called me.

On the other side, Group A had been brutal—filled with powerful contenders like Amelia Frost, Serina, and of course... Lady Alice Draken. There were others, sure, but I hadn’t bothered remembering their names.

And now, the one standing across from me in this final match was—Alice Draken.

"As expected, you managed to reach the final," she said, stepping gracefully onto the stage.

"Of course, My Lady," I replied, giving her a mock bow. "It was your command, after all."

She chuckled softly at that...



After the light exchange of her words, I fully looked at her.

She usually wore full plate armor, but today, there was a slight difference.

"You’re not wearing your helmet."

"I deemed it unnecessary for a duel with you. It would only hinder my vision."

Thanks to that, her striking silver hair flowed freely, and her piercing blood-red eyes were on full display—clear, focused, and unwavering.

Around us, the atmosphere was electric.

The audience was absolutely buzzing.

"Lady Alice!"

"The pride of the North! Crush that outsider!"

Voices rang out from every corner—some filled with hope, others with barely hidden spite. Many of the competitors I had already defeated were jeering, hoping to see me fall.

From where I stood, I could also hear murmurs among the knights observing the match with sharpened gazes.

"The West produced a better fighter than expected."

"It’s been a while since she fought humans. Her swordsmanship’s probably too tuned for monsters. She’ll need to adapt."

Their eyes flicked between us, calculating, analyzing, waiting.

The tension was tangible. Magic buzzed faintly in the air.

Even the betting stands were alive with movement.

"Get your wagers in! Lady Alice’s odds are dropping!"

"Two-to-one she wins before the fifth exchange!"

Despite the noise, I kept my eyes on her.

Alice’s posture was flawless. Her grip on the sword, steady. Calm.

There was no underestimation in her stance.

She saw me as a real threat.

And I—

I welcomed that.

Still there was one thing that was annoying at the moment.

...And that was jeering.

Normally I wouldn’t bother with them since they were jeering at me since the start of the compition but the sound of those voices could be clearly heard then before.

The jeering from the audience only grew louder.

"Send that outsider crawling back to the West!"

"Lady Alice, finish this quickly!"



"Why is a servant even here?!"

Their words were sharp, laced with disdain. I heard them clearly—every sneer, every dismissive shout. They didn’t hide it.

I stood still, not reacting. I’d long grown used to it.

But then—

"Enough."

Alice’s voice cut through the noise, cold and clear.

"A warrior is a warrior," she said, her crimson eyes narrowing as she turned to face the crowd. "Region means nothing in a fight. Bloodline, status, heritage—none of that determines strength."

The colosseum quieted slightly, her words hanging in the air.

"A true knight respects strength, regardless of where it comes from."

I blinked.

It was subtle, but my gaze shifted back to her.

Because that... wasn’t what she used to believe.

Back then, when I first entered her service, she had looked at me with cold judgment. I remembered her words well—sharp and heavy with pride.

"—A position like this should go to a Northerner. Not some outsider from the West."

Now, she stood beside me—defending my place with the same voice she once used to deny it.

My eyes lingered on her a moment longer, and maybe she felt it, because after a heartbeat of silence, she glanced at me.

Only to look away just as quickly.

"...Forget the past," she muttered, almost too quiet for anyone else to hear.

But I heard it.

I smirked faintly. Just a little.

"...As you command, My Lady."

She didn’t reply, but the faint color rising in her cheeks said enough.

The announcer’s voice broke the moment.

"Both fighters! Ready your weapons!"

The crowd cheered again, though quieter now—uncertain. Some watched with renewed curiosity, others with a grudging hint of respect.

I shifted my stance and exhaled, focusing.

Alice stood before me,her eyes forward once more.

This time, there were no doubts between us.

Only the fight.

"Just so you know—don’t even think about going easy on me. That would be an insult to my pride as a noble."

"Wouldn’t dream of it."



The thought of holding back was laughable.

Especially since, judging by recent records and her performance, I wasn’t even the favorite to win.

"How could I afford to be complacent against someone I might barely beat, even if I gave it everything I’ve got?"

"The match—begin!"

The sharp voice of the referee cut through the air, and in that instant, all unnecessary thoughts vanished.

Alice quickly draw her sword with lightning speed and dashed towards me, whithout giving much choice but to defend.

"Ugh...!"

...Her strike were swift, precise and most deadly of them all it was fast....Very fast.

My eyes struggled to follow the tip of her sword aiming to pierce my leather armor, and my legs had to work just as hard.

Alice, catching my eye, let out a small laugh.

"Your movements are slower than during our spars. Is it a stamina issue?" Alice asked, her sword already pulled back for the next strike.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t afford to.