Once again stuck within a damnable carriage, Lucian had rode with Takis to the location of the High Clash. Thankfully it was within the capital of Karnath, and so the ride was not long.
Peering out the curtain as they rode by, he saw the streets in a festive mood, as travelers and tourists filled the streets and entertainers made a living.
The High Clash would be held in a gladiatorial ring situated in southern Karnath. A grand structure of hard stone pillars and arches, it had been used for blood sports in the older days of Demia, though gladiatorial combat was now outlawed in the capital.
These days, the great arena had been used to host ceremony, competitions, and other events.
When they arrived, a large armed escort at least a hundred in number shielded the prince as they entered through a VIP entrance, and scaled long steps to reach the highest platform of seats in the audience.
Most others had already filled the rings of seats, and the contestants were already engaged in preliminary battles, large free-for-alls taking place within three marked areas of the huge arena, and multiple referees watching each.
Despite the fullness of the audience, all notable members of the many martial sects and noble houses, the higher seating for the royals were mostly empty, excluding Archduke Ballas who greeted not just Takis, but the both of them as they entered.
"Your Highness, Sir Valaran, I hope you're doing well."
"Never better Archduke Ballas, thank you. How was David this morning?"
Takis replied politely while Lucian gave a nod and a small bow, taking his place behind the prince as his focus rest on the surrounding crowd, followed by the battles taking place.
"Bah, the boy's filled with spirit as if victory is a sure thing. He could use a loss here if you ask me."
The Archduke's son, and aide to prince Takis, David Ballas, was not present here, but preparing for the tournament. He was still barely in the 3rd stage and so able to compete in the tournament.
Like the princess, he did not need to perform in the preliminaries that still raged on at the moment, but would instead fight from the first round onwards.
As Takis continued to politely speak with the Archduke, Lucian watched the battles with a judgmental eye.
'So many different fighting styles, but they are all so… sloppy. Surely this isn't the best our kingdom has to offer? No, the princess is an alright fighter, even with her lower cultivation, and David's pride isn't unfounded. Perhaps those in the preliminary are just not good enough.'
One man in his mid-late twenties with grey eyes managed to catch his attention. The man was skinny and tall with swift and fierce movements. He always took an aggressive stance, but never stupidly so, and he was very good at deceiving his foes with feints and misdirection.
As he fought, others seemed to lose their calm quickly and become flustered, panicked even, as they endured his assault.
'Perhaps not all is lost. That one will go far.'
Never did he consider it arrogant or self-important to stand there judging those a decade his senior. To Lucian, skill was skill, regardless of all else.
Another stood out to him. A woman with flowing silvery-white robes that seemed to dance around her foes. Smooth redirections and deflections made a perfect soft defense, while she moved constantly, and used the momentum and power of others against them.
Whenever she was attacked, strikes always found themselves just short of their target, just to far to one side, or just too slow or too fast, as if everyone were cooperating in a perfectly choreographed play fight.
'That makes two.' he thought happily. 'Perhaps I was too harsh, most among them are definitely hiding what they can. But there really are far too many down there. Half of them still struggle with their own bodies and lack the control needed to make the most of their cultivation.'
"What are you thinking about?" Takis' voice rang out and Lucian turned to find he and the Archduke looking at him.
Smiling, he said "Just that I think His Grace's wish will not come to fruition. David shouldn't find much trouble."
The older man frowned the tiniest amount when he started speaking before his brows rose in glee as he laughed. "I can't say that does not warm my old heart, whether he needs a lesson or not."
One of the three preliminary battles were called to an end as enough of their number had been trimmed down. That was soon followed by the other two, and Lucian noted without much surprise that the two he had noticed both passed without injury or fatigue.
A few others among the preliminary fighters also caught a little attention, as he believed they were purposely hiding their skill level as much as possible.
All who made it through the preliminary stood with straight backs, some bowing and waving, others showing stoic pride as the audience cheered for the victors.
From the contestant's entry, all the guaranteed competitors who had not participated in the preliminaries filed out and Lucian spotted the princess at the front of the line, walking alongside a girl from the Floating Rivers sect. When all contestants were gathered, as if having waited for that moment, King Magnus entered their seating area from the back, followed by a group of Dukes and Archdukes of royal blood.
Everyone in the Colosseum stood and bowed, only because the common seating did not allow for kneeling.
With a wave of his hand, the King dismissed them all before running a stoic gaze over everyone present, finally landing on the contestants in the ring below.
"You have already heard the words of ceremony, I shall not repeat them.
"Fight well and with honor. Good luck to you all."
An applause rung after his short words, and the host standing among the referees in the arena began to announce the match ups for the first round.
"The tall one." Takis started. "That's Glaider's heir, Faidon Glaider."
He didn't say any more, but Lucian nodded as he kept his eyes on the man. He could see the relation now, the tall and thin frame, and the well defined face that would be called refined rather than handsome.
After the match ups had been announced, all but two contestants left the arena, and the first round officially began. It wasn't anything particularly interesting to Lucian. Two women fought, both daoists, one with a series of flying knives and another who fought with palms alongside rushing winds that trailed her wake and complemented her movements.
The latter had him thinking of his blood river that followed him in combat for a short while in the Cinderheart sect, but he soon shook his head. He could never reach that girl's level of instinctive control, even with bonded will. Perhaps in the 5th stage, when the will itself was cultivated, he could achieve what this daoist girl did in the 3rd. But by that point those like her would be capable of filling city block with flames and freezing great swathes of land.
'Developing ranged capabilities is fine, but don't lose your focus' he told himself.
Without realizing it, he circulated a bit of power throughout his body and felt the primed, explosive nature of it. He needed to cultivate himself, to make himself a weapon, not the winds or the flame.
'But that white light… It's too powerful to simply ignore.'
As he was thinking, the first round came to an end with the flying dagger user's victory. Her weapons had been unimpeded by most of the winds and managed to cut through in a pure offensive assault long before the wind-user could hit her stride.
More matches took place as Lucian stood by Takis and watched every exchange. Princess Irina won her first match with ease, as did the son of Count Glaider, and the young woman he'd noticed, Sara Ranil of the Twisting Fates sect.
All in all there would be three rounds to determine the top eight, those that would enter The Maelstrom. Then another three rounds for the sake of competition.
In the second, everything went more or less as expected, right up until Faidor Glaider's second match. He'd had his opponent, a bald man in his mid thirties, on the ropes for most of the fight, so much so that Lucian thought Faidon would have to be a metahuman.
The bald man's confidence seemed to weaken in the face of the Glaider youths assault, just as his prior opponent had, revealing with practical certainty the type of arts the young man cultivated.
A combination of feints and viper-like strikes weakened the bald man to certain defeat, needing only a final strike to end the battle. But as that final palm struck towards the bald man's chest, Faidon's hand erupted with tongues of flame and flowing embers, as an incredible amount of blazing energy struck at the bald man's internals, forcing blood from mouth and nose as the older man flew backwards, his chest burnt black.
Lucian, as well as many others leaned forward with scowls, while some others in the audience cheered and laughed at the grand display.
Faidon stood straight backed and swept his eyes slowly through the royal seating area.
The man he'd struck down and severely wounded was a commoner cultivator recently given a landless title by the king. He was new age nobility, and he would take a very long time to recover from that final strike.
"Oh to be young" King Magnus' low voice rang out only loud enough for those nearby to hear. It held none of the wistful or well natured tones that often accompanied the saying, only frigid cold.
Lucian discreetly peered at Count Glaider within the audience. The thin man's mustache was raised in agitation and his frowning eyes bore holes through his son on stage.
Glee entered his eyes as he turned to find Takis smiling.
'He knows his father's stance and he is reckless enough—young enough—to make blatant errors.' The king's words echoed in his mind and soon Lucian too was smiling.
'Oh to be young. The weakest link.'