Chapter 168
Chapter 168
Ziros muttered, "Why do I suddenly feel like this woman... resembles Alavin so much?"
Nelsor sighed, "They're cut from the same cloth!"
The distant crowd of onlookers, however, was thrilled by the spectacle, cheering for more.
After some discussion, the Organizations’ Commanders bestowed upon Eyla the title—Blood Elf!
And so, the grand tournament of The Clash of Eight Orders had concluded, and the Top 5 Protégés had been named. Their titles echoed through the Northlands.
The Stellar Precepts’ 'Twilight Guardian,' Darron.
Bloodlore’s 'Blood Elf,' Eyla.
The Earthbound Spirits’ 'Relentless Warhawk,' Orland.
The Stellar Precepts’ 'Violet Flame,’ Jackar.
Cobalt Strike’s, 'Shadowlord's Messenger,' Alavin.
The elite five had been proclaimed, and from this day forth, their names would be heralded across the Northlands.
In every organization, Protégés applauded and cheered, and yet many remained in silence.
Was it over? The four tumultuous days had passed so swiftly! Over seventy fierce battles had been fought, taking down so many strong fighters without mercy or opportunity. Defeat meant the end.
It was that brutal!
This was what the Eight Orders intended with the tournament, to teach these self-proclaimed geniuses that reigning supreme within their own organization did not guarantee fame in the Eight Orders, to humble their pride, and to them see themselves clearly. When they returned to their organizations, they would practice diligently and grow earnestly.
"It's over..." Roald's feelings were complex. His long-awaited chance for glory had slipped away. He felt like a mere background, noticed by the organizations before the contest but lacking any standout performance during it.
“I am Cobalt Strike's Golden Protégé, a peer to the prodigious Celesse, and the captain of this year's Cobalt Strike team. Why has it come to this? Are the other organization's Protégés too strong, or am I too weak?” Roald thought.
Semar, Felis, and others had mixed emotions as they looked up to the top four and thought of Alavin, staying silent.
Were they feeling slighted? Honestly, a bit. Not by the top four, but by Alavin.
Why Alavin? It could have been anyone else, but why him?
...
In the manor, Nikulas and Balder tended to the wounds of Alavin and Cedrick. They didn’t hurry to leave, choosing instead to stay and keep the two company.
Balder sat in a wicker chair in the room, gauging the time. "It must be about over, right? I wonder who made it to the top five this year."
Mariela watched the slumbering Alavin in silence.
"Mariela, you should rest. I'm here," offered Balder with a joyous expression, always cheerful.
"Did the Commander visit yesterday?"
"Yes, he came to see Alavin."
"What did they talk about?"
"How could I dare eavesdrop on the Commander's conversation? Hehe, I wouldn't dare."
"How will the Mollen family treat Alavin now?" Mariela never expected Alavin to achieve such results, but now that the top five were named, his fame would rise across the Northlands, and even the Five Lords would take note. How would Cobalt Strike treat Alavin? And how would the Mollen family value him?
"If I may be so bold, Mariela, why do you seem quite concerned about Alavin? I mean no offense, just curious."
"He holds a secret of Cobalt Strike." Mariela was certain now that Alavin must have struck a deal with the Chained Spirit; otherwise, he could not have achieved such a breakthrough or shown such potent lethality. She worried that in his eagerness to grow, Alavin had lost himself or fallen under the Spirit's control. Or perhaps Alavin harbored resentment towards Cobalt Strike, and the Chained Spirit held a grudge, and both their interests aligned in agreement.
She once promised her mentor to ensure the safety of the Chained Spirit, making sure it would not harm Cobalt Strike. However, she never imagined Alavin's growth to be so rapid, to the point where he might slip from their control. This had caught her off guard, and she was unsure of how to report to her master—should she inform him immediately or keep it hidden?
With an endearing smile, Balder reassured, "Since it's a secret, I won't pry. But don't worry. Alavin and I are friends, purely."
"A piece of advice for you. The Mollen family's investment in mages is not misguided, but best steer clear of organizational feuds. It's a game you can't afford to play."
"Thank you for your counsel. I'll take it to heart."
"Take good care of Alavin."
"Rest assured. I'm here," said Balder, seeing Mariela out and softly closing the door behind her.
Alavin's eyes opened, gaze unfocused as he stared upwards.
"Need a potion?" Balder presented a jade vial filled with several precious Magical Remedies.
"Thank you," whispered Alavin.
Balder's smile was warm and friendly. "What are friends for? No need for thanks. I only help you to enter the tournament; all the glory is yours alone."
"Do I now have enough esteem for the Mollen family to take notice?"
"Of course!" This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.
"Then help me with one more thing."
"Name it, and if it's within my power, it's done."
Alavin's eyes sharpened. "Loan me five hundred assassins!"
"Ah?" Balder's mouth hung open, taken aback.