The thunderous cheers echoing through the Colosseum of Caelora gradually faded into uneasy murmurs.
Across the cracked marble arena, the remnants of the semifinal battle still lingered vividly—pools of water spread across the battlefield while deep scars carved by raging winds remained etched into the towering walls surrounding the stage.
At the center stood Prince Noah, breathing heavily. His combat attire was drenched and torn apart from the previous battle.
On the opposite side, Elara trembled visibly from overwhelming mana exhaustion.
From the spectator stands, Sylveras clenched his fists tightly.
Even from a distance, he could see how pale Elara's face had become.
"They've both reached their limits," Sylveras muttered under his breath.
Beside him, Brant could only nod silently, his gaze still fixed on Rossie as the healers carefully carried her away from the arena.
Meanwhile, within the cold and damp players' corridor beneath the Colosseum, Elara slowly made her way toward the arena gates.
Every step felt unbearably heavy.
Her joints throbbed painfully from the magical impacts she had endured during the previous round.
At the intersection of the corridor, however, she encountered Rossie, who was being transported on a stretcher.
Elara stopped immediately.
Her mind briefly recalled the warm conversation they had shared earlier that morning at Riverside Bakery & Brew.
"Rossie," Elara called softly, her voice nearly gone from exhaustion. "That was… an incredible battle. I never imagined someone could control four spirits at once so beautifully."
Rossie lifted her bruised and battered face toward her.
Despite her exhaustion, she forced out her usual playful smile.
"Hah… turns out the ocean really is too deep to blow away, Elara. Noah's an absolute monster when it comes to defense." She let out a weak laugh. "Now it's your turn… don't let that stiff prince win too easily, alright?"
Elara nodded respectfully as Rossie was carried away.
But the moment she stepped onto the arena and stood opposite Noah, the atmosphere within the Colosseum turned strangely cold.
The audience stared at the two finalists.
Both looked utterly broken.
"Is this really the final match we've been waiting for?!" someone shouted from the upper stands.
"They can barely lift their own arms! This is going to be boring!"
The complaints spread quickly throughout the stadium.
Hearing the unrest among his people, King Alexander—the ruler of the Kingdom of Urtz—slowly rose from his throne atop the highest royal platform.
He would not allow the Sage Examination, an event that would shape the kingdom's future, to end in disappointment simply because the finalists had exhausted themselves too soon.
The king raised one hand.
"Silence!"
His voice thundered across the entire Colosseum through amplified rune magic.
"I refuse to let this noble examination wither away before its climax. Guards—bring forth the sacred gifts for the finalists!"
Two royal guards immediately stepped forward carrying silver trays.
Upon them rested two oval-shaped eggs glowing with a soft pearl-blue radiance.
Bardfish Eggs.
The entire Colosseum fell silent.
Those who understood the value of such items gasped in disbelief.
These eggs were an extremely rare delicacy harvested from the sacred rivers of Aquaris, each worth over one hundred and twenty thousand Gurtz.
Noah and Elara each accepted one.
The moment they consumed the eggs, an extraordinary reaction occurred.
A gentle blue light enveloped their bodies.
The bruises along Noah's arms visibly faded, while warmth and color slowly returned to Elara's pale face.
The mana that had previously been drained dry now surged back within them, pulsing stronger and steadier than before.
Noah straightened himself once more, the calm yet deadly aura of Abyssal Tide flowing around him again like a silent sea.
Across from him, Elara raised her staff.
Pure golden light radiated from her body once more.
The true final battle—
—was only now beginning.
Far beneath the northern stands of the Colosseum, hidden within a dark and isolated waiting chamber, Lurk Sisilia sat collapsed against the floor.
His bandaged fists repeatedly slammed against the stone wall until blood seeped through the cloth.
"Damn it… damn it all!" he growled hoarsely, his voice filled with humiliation and hatred. "How could I lose to that girl?!"
For someone as ambitious as him, defeat before thousands of spectators was an unbearable disgrace.
Then suddenly—
The temperature inside the room dropped sharply.
A faint yet rotten stench slowly crept through the shadows.
The same demonic scent Fenrath had detected earlier.
From within the darkness, a deep and silky voice echoed directly inside Lurk's mind.
"You thirst for victory… do you not, Prince?"
It was Numrath.
"The light has abandoned you… but darkness always welcomes those who crave power."
The shadows around the chamber twisted unnaturally.
"I can give you the strength to take revenge upon everyone who mocked you…"
Lurk's dim eyes slowly began to glow with a faint violet light.
The seed of darkness had begun taking root within his shattered heart—
preparing a catastrophe that would soon erupt amidst the kingdom's celebration.