"Yo." A voice spoke from behind Nemesio, halting Jurgen mid-step as he recognized it. He turned swiftly toward the source, only to meet the young Emperor— the one he had seen at the start of the trials. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew him from somewhere… or perhaps he was mistaken.
Gohon!
Aha — that cough clicked. Even the way he adjusted his glasses felt far too familiar. Jurgen's tone shifted into mild curiosity, momentarily ignoring the pounding pain coursing through his body.
"You… I feel like I know you from somewhere."
"Ah, you really are hopeless." He stepped out from behind Nemesio casually, adjusting his glasses once more.
"You seriously don't remember me?"
"If you're going to say your name, then say it. If not, get lost."
Leonidas' hands flailed wildly as he burst out in exaggerated, almost comedic anger.
"Hey! What the hell is that attitude? Do you realize I'm an Emperor of Mercedes?!"
"Hmph!"
Jurgen turned his head away with an exaggerated expression, clearly uninterested in anything he had to say.
"Show some respect, you fool! I'm an emperor — an EMPEROR!"
He fumed, pointing at himself dramatically, his irritation boiling over as he continued flailing, his widened eyes and dramatic gestures making the entire scene unintentionally amusing.
A soft laugh escaped Nemesio, clearly amused — both by Jurgen and the comedic situation unfolding before him. He had taken a distinct interest in Jurgen; there was something about the boy that felt special in a way that was almost unsettling, something that didn't quite sit right with him… or perhaps he was simply overthinking it.
Through the tension, loud bangs echoed from the arena. The other participants were already engaged, and each fight ended rather quickly. It felt strange that only his match had stood out so much, but at least they would now move on to whatever assessment Kimura had been rambling about.
He noticed Blackwood being attended to at the far back, not too distant from where the three of them stood, a bit far from the arena. The jaw he had shattered had already been set back into place — it wasn't surprising, considering Blackwood had shown signs of self-recovery in his previous state. Coupled with the healers' assistance, it was nothing that impressed him anymore.
But from the looks of it, the recovery was far from perfect. He could tell Blackwood was still in considerable pain, perhaps as much as he himself had endured. Seeing that, he felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.
"Hey! Hey! I'm standing right he—"
Leonidas' voice rose again, only to falter as it was drowned out by Jurgen's thoughts.
"Heyyyy!"
"Shut the hell up! Your voice is like daggers in my head… what the hell?!"
Leonidas' eyes twitched wildly, veins bulging at his temples. He gritted his teeth, shoulders tensing as though he might lunge at Jurgen at any moment.
"What the hell did you just say to an Emperor?"
His voice carried both anger and frustration, though the awkward tension between them remained unmistakable. Jurgen quickly adjusted, forcing a nervous smile in an attempt to ease the situation.
"I'm sorry, alright… don't eat me up."
"That guy… who the hell is he?" Viktor asked softly, glancing at Moshi beside him. His eyes had been fixed on Jurgen the entire time, from the fight to the moment he stepped out.
"Oh, him?" Moshi replied flatly, sarcasm dripping from his tone.
"Oh him—" he pointed toward Jurgen,
"that's, uh… the Emperor's younger brother's assistant who has a friend that's related to him."
The reply came in an oddly serious tone, as though he actually knew what he was talking about.
"What? Are you messing with me?"
Viktor's voice carried a note of annoyance; he couldn't tell whether Moshi was being serious or not.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"You bastard!" Viktor sneered.
Moshi threw his hands up, shouting exaggeratedly at the top of his lungs.
"How the hell am I supposed to know who he is?! Hell, I don't even know who you are!!"
Viktor gritted his teeth, irritation flashing across his face. He couldn't decide whether to stay angry or admit he had asked a pointless question.
He ultimately shrugged it off with a scoff laced with mockery.
"Not like I expected more from a weakling."
"You throw around the word 'weakling' quite casually for someone who is rather weak himself."
The comeback landed heavily on Viktor. He snarled back at Moshi, a low growl slipping out, his expression practically inviting a test of strength.
"How about we test who the weaker one is between us?"
Their argument gradually faded into the distance.
Leonidas exhaled slowly, a composed and deliberate breath as he steadied himself. His gaze then settled fully on Jurgen's pathetic state, the bruises scattered across his body and face, most notably his arms, which had darkened under the sheer force he had endured.
"That's… rather unsightly."
"Why… thank you! As if I deliberately put it there myself!" Jurgen snapped, his voice laced with dry, mocking irritation. He winced sharply as pain surged through him, a consequence of his overexertion.
Gohon!
Leonidas adjusted his glasses with measured composure before extending his hand toward Jurgen.
"Grace of Recovery…"
A faint radiance shimmered around his elbow and fist — luminous, refined, a golden current that coiled and flowed with quiet elegance. It seeped into Jurgen's flesh and bone, working its restorative effect with remarkable precision. He had never witnessed anything quite like it. The darkened bruising gradually receded, leaving his arm restored to its former state.
Jurgen flexed his arms, his gaze following the movement with a faint, satisfied smile as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
The recovery was clean — far cleaner than he expected. It still surprised him that Leonidas was a healer, and a remarkably capable one at that. Compared to him, the healers assigned to the injured participants had seemed almost perfunctory in their efforts.
He recalled, faintly, how they had tried to approach him earlier, only to hesitate.
His expression shifted slightly.
No that wasn't right.
He dismissed the thought almost immediately. There was no reason they would be wary of him. If anything, it should have been Blackwood who unsettled them, not him.
It wasn't his fault they chose to keep their distance.
Yes… that made more sense.
"That's… a rather useful ability," he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the integrity of his healed arm.
"It seems you possess a dull memory. I'm Pierre… Pierre Findler."
"Who?" Jurgen asked, his brow furrowing, still visibly perplexed.
Veins bulged across Leonidas' forehead, his shoulders tensing with restrained frustration — how profoundly forgetful could one be?
Jurgen simply stared back, genuinely baffled, blinking twice in the strained, lingering silence.
Leonidas drew in a slow, measured breath before exhaling sharply. He reached up, removed his glasses, and revealed his softer, more delicate features — now fully exposed for Jurgen's frustratingly dull memory to process.
"Pierre? The one who led you here? The one who saved you from getting beaten over an apple you took without paying?!"
"Ohhh! That's why you looked familiar! You're that nerdy-looking guy!" Jurgen snapped his fingers, pointing as though he had just uncovered some profound revelation. It had finally clicked.
"I am not a NERD!" Leonidas burst out, arms flailing upward in exaggerated, almost cartoonish rage, stopping just short of his own face.
"Okay, okay… calm down. No need to swallow me whole," Jurgen said, blinking rapidly as he raised a hand between them, his eyes deliberately avoiding Leonidas' furious glare.
"Heh… heh…"
"Enough from both of you," Nemesio interjected calmly, his gaze drifting toward the arena as the final match came to a close.
"Marcus, let's go. Jurgen, join the queue and listen carefully to the announcement…"
"Marcus? So that's your real name?"
"I prefer Leonidas… and what exactly is wrong with the name Marcus?" Leonidas replied, his tone edged with expectation, as though anticipating another careless jab.
"I never said anything was wrong with it."
Jurgen deliberately kept his gaze averted, avoiding eye contact in an almost comical manner, clearly holding back whatever he actually wanted to say.
"Good. Because I have my eyes on you."
Leonidas stepped closer, closing the distance until he was mere inches from Jurgen's face. He pointed two fingers toward his own eyes, then toward Jurgen's, emphasizing his warning with a distinctly awkward intensity.
Leonidas' eyes, positioned uncomfortably close to Jurgen's face, flicked subtly toward a presence behind him. Jurgen instinctively leaned back to follow his gaze before turning sharply to look over his shoulder.
Bubbles stood there with a nervous yet composed smile, offering a small wave —clearly he had been there the entire time. Jurgen was slightly taken aback by his presence.
"What… who are you again?"
The question came with genuine curiosity, though his focus quickly shifted to what he deemed more important. Surely… he hadn't forgotten Bubbles as well, right?… right?