Near the central plaza, Bimoth stood with a group of Gate members, his massive arms crossed as he listened to a fishman nervously recount an incident. Mel approached, tossing the bag of money into the fishman’s grasp before turning to Bimoth.
“What’s wrong?” Mel asked, immediately noticing that someone was missing. His brows furrowed. “Where’s Goda?”
Bimoth exhaled sharply, nodding toward the fishman holding the bag. “He, uh… got caught selling batter in Yarlford, in the Auroria Dominion.” His voice was tense. “They kidnapped him and are demanding a ransom.”
Mel’s expression hardened. He stepped forward as a holographic screen flickered to life, displaying Goda trapped inside a glass tank, bound and beaten. The water around him shimmered ominously.
Mel inhaled slowly. Then exhaled. Calm. Focus.
“Bimoth, wanna take a trip to Yarlford?” His voice was steady, but there was a quiet edge to it. “It’s a small town. Shouldn’t be too hard to find him.”
Bimoth nodded immediately, following Mel as they ascended toward the surface of Atlantis. They climbed onto the docks, seawater dripping from their clothes. Bimoth ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking it out with a heavy sigh.
After a beat, he spoke. “Have I ever told you how grateful I am that you took me in?” His tone was serious, his eyes cast downward as he walked beside Mel.
Mel reached into his pocket and pressed a button. In the distance, his sleek black car whirred to life and drove itself toward them, stopping perfectly at their feet. As they slid inside, Mel gripped the wheel and started driving.
“Yes. Every time you wanna ask me for something.” His tone was dry, but he smirked slightly.
Bimoth placed a hand on his chest, taking a deep breath. “Are you and Althara a thing?”
Mel nearly swerved off the road.
“What?! No! Why the hell would you think that?” He shot Bimoth a scandalized look before refocusing on the road.
Bimoth twirled his fingers absentmindedly. “Well… do you think I have a chance?”
Mel raised a brow. “A chance with what?”
“With Althara.” Bimoth’s voice was completely serious. “The other day, I grabbed her waist to kick Varziel in the face. I think we’re meant to be.”
Mel blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, he remembered—Bimoth, despite being an absolute powerhouse, was still just a sixteen-year-old boy. A massive, battle-hardened warrior… who had never had a girlfriend. Or a first kiss.
Meanwhile, on a small remote island, Michelangelo—better known as Goldman—stood overlooking his private training grounds. Nearly five hundred men, all clad in golden garments with matching golden hair, moved in perfect unison as they trained under the scorching sun. The rhythmic clash of weapons and the disciplined shouts of warriors filled the air, but Goldman barely paid attention. Reclining on a golden lounge chair, he soaked up the sun, a goblet of liquid gold swirling lazily in his hand.
A sharp presence approached. Goldman lazily lifted his sunglasses as Nomak stepped forward, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit.
“Huh? Your name’s Nomak?” Goldman mused, taking a sip from his goblet. “And why exactly do you want to join my gate?”
Nomak adjusted his cuffs, standing with perfect posture. “Yes, as you may already know—”
Before he could finish, Goldman spat out his drink in a spray of shimmering gold, drenching Nomak’s suit.
“Wait a damn minute! You’re the guy dating my sister, aren’t you?!” Goldman blurted, sitting up. Then, as if lost in nostalgia, he leaned back with a wistful sigh. “Ahh, my dear Leonardo… How’s she been? Big sis still scary?”
Nomak calmly wiped the golden spit from his sleeve with a napkin, his expression unreadable. “She’s well, sir. She knows I’ve taken a job, but she has no idea I’m here.”
Goldman let out a relieved chuckle, then froze. “Wait! She doesn’t know where I am, does she? Shit, she still wants to kill me, doesn’t she?” He laughed, shaking his head. “So tell me, why do you want to work for me?”
Nomak exhaled slowly, closing his eyes.
Flashback – Wrath Kingdom
Inside the throne room of the Wrath Kingdom’s castle, Nomak walked through the grand hall, past rows of knights standing at rigid attention. At the end of the room, on an elevated platform, loomed the king—a towering figure whose face remained hidden in the shadows.
The room was eerily silent until the king’s hand crashed into a mirror beside his throne, shattering it into countless fragments.
“Who the hell are you?” the king demanded, his voice thick with restrained fury.
Nomak didn’t dare meet the ruler’s gaze. He lowered his head, speaking with measured calm.
“Your Majesty, my name is Nomak. I have come to ask for your sister’s freedom.” He hesitated, then continued. “She is bound to this kingdom only because you refuse to let her leave… and that’s not right. Leonardo is my love, and she is dear to me. Please, let her go.”
A heavy silence filled the room.
Then, in a blur of motion, the king raised his foot and drove it downward—stopping just before it made contact with Nomak’s face. The sheer force of the impact sent a shockwave through the hall, shattering windows behind them.
Nomak’s nose began to bleed from the sheer pressure in the air.
“You’re testing my patience,” the king growled. “Get out of my sight. Marry her, have children, do whatever the hell you want. But she stays in Wrath.”
Blood dripped from Nomak’s nose, but he didn’t falter. He bowed deeply.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Present
Goldman stood up and stretched, his muscular back rippling as he let out a satisfied groan. “I see, so you’re here to make money, huh?” He grinned, sharp and sadistic, as gold coins slowly trickled from his mouth, clinking softly onto the ground.
Nomak remained unmoved, his eyes locked onto Goldman’s. “Indeed, sir. I’ll do anything and more.”
Goldman nodded, amused. Then, he leaned down, his grin widening. “Of course, I can’t just let anyone in without testing their strength first, ya know?”
Without hesitation, Nomak peeled off his shirt, revealing his chiseled physique. “Naturally. Strength is best demonstrated, not spoken about.”
Goldman took a long sip from his goblet before smirking. Then, with a sudden motion, he tore his own shirt off, flexing. “The primal urge to rip your shirt off before a fight… It’s irresistible.” He chuckled, rolling his shoulders.
Nomak took a step back, settling into a fighting stance. “You were one of the Renaissance Kings, a warrior who fought legends like Merlin Shadowbane. Am I even safe fighting you?”
Goldman rubbed his nose cockily, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, you’ll be fine. A few months ago, Melanthius Shadowbane nearly snapped my neck, so I’m a little rusty.”
Before Nomak could react, Goldman disappeared in a golden blur, reappearing behind him with a powerful punch aimed straight for his spine.
Nomak’s instincts kicked in. His eyes widened, and at the last second, he kicked Goldman’s chair into the path of the attack. The impact shattered the chair into splinters, and Nomak rolled out of the way just in time.
Goldman let out an annoyed sigh, staring at the wreckage. “Damn it. That was my favorite chair.” He looked up at Nomak with a smirk. “Pretty slick with props. What, you think you’re Melanthius or something?”
Nomak didn’t answer. Instead, he launched a high kick at Goldman’s head.
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The strike connected, snapping Goldman’s head to the side.
For a brief moment, there was silence. Then, a slow, amused chuckle rumbled from Goldman’s throat. He turned back to Nomak, a wild grin on his face.
“Nice.”
Nomak landed in a crouch, his breath sharp and labored. “He’s strong. Too strong.” He wiped the trail of blood trickling from his nose. “Still, Leonardo is stronger, and I’ve endured her training—“
His thoughts were cut short as Goldman’s backhand sent him hurtling through the air, crashing into the side of a golden house with a thunderous impact. The world spun as he forced himself up, his body protesting with every movement.
Goldman let out a hearty laugh, lounging back as a golden chair materialized beneath him. “Good job, boy! You passed!” He grinned, swirling the molten gold in his goblet before taking a slow sip.
Nomak staggered to his feet, limping but resolute. He clenched his fists and bowed his head. “Thank you, sir. I may have passed the test, but I lost the fight. Please… don’t take pity on me.”
Goldman waved a dismissive finger. “Relax. You’ll toughen up. Anyway, I’m placing you in my Shadowbane section.”
Nomak’s jaw tightened. “Shadowbane section? As in Melanthius Shadowbane?” His voice darkened, his posture stiffening. “Sorry, sir, but I see him as my mortal enemy. I can’t—”
A golden spike shot from Goldman’s wrist, stopping mere inches from Nomak’s eye.
The air grew heavy. Goldman’s expression had lost all amusement. “Watch your tongue,” he said, his voice quiet but menacing. “Don’t disrespect my student.”
Nomak swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Slowly, he bowed his head.
“Yes, boss.”
Back in Solstice City, Mel sat in Anita’s room, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. Althara and Bimoth were there too, the mood tense.
“Well, the sales business was a bust,” Mel admitted, exhaling sharply. “Goda’s kidnapping threw everything off. They took our supply and left him. We have more, but I can’t risk it anymore. I need a way to get recognition—fast.”
Anita, lying on her bed, suddenly perked up. “Wait… isn’t there that sky jousting tournament? Remember? The one you trained Elowen for?”
Mel crossed his legs, raising a brow. “Yeah? What about it?”
Anita sat up with a smirk. “You should join. It’s a worldwide tournament. It’s not even being held in Auroria this time—that’s how huge it is.”
Althara rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “If you want the Seven Deadly Kingdoms to take notice, winning a tournament like this would definitely put you on the map.”
Mel rested his elbows on his knees, deep in thought. “I am pretty good at flying a hoverboard… but that was Elowen’s dream. It wouldn’t feel right taking her spotlight. That’s the main reason I never considered it.”
Althara sighed, leaning forward. “Well, if you want to get her back, you have to do something. And if you want to learn more about yourself, you have to take action.”
Mel closed his eyes for a moment, then let out a slow breath. “Fine. I’ll do it.” His fingers traced the bracelet on his wrist—Elowen’s gift for his birthday, the purple cloud and lightning charms glinting under the light.
“And when I do… I’m going to win.”
Leonhart Bowling Alley – Pride Kingdom
The Leonhart Bowling Alley stood eerily empty, its polished lanes gleaming under dim overhead lights. Though the place was deserted, the lanes remained operational. King Liam casually picked up a bowling ball, rolled it down the lane, and watched as the pins crashed into a perfect strike. His Gate of Knights sat silently on one side, observing. Without pause, he picked up another ball and rolled it again.
Midway down the lane, a second bowling ball hurtled into his, shattering both upon impact. Liam’s gaze flickered to the source—King Carter, standing at the opposite lane, arms crossed. Carter’s own knights sat on the other side, equally watchful.
“So,” Carter said, his tone casual but laced with underlying tension. “You came all the way to my kingdom just to talk?”
Liam cleared his throat, grabbing another ball. “Just wanted to check in. How’s business?” He rolled another strike.
Carter matched him, sending his own ball straight down the lane for another perfect shot. “Business is business,” he said coolly. “I’m hosting the sky jousting tournament, but it won’t be in the Pride Kingdom. I’m holding it in a foreign territory—makes it harder for anyone to track me.”
Liam hummed in amusement. “You know, I was thinking about something you said last time.”
Carter sat down, smirking. “What, when I said:
‘Please, as if you’d be smart enough to cook up some steroid that makes her stronger.’”
He chuckled. “Didn’t think you’d take offense to that. It was just a joke.”
Liam’s expression remained unreadable as he rolled another ball—this time, only knocking down nine pins. “Still took a toll on my pride.”
Carter raised an eyebrow. “I’m supposed to be the prideful one, ya know?” He picked up a ball and casually tossed it at Liam’s remaining pin, knocking it down effortlessly. Then his tone darkened. “Unless I was wrong about my comment.”
Liam exhaled through his nose, picking up another ball. “You really think I cheated you out of your money?”
Carter smirked. “Considering you turned your sister into your personal gambling hack? Yeah. I’d believe it.”
BAM!
A ball whizzed past Carter’s head, slamming into the wall behind him, leaving a dent. Carter barely flinched.
“My bad,” Liam muttered, grabbing his bag. “I saw a fly.”
Carter’s smirk widened. BAM!
Before Liam could react, a ball infused with pride magic came flying at him. He barely had time to raise his forearm in defense. The impact sent a shockwave through his body, forcing his heels to skid back against the floor. He blinked, shaking off the sting, then wiped the dust from his arm.
Carter narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping into a near-whisper. “My bad. I saw a snake.” He snapped his fingers. “Next time, I won’t miss.”
With that, he turned and strode toward the exit, his knights following in silent formation.
Liam exhaled sharply, crushing the bowling ball in his grip. The golden dust crumbled through his fingers as Evalina approached him from behind.
“Do you want to go to war?” she asked.
Liam shook his head. “Not yet. His magic is reliant. I’d be insane to fight him head-on right now.”
Then, suddenly—he collapsed to his knees. Blood dripped down from his temple. His breathing grew shallow.
Evalina’s eyes widened. “Liam—”
“I thought I blocked it…” he coughed, shaking his limbs as if trying to reset his body. His vision blurred for a second before sharpening again.
Carter’s last attack had gotten through.
In the castle of the Pride King, King Carter sat at the head of a grand, candlelit table, his fingers rhythmically tapping against its polished wood. His knights sat around him, watching as he tossed a file onto the table. The folder slid across the smooth surface, stopping in front of them. The name on it read Dragon Case.
“Using the Sky Jousting Tournament, I’ll continue to scout for stronger fighters,” Carter mused, leaning back in his chair. “Liam is obviously cheating, and right now, I can’t find anyone strong enough to rival Elowen Pendragon.”
The knights murmured among themselves, flipping through the pages. One of them whistled. “Are you sure about him, sir?” he asked. “Dragon Case doesn’t have any magic. He’s purely a martial artist. Besides, General Magnus isn’t just going to let us take him.”
Carter smirked. “I know.” With a snap of his fingers, he flicked a golden orb of Pride Magic at the file. The paper shimmered and dissolved, reforming into a new document—Melanthius Shadowbane. The room fell silent. The knights’ eyes widened as they took in the sheer volume of information in front of them.
“Such a huge file…” Carter mused, skimming the contents. “The problem is, if we invite Melanthius, Althara will most likely come with him. And she’ll know it’s a setup.”
He tossed a stack of blank parchment onto the table. “Write down new rules and requirements for this year’s tournament,” he ordered. “If we want to lure them in, we have to make sure they can’t refuse.”
The knights immediately got to work, their pencils scratching against the parchment.
General Requirements:
- Age Restriction: Contestants must be at least 16 years old to compete.
- Entry Fee: A hefty golden sigil (or an equivalent form of rare currency) is required for registration.
- Combat Proficiency: Contestants must prove their combat skills before entry. Those who fail the initial trial will be disqualified.
- Equipment Check: Custom weapons and armor are allowed but must pass an inspection to ensure they meet tournament regulations.
- No Kill Rule: While injuries are common, intentional killing of an opponent results in immediate disqualification and potential legal consequences.
- Magic vs. Non-Magic Clause: While magic users are allowed, special modifications will be made to ensure non-magical contestants have a fair chance.
Match Rules:
- Duel Format: Matches are 1v1 duels held in midair, where contestants must knock their opponent off their hoverboard or mount to win.
- Timed Rounds: Each round lasts five minutes. If no winner is determined, judges will decide based on skill, control, and damage dealt.
- No External Interference: Assistance from outside sources—magical or otherwise—will result in immediate disqualification.
- Ring Out Rule: Contestants who fall off their mount but manage to cling to the arena’s barriers will be given ten seconds to climb back up before being declared the loser.
Special Conditions for This Year’s Tournament:
- Elite Bracket: A special invitation-only bracket will be introduced, allowing only the strongest contenders to compete for the Grand Champion’s Prize.
- Mystery Guest Competitors: Certain contestants may enter under anonymous sponsorships and will not be revealed until match day.
- Finals Location – Unknown: To prevent external threats or interference, the location of the final rounds will not be disclosed until the semifinals conclude.
Total Contestants: 20
- The tournament will feature 20 competitors, selected from various kingdoms and regions.
Entry Requirements:
To be considered, all applicants must submit a video application showcasing the following:
- Magic Proficiency – Demonstrate your magical abilities (if applicable).
- Combat Skills – Show your fighting techniques, whether martial arts, weapon mastery, or other combat forms.
- Hoverboard Control – Exhibit your skill in maneuvering and controlling a hoverboard, as sky jousting requires precision and speed.
Selection Process:
- Kingdom rulers and tournament officials will review all submissions and choose the top 20 competitors based on skill, creativity, and potential.
- Applicants without magic may still be considered if their combat and hoverboard abilities are exceptional.
Carter smirked as he read over the revised rules. “This should be enough to bait them in,” he muttered.