Chapter 182: Meeting the Girls
The system reset once more, the coliseum reconstructing itself with its usual flair. But this time, it wasn’t Nero stepping in. Adam cracked his knuckles, flexing his broad shoulders, his avatar wielding that massive earth-forged hammer.
Blake sat up, his sulk vanishing the instant his eyes locked onto Adam. His grin stretched ear to ear. "Finally. My redemption arc."
Adam raised a brow, planting the giant hammer onto his shoulder like a titan preparing for war. "Redemption? No, Blake. This is your execution."
Nero folded his arms, already smiling faintly.
"This is going to be ridiculous, isn’t it?"
Lux leaned back with a laugh. "Oh, absolutely. They’ll turn this into a circus."
The countdown began.
3... 2... 1... START!
The coliseum roared to life once more.
Blake wasted no time, summoning a literal legion of skeletal warriors. This time, he added dramatic flair, pointing his staff skyward as shadows writhed around him.
"Come forth, my army of eternal despair!"
Dozens of skeletons clawed their way out of the ground, rattling their bones and raising rusted weapons.
Adam stared for a long moment, unimpressed. Then he simply slammed his hammer into the dirt. "Earthquake."
The ground shattered. Skeletons flew in every direction like bowling pins, some literally shattering midair into pieces.
"MY ARMY!" Blake howled, clutching his chest. "They weren’t even paid yet!"
Lux nearly spat out his drink. Nero shook his head, suppressing a smirk.
"Enough games!" Blake yelled, darkness swirling around him. "Behold my final form—"
"Shut up." Adam interrupted flatly, launching himself forward. His hammer blazed with earth mana, looking more like a mountain than a weapon.
Blake barely had time to throw up a shield of writhing shadows before the hammer slammed down. The coliseum floor cracked like glass, the shockwave sending both of them flying.
But somehow, somehow—Blake survived. His avatar skidded across the arena, coughing. "Heh... is that all you’ve got? You’ll have to do better than—"
"Boulder Toss." Adam’s voice was calm, almost bored.
A rock the size of a carriage materialized and hurled itself across the field, nailing Blake square in the face.
The crowd erupted in laughter as Blake’s avatar bounced twice before collapsing, twitching.
[Player 3, Adam: WINNER.]
Lux was doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing too hard. "HAAA! Blake, you looked like a pancake!"
Nero’s shoulders trembled from holding back his chuckles. Even he couldn’t hide his amusement.
But Blake... oh, Blake was not done. He respawned instantly, leaping to his feet with fire in his eyes. "Rematch! That was a warm-up!"
Adam cracked his neck, smirking. "Fine. I’ll bury you deeper this time."
3... 2... 1... START!
The moment the match began, Blake actually tried a new tactic—no skeletons, no flashy speeches. He crouched low, shadows coating his body like armor, his staff glowing with condensed power.
Adam’s brows rose. "Oh? Taking it seriously now?"
Blake grinned. "I learn from my mistakes too, you know. Shadow Blink!"
He vanished, reappearing behind Adam instantly. His staff swung down, bursting with raw dark energy.
CRACK!
Adam stumbled, his health bar chunking down by a quarter.
Lux sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. "Oh? Now this is interesting."
Nero’s smirk deepened. "...He’s adapting. Like me."
Blake didn’t give Adam time to breathe. He teleported again and again, striking from different angles, each blow chipping away at Adam’s health bar.
Finally, Blake raised both hands, shadows writhing violently. "This is the end! Abyssal Wrath!"
A massive torrent of darkness engulfed the arena, swallowing Adam whole. The screen nearly blacked out from the sheer effect.
When the smoke cleared, Adam was on one knee, health bar barely hanging on. Blake panted, triumphant. "Heh... now who’s the pancake?"
Adam wiped his mouth, his smirk unbroken. "...Not bad."
Blake froze.
"Not bad at all," Adam continued, slamming his hammer into the ground. "But you forgot one thing..."
The floor cracked. The air shook. From the shattered earth, massive stone spikes erupted in every direction, shredding through the shadows like paper.
Blake screamed as his health bar plummeted to zero in seconds. His avatar was launched skyward, spiraling until it exploded in a ridiculous puff of dark smoke.
[Player 3, Adam: WINNER.]
Silence.
Then Lux collapsed onto the couch, laughing so hard his eyes watered. "Blake... Blake... You fought so hard, only to get impaled like a kebab!"
Nero exhaled softly, but the corner of his lips betrayed a smirk. "...At least he tried."
Blake’s voice echoed from the headset, utterly broken. "This world is cruel. Crueler than real life training."
Adam raised his hammer one last time, smirking. "And yet... you walked right into it."
Lux wiped his tears, raising his glass.
"Gentlemen, I declare Adam the king of this coliseum. Blake, better luck in the next life."
"Shut. Up." Blake groaned, burying his face in his hands.
Nero leaned back, expression calm as ever.
"Guess you’ll have to adapt faster next time."
And just like that, the room filled with laughter again—Blake’s misery fueling everyone else’s joy.
The hours passed in a haze of laughter, cards, and the steady burn of alcohol. The round oak table at the center of Lux’s lounge was littered with half-empty glasses, a deck of enchanted cards glowing faintly in the dim light, and scattered chips they used as wagers. Every now and then the boys’ laughter echoed across the villa, loud enough to make even the maids smile faintly as they went about their duties.
Blake, however, was the most miserable of the four. Forced to stay, slumped in his chair with his purple hair in disarray, he looked like a prisoner shackled to a fate worse than training. Each time he lost a round, Lux or Adam shoved another glass his way, grinning mercilessly. Nero, though quieter than the others, seemed to enjoy watching him squirm, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement.
"Drink," Lux would say smoothly.
"Again?!" Blake protested, only to be met with three unwavering stares. Groaning dramatically, he downed the amber liquid, slamming the glass onto the table as though he were a condemned man at the gallows.
"You’ll thank us for this," Adam said smugly, shuffling the cards with practiced hands.
The game carried on until the warm sunlight slanting through the tall glass windows began to fade into softer tones. By the time the clock struck five, their laughter had grown lazy, mellowed by alcohol, and the world outside the villa seemed painted in the hues of an approaching evening.
It was then that the sound of tires crunching against gravel reached them. A sleek black sedan rolled up the driveway, polished to a mirror shine, its presence an elegant contrast against the rustic greenery of the villa’s outskirts. The boys, already having changed into more refined clothes—Lux in his immaculate white shirt, Adam in a fitted dark vest, Nero in a crisp black ensemble, and Blake reluctantly in neat casuals—stepped outside to welcome their guests.
The car door opened with a smooth click, and out stepped three figures.
First was Elreth, the princess herself, radiant as ever with her crimson hair catching the fading sunlight, her confident stride naturally commanding attention. Beside her was Azalea, golden hair cascading over her elven attire, beauty tempered with a prideful elegance that seemed as sharp as her arrows. The last to emerge was Khione, the Ice Queen, her long white hair tied loosely behind her, her gaze calm, unreadable, yet carrying the faintest flicker of something warmer as her eyes settled briefly on Nero.
"Lux," Elreth said warmly, her lips curving into a smile as she approached.
"Elreth," Lux returned the greeting with equal warmth, clasping her hand lightly before exchanging a few words with Azalea as well.
The princess then turned her attention to Nero. "Nero," she greeted with a nod.
"Princess," Nero replied calmly, his tone respectful but steady. Then, without hesitation, his ominous red eyes shifted to Khione, and he lifted a hand in a small, casual wave.
Khione, usually expressionless, nodded ever so slightly in return. From the corner of her eyes, a flicker of softness lingered—enough for Elreth to notice.
Her brows furrowed faintly, her smile never faltering, but inside her thoughts darkened.
Since when did those two become so close?
She would not—could not—allow Khione to snatch away the boy she had already marked for herself. The one she intended to make her subordinate. Between the two women, an invisible spark ignited, sharp as lightning and just as dangerous.
Meanwhile, Blake yawned loudly, stretching his arms with exaggerated disinterest. "So much effort for a meet-and-greet," he muttered under his breath.
Adam’s brown eyes, however, locked immediately with Azalea’s. The moment they made contact, both of them harrumphed simultaneously and turned their faces away, as if even breathing the same air was intolerable. The air between them chilled and sparked with old grudges, their disdain almost comical to the others who were well-accustomed to their antics.
Lux, used to the constant undercurrents of rivalry and silent warfare within the group, simply smiled and gestured toward the villa’s entrance. "Come inside," he said smoothly, his voice carrying the ease of a natural host.
"The evening is young, and there’s plenty to enjoy."
The girls followed, their steps echoing softly against the polished stone floor as the group crossed the threshold. Yet even as they entered, the tension remained, invisible threads pulling in every direction—rivalries old and new, ambitions unspoken, and sparks that promised the night ahead would be anything but simple.