While Lux was recuperating from his injury, news of his performance spread throughout the other Six Kingdoms like wildfire.
The various Information Guilds, Merchant Guilds, as well as the Underworld Guilds, scrambled to put an identity with the chubby boy's face, who had appeared out of nowhere, and won against one of the Four Kings of the young generation.
The high officials of the Six Kingdoms that backed Barbatos Academy had decided to recruit the young man to their side by giving him the most tempting offer. Naturally, in order to do that, they must first know his background.
This was the first step to understanding who this person was, and what his goals were. As long as they were able to provide those for him, the possibility of gaining a future powerhouse was already in the bag.
The Four Princes, and the Five Overlords had been recognized by everyone as the strongest among the young generations. Anyone who was able to beat any of them would naturally gain popularity because it also meant that the balance that had long been held in place had now been shaken.
The commoners, nobles, high-ranking nobles, as well as the members of the Royal Family no longer looked down on the remaining contestants, who had stepped into the top 32 of the Lionheart Tournament.
If one more rough gem could be unearthed from this group of people, they would certainly profit immensely if they were able to bring them to their Domain and make them one of their loyal subordinates.
Iris wanted to visit Lux so badly, but Vera told her that going there would only raise suspicions. Now that Lux was no longer an ordinary chubby teenager, all of his movements, including those who visited him would be scrutinized by those who were trying to discern his identity.
One wrong move and the Half-Elf's plan would be ruined, so the blue-haired beauty had no choice but to remain in her VIP seat, and watch the next three battles that would also take place in the Main Arena.
Rol, who was devastated by his brother's loss, had gone all out in his match. But, since he wasn't in the right state of mind during his battle, the Boar, who was his opponent, didn't miss the opportunity and won the match by a very small margin.
Amastan, and Fiora, sighed in disappointment at Rol's performance. Both of them knew that if the young Barbarian had calmly dealt with his opponent, the victor of the battle would have been him, instead of the boar who was feeling very smug at the moment.
"Father, you should let Rol take the Trial of the Ancestors when we return home," Fiora said. "He can still participate in the next tournament, so we can just treat this one as a minor setback."
Amastan smiled. As the Barbarian King, he knew that losing wasn't something to be depressed about. As long as you learned from your mistake and strived to be better, a better and improved warrior would be born from the ashes.
Unfortunately, Einar and Rol still didn't know this fact.
The Barbarian King wanted to know just how far his sons' determination was. If they were not able to recover from this setback then it meant that they were never meant to do grander things, which required many hardships, and could only be accomplished through sheer determination.
'Fortunately, they are still young,' Amastan thought. 'There is still plenty of time to correct their mindset. Still, that boy, My Daddy, is quite an interesting fellow.'
When Amastan thought that he was calling a teenage boy his daddy, he forgot what he was thinking about and laughed, which made the young lady beside him think that he was laughing at the failure of her brothers, making her pout.
"Father!"
"Calm down, Fiora. I know. When we return, I'll take good care of your brothers, okay?"
Fiora nodded her head and shifted her attention to the next battle. Now that her brothers were no longer in the tournament, her interest in it had waned greatly. However, the next match rekindled the flames of curiosity in her heart after two fighters, who both specialized in the Wind Element, faced each other in the arena.
"Enlil Neifion, the sixth Elven Prince of the Elswyth Kingdom, as well as one of the young Kings of this generation," Fiora muttered as she gazed at the handsome, green-haired elf who was smiling with great confidence as he waved at the audiences that had come to watch him.
Since her brother, Einar, was of the same ranking as the Elven Prince, there had been plenty of opportunities for her to meet with the Elf, who looked down on the other races, except his own, and with good reason.
Elves were superior when it came to wielding the power of the Elements. They also excelled as Rangers, Magicians, Bards, Beast Tamers, Druids, as well as other professions that had something to do with nature.
They were also long-lived, which allowed them to learn more than the other races, as well as steadily gain strength throughout their long lifespan.
"His opponent is Gerhart Cenele," Fiora stated. "A wandering Half-Elf that cut ties with the Elswyth Kingdom, and has lived among the Nomadic Rowan Tribe that moves along with the seasons. Both of them use the Wind Element. In this battle, the one with the higher Mastery of the Element will win. Isn't that right, Father?"
"Yes." Amastan rubbed his chin with great interest. "But, I believe that the one whose determination is the strongest will win this battle."
"What makes you say that, father?"
"Just a hunch."
Fiora quieted down as she shifted her attention back to the arena where the two fighters were facing each other.
Gerhart had a serious expression on his face, while Enlil had a relaxed smile plastered on his face. Clearly, the Elven Prince didn't take his opponent seriously, even though the two of them were Wind Elementalists.
"Half-Elf, I admire your luck for coming this far, but this is where your luck ends," Enlil stated. "A defective creature like you is a stain in this competition. I will make sure that your journey ends right here, right now."
Gerhart didn't reply and simply removed the cloak that covered his body. Pointy ears that were similar to a Human's framed his face. His green-hair wasn't as green, or as lustrous, as Enlil's, but his eyes, which were as clear as the blue skies, stared at his opponent fearlessly.
The girls looked at the two handsome young men in the arena and giggled, while the boys wished that both fighters would kill each other in the match, so the world will have two less handsome boys that might become their rivals when it came to wooing the women's hearts.
Just before the match was about to begin, Lux appeared on one of the platforms reserved for the contestants of the arena. He had wanted to watch Rol's and the Boars' fight earlier on, but his broken ribs took some time to get patched up.
"Gerhart!" Lux shouted. "Defeat him using the strategy we talked about earlier!"
Gerhart glanced up at the stands and gave Lux a brief nod. However, deep inside, he was saying "What strategy? I didn't talk to you earlier. We're not even friends!"
The smile on Enlil's face disappeared as he gave Lux a side-long glance before shifting his attention back to his opponent.
Although he half doubted the chubby teenager's words, Lux was still someone that managed to defeat his acquaintance, Einar.
This meant that he needed to be careful when fighting against opponents who might have collaborated with each other in order to make a strategy that worked against him.
'I can't lose here,' Enlil vowed in his heart. 'I can't ruin the reputation of the Four Kings, just like that dumb Barbarian did.'
The contestants who were also in the same platform as Lux, looked up at him with admiration. Although they didn't want to admit it, they aspired to be like him and defeat one of the Four Kings and Five Overlords, who had long lorded above their heads for the past few years.
It was at that moment when two people stood on Lux's left and right side.
One of them was a blonde teenager, with blue eyes and sharp features.
The other was a good looking boy, with light-brown hair and eyes.
The one that stood on his left side was Gilmore Faisal, the Third Prince of the Axton Kingdom, and one of the Four Kings.
The one on his right was none other than Nero, who carried a strong grudge against Lux, because he had everything he ever wanted in life.
"Who do you think will win?" Gilmore asked while looking at the two fighters in the arena.
"Do you even need to ask?" Lux answered without even bothering to look at the blonde Prince, who suddenly decided to stand beside him. "The one who will win this tournament is me. All of you can just fight for second place."
The contestants who heard Lux's declaration sucked in deep breaths. Clearly, the question that Gilmore asked was who would win between Gerhart and Enlil. However, the chubby teenager didn't care and simply declared that he will be the one winning the tournament and everyone can just fight for the second spot.
"Interesting," Gilmore stated. "I think the one who will win THIS match is Enlil. After all, ants who think too highly of themselves are easily crushed by someone simply stepping on them."
"You must be talking about common ants," Lux replied. "I know a few ants in Elysium that can easily step on a king and turn him to meat paste. Hah~ ignorance is truly bliss."
Nero, who had kept his silence on the side, suddenly spoke out loud. He felt irritated about the chubby teenager's witty comments, which reminded him of the Half-Elf whom he hated with every fiber of his being.
"You are quite eloquent with your words," Nero commented. "It reminds me of a certain pathetic Half-Elf who got lucky in life."
The ridicule in Nero's tone was quite scathing, but instead of getting annoyed, Lux found his words very funny.
"Well, I don't know who that Half-Elf is, but it's not his fault you got born with a baboon's butt for a face," Lux chuckled. "Better luck in your next lifetime. Make sure to do good deeds so that you will have good karma in life. Maybe, just maybe, you will be reborn and, just like that pathetic Half-Elf, get lucky in your next life."
Gilmore and Nero suddenly had the strong urge to slap the chubby teenager at the same time for turning their words against them.
Both of them were already starting to regret their decision to stand beside the chubby teenager, whose tongue was sharper than both of theirs combined.
