Bermuda

Hugo's eyebrows tightened, which had been motionless the whole time. The temporalis from his straight forehead to his temple rose faintly, then settled.

He could not take his eyes off the matron's profile for a long while. Sensing that persistent gaze, Gladia Agrizendro slowly turned her head and met Hugo's stare.

Amid the noisy arena, a suffocating silence flowed between the two of them.

The woman with the graceful, dignified bearing and cold gaze always gave off an intimidating pressure as if you were looking up at her even when standing on the same level. Today, as if it were only natural, Hugo tried to decide how he should respond to the matron informing him of the grave matter placed before her.

Do you still see me as that obedient child who only waits for your orders? He chose and re-chose the words that hovered on the tip of his tongue.

He did not know whether the final sentence he completed was as noble as she had described.

“I will pretend I did not hear it.”

Receiving that retort with the same tone of being told off, he turned his gaze forward. Gladia Agrizendro, who had been watching his sharp profile, displayed her displeasure without filtering it.

“How long do you intend to keep avoiding it? Have you forgotten the duties of a duke?”

Hugo eased the tight line of his mouth without a sound. He barely restrained a scoffing laugh.

“I have not forgotten. I have told you repeatedly that the timing is not right because there are graver matters.”

“The marriage proposals lie at your feet like trampled things, yet the lady of the house seat has been vacant for over a decade. Do you truly not know what people are saying about that?”

“I did not think you would care about gossip.”

Their exchanged lines were followed by eyes meeting again across the air. The looks that could outdo the second in acuity were today razor-sharp enough to cut.

“You must pay attention. Decide what should be prioritized.”

A sudden stiffness tightened the delicate column of Gladia's neck, and a hollow formed above her clavicle.

At that moment Hugo's heart grew heavy again, fearing he might strain her body and mind. He felt weak with himself. He let out a small sigh and was about to concede when she leaned in.

“When I was the duke's age, I had five children. Times have changed, so I do not expect that. But did you not promise me?”

“What promise are you referring to?”

“You said you would not take actions that would harm the family. If you unilaterally dismiss an arranged match after negotiations have already proceeded, it would be no small slight and humiliation to both households. Shouldn't you at least show minimal courtesy? Did I order you to hold a banquet immediately?”

Gladia always acted like this. She artfully shaped circumstances so that, in the name of principle and legitimacy, the other party could not refuse—then guided their will. Decisions that seemed forced down the throat looked as if they had been freely chosen.

“Handle it wisely. If you truly are the head of the Agrizendro house.”

It was a sentence that choked off any easy reply—a tightening more severe than any magic-charged utterance.

But Hugo, without time to recall reasons, naturally thought of one person's face. Following that flashed the last vow he had made before parting with him.

I will become stronger—strong enough to protect you.

He quietly asked himself whether his present self matched that vow.

Well, was he really so different now than then?

Yet, absurdly, the voice that followed sounded more noble than at any time.

“I will make proper arrangements on my side regarding what has transpired. However, I will not allow one-sided arranged marriages like this from now on. It is neither proper between the parties nor courteous to the person who lingered in my heart.”

Contrasted with his calm tone, the arena's atmosphere gradually rose. The space around the two felt like another world. The heat and cheers racing toward the end of the opening ceremony made the mind and ears ring.

Because of that, Gladia did not immediately grasp Hugo's meaning. He had spent his life quietly following the path and principles laid out for him. He rarely spoke of likes or dislikes.

So his expression of something as exalted as "heart" struck her like the previous shock when he had once defied the matron of his own volition.

“Who is he? That man.”

Gladia's composed question made her mouth twitch in small spasms.

Hugo merely offered a faint smile. He gave no answer. His action looked as if he was protecting someone who might not even exist.

He only glanced at his wristwatch. Darkness had already fallen over the transparent roof, and the person in charge of the opening ceremony approached them cautiously. He informed Hugo that he would need to move to the podium for the closing remarks of the performance in about ten minutes.

With appropriate justification to leave, Hugo nodded willingly and then motioned the knights lined behind him to come closer.

“See that you escort the councilman well.”

“Yes, understood.”

Their precise movements and voices matched the layered pitches and leaping rhythm the string instruments had been building. The melody heading toward its climax converged. Among them, the most soul-stirring was the aria of the pipe organ, the king of instruments.

The extreme resonance produced by tens of thousands of pipes surged like a torrent and dominated the wide space beneath the dome. Hugo looked down at Gladia wearing a gentle smile. Golden lighting reflected around him, making the world glitter. The deep, solemn tone enhanced the grandeur of his presence like an ornate decoration.

Hugo signaled to Flinn, who had been hovering nearby, smoothed his attire, and then bowed to properly fasten the fur cape draped over Gladia's shoulders.

“I'll be right back. We'll discuss this matter later.”

The matron's cold gaze did not leave him, but she offered no retort. After Hugo withdrew his hand, he gave a slight nod.

KWA—AANG!

A flash of light erupted from one corner of the arena like lightning striking.

The explosive sound, incongruous with the uplifted mood, cut across the hall. The crowd lost in the music flinched as one; it was a magnificent dissonance.

A numbing shockwave slammed through the stadium, echoing like gunshots.

The raucous stands fell into a stunned silence as if time had stopped for an instant. Then, after about one or two seconds, confused gasps and murmurs broke out. Screams of terror rose in places.

Anxiety spread quickly on the trembling breaths. People were instantly reminded of the explosive incident months ago that had shaken the public.

“What was that?”

“Could it be a terror attack?”

As the crowd panicked, the VIPs in the guest section were the first to move. They hurried to leave the arena, and the wavering spectators also sprang up. Battalion commanders including Andreas exchanged glances as they quickly rose to assess the situation.

Instinctively drawing Gladia's head into his arm to shield her, Hugo stared at the source of the blast with a face set in taut concentration. Smoke was curling up from one corner where the light had flashed. But the knights of the household rushed forward to protect their lord, and his view was soon obscured.

Still, Hugo could not take his eyes off a single place. The shouts in his ears sounded muffled, as if underwater.

“Master, you should move to safety first.”

“There is a risk of chain explosions! Please evacuate—”

For a moment, a magic so deeply engraved like a bone-cutting mark trembled along his skin and spine. Even from so far away, he recognized it instantly. Hugo murmured in a sigh.

“...Leonardo Blaine.”

Gladia raised her eyelids and watched Hugo's face upon hearing the name.

Amid the thick human barrier that formed around the head table, that man's pained expression and voice were incongruously clear. It was that vivid.

Coming to his senses late, Hugo checked Gladia's complexion, and whatever earlier expression he had shown vanished cleanly. Before she could speak, Hugo gave Flinn, who had approached, a hurried order.

“Flinn, escort the councilman back to the manor. Take the widest, safest route. The rest of you follow me; we'll determine the cause of the explosion and handle the situation.”

“Yes, understood—!”

Hugo led the knights and hurried toward the opposite side of the ground. The council battle captains followed him.

Gladia rose with Flinn and the knights supporting her, yet she could not take her eyes off Hugo's retreating back.

Meanwhile, the explosion had occurred in a multipurpose hall on the east side of the main stadium's first floor—the final goal point of the F-group test. What had poured out from the unstable, open F-group portal were entrants tangled limb-to-limb and an enormous force that swept the surroundings.

Since intense scuffles typically occur just before portal passage, the goal area had been equipped with soft mats and temporary containment stones and various safety devices. But the energy this portal carried overwhelmed those measures. Its force was so severe that the shockwave that penetrated the hall's walls extended to the main stadium's ground.

Fortunately, the ground's perimeter was filled with water, so there were no casualties. The water helped dampen some of the impact, and the destruction was limited to the side.

Staring at the unbelievable sight, the council staff blinkingly stared at one collapsed wall. A dizzying large-scale accident on the League's opening day—no, on the day of the opening ceremony—made cold sweat run down their spines. They had rushed to the scene on orders from management, but their minds were not yet clear.

Those who had passed earlier and were waiting in the hall also covered their mouths in disbelief.

In the meantime, one of the participants who had been lying at the base of the breached wall stirred. The person who twitched a shoulder and slowly raised their head was Leonardo Blaine.

Though his clothes were filthy, he had clung desperately to his mask. Feeling around his face, he gripped the ringing goal post and frowned. The blast's aftereffects made his ears ring, and he staggered as he shook his head and rose.

White-uniformed staff and the white walls and pillars came into his blurred view. For some reason, pieces of torn carpet lay about. Seeing a scene similar to a few hours earlier, Leonardo realized he had actually made it through the portal.

Ah — I made it through. Even though he was still dizzy, a smile of victory leaked out.

Clenching his fist with one hand, he cheerfully murmured, “yes—.”

Where's Ero?

Even in his hazy state he found himself thinking of the boy whom he had grown somewhat attached to. He had tucked him tightly at his side—he worried he might have dropped him on the way. Fortunately, before his worry deepened, Ero appeared on his own feet in front of Leonardo.

“Brother.”

The boy, who ought to have been bawling with tears of emotion, was surprisingly composed. He, too, looked ragged but appeared uninjured.

“Ero.”

Leonardo, puzzled by his reaction, grinned first and gave his shoulder a playful knock with his fist.

“See? I told you I'd get you through. Serve me as your brother for life.”

“Brother, well—”

Ero, bedraggled like a wet rat, hesitated and pointed with a finger behind Leonardo.

“You should take a look back there for a moment...”

At his cryptic reply, Leonardo tilted his head. He turned around without much concern.

A sudden flood of spotlight beams dazzled him and contorted his expression. He raised an arm to shield his blazing vision, but it did not take long to make out the scene.

“...huh?”

The immense interior arena and stands loomed overwhelmingly as if to swallow him. It was the same view he had seen once before when moving for pre-match registration, but the air felt completely different.

The pressure in his ears cleared in ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) an instant; the ringing abated and equilibrium returned.

The sound of tens of thousands of spectators filled the grand arena and struck him as though to reverberate through his whole body. Whether it was cheers or jeers could not be told.

One thing was certain: the entire hall was heaving like a wave, all eyes turned upon him.