Chapter 108

After an hour of preparation, Legion and Sir Draven now stood face to face in a makeshift arena crafted by Seiryu.

Around them, the atmosphere was tense, and divided.

The commoners loudly cheered for Legion, fully confident that he would win.

Meanwhile, those who had once taken part in the Blood Ritual could barely believe this duel was truly happening. They knew the truth… Sir Draven stood no chance.

"Since this duel is being held for my honor," Ceres said calmly, turning to Duke Aurelian, "I assume I have the right to set the terms?"

"You do," Aurelian confirmed with a nod.

Ceres rose to her feet and addressed the combatants directly.

"Then here are my conditions," she announced. "First, once the duel ends, the loser will accept the outcome wholeheartedly, and the winner shall not boast or speak of the victory to anyone.

Second, the duel will end when either combatant yields or is rendered unconscious.

And third, " she turned to Seiryu, "restrain their skills and abilities."

Gasps broke out across the crowd. A wave of disbelief swept through the arena.

Even Legion and Sir Draven hadn't fully registered the implications when Ceres simply said "Begin."

In that moment, both men felt it, a sudden, invisible pressure wrapped around them.

Their connection to their skills and their abilities is severed. 

"Your Highness," Sir Cecilion suddenly called from the spectators' area as Ceres returned to her plush sofa. "This is… unfair."

Cecilion, along with nearly all the commoners, looked visibly worried for Legion.

Ceres didn't even flinch.

"Life is unfair to everyone, Sir Cecilion. That's exactly what makes it fair," she replied coolly.

And just like that, the advantage the commoners had placed all their hopes on, Legion's Celestial Abilities, was gone.

The match began.

In the middle of the wide, stone-floored arena, Sir Draven lunged first.

Without skills, they were reduced to raw, physical combat.

And Draven's years of battlefield experience showed.

He moved with fluid precision, his fists fast and brutal, his kicks landing with devastating power. Legion did his best to block and retaliate, but he was clearly struggling, his defenses were slow, and his strikes lacked weight.

Within minutes, bruises began to form on Legion's body. Blood trickled from a split lip, then a cut near his brow. Still, he refused to fall.

But Draven never gave him an opening.

The match dragged on.

Thirty minutes later, Legion's legs buckled beneath him. His body was battered, bloodied, and barely upright.

Sir Draven stood across the arena, barely winded, sweat on his brow but nothing more.

"Surrender, Celestial Knight," he said. "You've proven your resolve. There's no shame in yielding."

But Legion shook his head, jaw clenched tight.

"No."

He turned to look at Ceres, his Empress, blood trickling down his temple.

She met his gaze and simply raised a brow.

Legion gritted his teeth. He forced himself to push up from the ground.

His muscles ached, and his limbs trembled.

But he could not, would not, lose.

Not when he was fighting in her name.

Around the arena, the crowd grew quieter. Even those who had originally supported Sir Draven, the noble knights, holy orders, and mages, now watched with growing discomfort.

Because now, they saw the truth.

This duel was no longer about winning.

It was about honor.

And even worse, if Legion lost… it would reflect poorly on the Empress.

If this duel had happened before they met Ceres, none of them would have cared.

But now?

Now it mattered.

Despite her initial fury at their betrayal of the commoners, Ceres had never abandoned them.

She had treated them with respect.

She shared her blessed food with them.

She told the Holy Beast to give them warmth, through enchanted tents, carriages, and protection.

If she were any other noble, especially one who had just gained a Holy Beast, they would be dead by now.

And because of her mercy… even the commoners who once despised them began treating them with civility.

"You can do it, big brother Legion!" cried a child's voice from the crowd.

It was Pipin.

Others joined in, Merry, Maureen, Kidd, voices high and bright, echoing across the arena.

"You can do it!"

"Get up, big brother!"

Despite the swelling pain in his chest, Legion pushed his palms against the floor.

Trembling, he lifted himself up.

His legs wobbled. His vision blurred.

He swung, one more punch, but Draven blocked it easily and pushed him back.

Legion stumbled. He could no longer see clearly.

But he refused to fall.

Sir Draven, too, felt conflicted.

Every strike he made added more guilt than pride.

Part of him wanted to surrender.

Let the Celestial Knight win.

But that… would be worse.

It would dishonor the duel.

It would dishonor the Empress.

And more than anything, it would dishonor the Celestial Knight, who even now refused to fall. 

Sir Draven remained still, waiting.

Legion didn't fall immediately, but everyone watching could see, he wouldn't last much longer.

With heavy eyes and a trembling body, Legion launched himself into one final attempt to strike. But Sir Draven, reluctant and pained, countered with a powerful kick. He knew it would be the final blow, one Legion couldn't possibly withstand.

Legion fell to his knees, then collapsed completely, unconscious.

Sir Draven had won.

And yet, the entire field was shrouded in silence.

No cheers.

No applause.

Not even pride in victory.

Sir Draven stood motionless, regret lining his face. He had done what honor required, but it didn't feel like a triumph.

Ceres looked toward Delphine, who had been anxiously watching the match from the edge of the arena.

"You should go ahead and heal him," Ceres said, her voice soft but commanding.

Delphine blinked, startled, before nodding and running toward her brother. She knelt beside Legion and pressed her glowing palms against him, weaving light through his bloodied wounds. Slowly, his injuries vanished, and his eyes fluttered open. 

Without needing to be told, Delphine stood and walked over to Sir Draven, quietly healing the few bruises and scrapes he had sustained. The act, unprompted, earned a few looks of admiration from those watching.

The moment Delphine finished, Ceres turned toward Seiryu.

"Release the restraint," she ordered.

The instant she spoke, a wave of energy passed through the two knights. They both felt it, their skills and abilities returned.

Ceres rose from her seat.

"The match is over," she declared. "Sir Draven has won."

Legion immediately pushed himself up and stumbled forward until he was kneeling at her feet.

"Your Highness, give me another chance," he said, his voice filled with despair. His eyes were heavy with guilt. "Please."

"No," Ceres replied firmly. "I set my conditions, and you will honor them."

"Your Highness," Sir Draven said, now kneeling beside Legion. His tone carried the weight of guilt and shame. "Please… allow us to duel again. Just once, without restraints. Let us settle this properly."

"I said no," Ceres replied, turning as if to leave.

"I can't accept this win," Sir Draven said quickly. "I disgraced your name with cruel words. If you hadn't restrained us, the Celestial Knight would have won."

"I know," Ceres said, cutting him off.

The crowd stilled.

Ceres turned back toward the two kneeling knights and sighed.

"I know Legion would have won if your abilities hadn't been sealed. But tell me, Sir Draven, do you think I'd be satisfied with a victory won only because he had the upper hand in power?"

Sir Draven was silent.

"Legion challenged you with full confidence because he knew his abilities far outmatched yours," Ceres said, her voice calm but sharp. "But if you had the same power as his, if you too had teleportation and marionette… who do you think would have won?"

Sir Draven lowered his gaze. "I… I would have."

"Yes, you would," Ceres said, smiling faintly. "Because you have experience. Years of it. And that matters more. One day, Legion will meet someone stronger than him. Someone with better abilities. And if he doesn't learn now how to lose, he'll never learn how to survive."

She looked at Legion now.

"I appreciate that you were ready to fight for my honor, even to the point of collapse. And I know, Sir Draven, you were even willing to throw the match for the same reason. The moment I read your letter, I understood your regret. That alone was enough for me."

Sir Draven blinked, stunned. He had not expected that level of understanding.

"This was never about punishing you. It was a friendly match," Ceres continued. "And I don't take offense to your past words. They were your opinions, and people are entitled to that. I won't punish anyone simply for speaking their mind."

She paused.

"My worth doesn't hinge on what others think of me. Legion doesn't need to fight my battles. My honor doesn't need defending. I know who I am."

Then her gaze turned serious again.

"But… if it's not too difficult, Sir Draven, I'd like to ask something of you: the next time you speak of someone, anyone, consider your words. Because unlike swords, which leave wounds that heal… words can leave scars that never fade. Not everyone is like me. Some never recover."

The silence that followed was heavy but respectful.

Then Ceres smiled again.

"The match is over. Sir Draven has won. But," she said, looking directly at him, "if your victory feels heavy… then grant me this request."

Sir Draven looked up.

"Legion is a commoner. He has no formal knight training. No mentor. If you're willing, teach him. I would deeply appreciate it."

Draven, stunned, nodded slowly. "It would be my honor."

Ceres looked around the gathered crowd.

"And one more thing," she announced. "Once we return to the capital and resolve the matters in Aquilonis, I will create a new Knight Order. One that anyone, noble or commoner, can join."

Gasps echoed around the field.

For many commoners, knighthood was a distant dream, unattainable. And now the Empress was offering it to them.

"But know this," she continued. "I will not judge you by your name, your bloodline, your skills, or your magical ability. I will judge your raw strength, your discipline, and your will. And if you wish to join my Order… then remember what you saw today. This is the kind of challenge you must endure."

She turned with a final smile and walked back toward her carriage, Delphine and Arwen following close behind.

And once again, as they watched the Empress's retreating form, 

Their hearts stirred with admiration.

But among them stood Duke Aurelian, his thoughts conflicted. Now that the harsh winter had ended, he knew the nobles back in the capital would start pushing him, demanding that he take the throne. That he finally become Emperor.

And to do that…

He would have to marry.

And marrying another woman would mean the end of Ceres as Empress.

And Aurelian wasn't sure…

If he was ready to lose her.