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Athena Vanzano had developed greatly in the events leading up to the Caeruleum Martial Tournament.

Utilizing the Frost Stone, the girl had her Yin Body potential unlocked, classing her from a Bronze-Rank low-tier Warrior to a high-tier Frostblade.

Then, training in the Icingdeath Mountains and cultivating under the guidance of Shao Ran solidified her ability to sustain her spellcraft. Versed in both her martial abilities and her spellcasting, she trained until she was able to use mana to empower herself in combat. With proper focus, Athena could moderately increase the weight of her attacks and greatly increase her agility.

With the young lady\'s talents, she could easily fight opponents more skilled and at a higher rank. When she finally experienced a breakthrough to Iron-Rank, she might even be able to fight against the heavens and the hells.

Athena did end up revealing her frost powers in the championship match. Her child-opponents sought to defeat her early on... but their attacks fell uselessly against a reflexively cast ⌈Ice Barrier⌋.

With Athena on the defensive, Parthenope was able to take advantage of the melee. The twin-tailed girl relied on fundamental archery, loading and shooting without unnecessary flourish, easily securing their victory.

It might have been considered... boring, but their results were undeniably effective.

He visited Athena in the gladiator pits, afterward. Thankfully, she had only incurred small injuries in her final match, made trivial by the expertise of Caeruleum\'s First-Circle healers.

The young noble apologized for revealing her frost magic in her match... a notion that was ridiculous.

Tycon had harshly trained Athena\'s danger senses until her ⌈Ice Barrier⌋ activation had become instinctual. If anything, the reason Tycon requested she use her powers sparingly was so she would not fatigue herself by summoning a dozen ⌈Frost Blades⌋ each match.

Anyroad, it was Athena\'s training and diligence that won her and Parthenope the junior championship. They had performed the best they could and were rewarded with victory for their efforts.

However, the two of them sped off soon afterward. They wanted to see the end of the horse competition... After lunch, they\'d return to the coliseum in time for Tanamar\'s and Zenon\'s matches.

Tycon stayed with Sorina to ensure the money-making Calculator was safe from being kidnapped for ransom. As much as he also wanted a proper lunch, the safety of his money... err, no... the safety of his guild members was imperative.

...

​ Centurion Zenon Skyreaper liked the Guild Letalis leather armor he wore. He designed it himself, after all... Not the crest on the shoulderguard, though-- Maeva did that. But still, everything else was perfect. Just like the metal version, it had spikes on it, and was dark, and imposing.

Zenon looked undeniably awesome.

The next opponents they faced were a male and female pair from an Iron-Rank guild, both wielding lengthy warbows, taller than they were. Even though the arrows were blunted, getting hit would leave a bruise even through their defensive leathers.

Crossing his arms to look as imposing as possible, he smirked at his duo partner through his half-helmet, Tanamar, "What do you think, man? We should be able to beat them in a ranged match-up?"

Tanamar shrugged, "We\'ll see."

Zenon crinkled his mustache. There was one thing about working with Tanamar as opposed to his Optio. There wasn\'t as much thinking involved... not that that was a bad thing.

When the gong rang, Tanamar rushed out towards the center of the arena, immediately firing his divine arrows at the two archers.

Zenon\'s ⌈Wind Sphere⌋ spell was easy to dodge from a distance, so he held back, ready to cast a ⌈Wind Barrier⌋ on his duo if necessary.

But... the two archers were rushing forward, heedless of the danger.

"What... are they doing?" Zenon furrowed his brows.

Tanamar didn\'t respond, instead forming a lance out of mana and rushing forward to meet their opponents in close combat.

...

Tycon watched from the stands, seated quietly even as the crowd around him stood up to shout their various cheers and obscenities. He felt like some of them shouted just to... shout.

Athanasius Mors, the twin brother of Gladiator Orcus, was favored to win... especially after word had got around that Athena Vanzano and her duo had swept the junior championships with ease.

The Holy Lancer entered close combat with one of his archer opponents... which was a reasonable tactic. However, the Eastern States archer hooked Tanamar\'s leg with the end of his longbow... then with a flourish and spin, dropped him to the sands.

Grounded, Tanamar was hard-pressed to dodge the subsequent arrow shots, rolling around in the blood-curdled mud like a worm.

"Trip \'em baaaack!!" Sorina yelled, "TRIP \'EM BAAAAACK!!"

Tycon could hear the desperation in her voice. He surmised it likely that the Calculator had a substantial amount of coin riding on the duo\'s win.

He shook his head, "Ridiculous. Neither Zenon nor Tanamar have trained for such tactics. To suggest such a thing is--"

Tycon felt his eye twitch as he continued to watch.

Parthenope crossed her arms, mirroring Tycon\'s posture, "OooOh. Athanasius tripped him back."

"That\'s a good thing, right? Sir Tycon?" Athena prodded, "My Tanamar\'s doing really well, right?"

"I think... that should be okay," Victorius offered quietly.

Tycon stood up, abruptly, "I\'m going to purchase an ale. Maybe two. Would anyone like anything while I visit the food stalls?"

"Oh, get me an ale too, Sir Tycon," The useless blonde footman asked.

"One of the stands has grilled chicken hearts on a skewer!" The slightly less-useless twin-braided girl with good taste in food requested. "They\'re great! --But they might be sold out by now."

"Um. Aren\'t you going to watch the rest of the fight?" Athena asked.

"No," Tycon glared.

"Oh... uh... Get me some sweetbread, if it\'s okay with you, Sir Tycon."

Some ales, skewers, and sweetbread. Tycon departed to complete his latest mission.

...

Three ales later, Tycon was better prepared to watch the remainder of the matches.

Tanamar and Zenon had won against the archers.

Of course, they did.

Tycon wanted to strangle both of them for their unnecessary and ostentatious show... but they won. On the battlefield, attaining victory was more important than the methods.

...He would devise a training regimen to address their shameful display... but that would come later.

The Letalis duo then faced an... all Popoto team. They won easily... at the cost of appearing they were bullying children.

"Yasss!!" Popoto Potata Pota shouted, "Die, trash!!"

As much as the young Potata had insisted she did not enjoy the violence, she... was rather exuberant, seeing her allies win. Tycon decided not to question it.

...He made a mental note of it, though. It wasn\'t impossible for him to cultivate her bloodlust towards developing combat skills.

Korr held a stern expression throughout the matches. Tycon assumed she wanted to fight. Was she eligible for the tournament? He wanted to ask the veteran mercenary about her age... but he judged the risk of injury or death not to be worthwhile.

"I want... steak for dinner," She whispered.

...Or she was preoccupied because she was hungry.

For Tanamar and Zenon\'s third match, the opposing team forfeited. That duo was reported to have incurred harsh injuries in their prior match. Otherwise, it might have been due to fear or a healthy respect for Tanamar\'s and Zenon\'s painful arrows and wind blasts. Whatever reason behind it, Letalis was better off for it.

As the matches were determined earlier by random lottery, Guild Letalis had beaten three of four teams, with the final bout to determine the tournament champions. The defeated would have more matches afterward, scrambling for second and third place.

Interestingly enough, the entire coliseum was in an uproar... as the remaining team hailed from the Free Nation.

Nationalism was a strange concept.

It is a mostly human trait to be so insistent upon claiming ownership to a group. A family makes sense, caring for the children and the elderly. A close-knit group of families, a village, or town... those made sense. A guild or adventuring company... an army, even-- they banded together for common cause, which fit the family model just as well.

A nation was different. One couldn\'t choose where they were born. There was no... virtue, human or not, from being born in the Holy Country of Tyrion or in the Free Nation of Brel.

Even still, the surrounding crowd of Tyrion men and women shouted with pride for every victorious motion made by the Tyrion Guild Letalis. Conversely, they booed and jeered the archer team from the Eastern States.

Humans would take pride in the things they associated with. That much was given.

Ultimately, though, Tycon was unsure of how he felt about the current circumstances. Based on his ancestry and fragmentary memories, he, himself, was Tyrion. Further, he was currently acting as a Tyrion Decanus... and had been amongst Tyrions for well over a year.

Still, he was technically a Prince of the Free Nation. He couldn\'t feel completely comfortable about the crowd\'s negative disposition towards those who were theoretically his kinsmen.

Due to the rising raucousness, it was announced that the presiding officials would speak to address it.