Reborn as the Last van Ambrose-Chapter 91: Max Luminaris vs Grim Van Ambrose Part 1

The arena hummed with anticipation. News of House Draykar’s arrest had spread through the capital like wildfire, thanks in no small part to Lady Mei’s network of informants and messengers. By the time the last semifinal match was about to start, even the commoners in the market squares were whispering about elven spies and Draykar’s deceit.

"I heard Lord Draykar was caught with elven markings on his body," one merchant whispered to another as Grim passed through the competitors’ entrance.

"My cousin’s wife works in the palace kitchens," another replied. "She says they found letters written in elven blood."

The rumors grew more outlandish with each retelling, exactly as Grim had hoped. Lady Mei had performed her role perfectly, seeding just enough truth to make the embellishments believable.

Inside the preparation chamber, Grim sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed in meditation. The match against Talyra had drained him severely, and yesterday’s events had left little time for recovery. He estimated he was operating at barely sixty percent of his full strength.

[Your mana is low,] the voice cautioned. [You should consider yielding if the match turns against you.]

"Not an option," Grim muttered. "I need this victory."

[Pride is a luxury you can’t afford right now.]

"It’s not pride," Grim replied. "It’s necessity. I’ve driven Julius into a corner, I need to make sure he stays there."

The voice went silent, but Grim could sense its disapproval. He knew the risk he was taking. Max would be at full strength, eager to avenge both Aithen’s death and the disgrace of House Draykar. And without his mana being full, Grim wouldn’t be able to sustain for a long time.

Grim’s remembered something Chen Xing had once told him during their years in exile: "A man blinded by rage can’t see the blade that kills him." Max Luminaris had always been proud, quick to anger. It was a weakness Grim intended to exploit.

A tournament official appeared at the door. "Lord Ambrose, it’s time."

Grim rose smoothly, masking any sign of weakness.

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"An interesting semifinal pairing," the Chancellor remarked. "Especially given their history."

Archmage Marcus leaned forward. "I’m more interested in Lord Ambrose’s condition. His match against the elf took a considerable toll on his mana. He hasn’t had sufficient time to recover."

"You seem concerned for him, Archmage," the Empress observed.

A slight smile crossed the old man’s weathered face. "I simply appreciate skill, Your Majesty. And Lord Ambrose has shown remarkable skill with the blade. It would be a shame if the semifinals were decided by exhaustion rather than ability."

"Father," Mira said quietly from beside him, "should we be concerned about Max? Lord Ambrose has proven himself... unpredictable."

"Max is not Talyra," Julius replied. "He knows what to expect. And after what Ambrose has done to our allies, Max will show no mercy." A thin smile curved his lips. "Besides, our young Lord Ambrose is not at his best today. I suspect this match will be shorter than anticipated."

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The crowd roared as Max entered the arena. He acknowledged the cheers, his face composed into a mask of confident determination.

The applause for Grim was more subdued, mixed with murmurs and whispers. His reputation had grown complicated.

The two competitors met in the center, where the official waited to begin the match. Their eyes locked.

He stepped back quickly. For a moment, silence fell over the arena as the two opponents sized each other up.

As the official dropped his hand, the fight began.

Max moved first, his rapier leaving its sheath in a fluid motion as he advanced. "I’ve been looking forward to this, Ambrose," he said, his voice pitched for Grim’s ears alone. "Especially after what you did to House Draykar."

"House Draykar chose its path. As did your family when you profited from my house’s destruction." Grim tilted his head slightly, voice deliberately casual. "Tell me, Max. Does your father still sleep with the lights on? I hear he hasn’t had a peaceful night of sleep since i marked my face." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Fear has a distinct smell. You’re starting to reek of it too."

Max’s face contorted with fury. "You dare...."

Anger flashed in Max’s eyes. His rapier began to glow with golden light as he launched his first attack. "Radiant Dawn: Piercing Light!"

The thrust came with blinding speed, the rapier’s tip extending beyond its physical length in a beam of golden energy. Grim sidestepped, allowing the attack to miss by inches. He countered with a swift horizontal strike.

"Celestial Mist: Cross-Cut!"

A faint blue trail in the air as it swept toward Max’s midsection. He parried it easily, his rapier meeting Grim’s blade in a shower of sparks.

Grim needed to conserve every ounce of strength. His blade felt heavier than normal.

Max pressed his advantage, launching a series of quick thrusts and slashes that forced Grim on the defensive.

The Empress noted. "Lord Luminaris seems aware of his opponent’s condition. His strategy is sound."

"It’s not just strategy," Liona observed. "There’s genuine hatred behind those attacks."

"He can’t keep this up. Not in his condition," Lianna remarked.

Max’s confidence grew with each exchange. His speed of attacks grew faster. "Radiant Dawn: Radiance Slash!"

The arc of golden energy expanded outward in a sweeping crescent. Grim lifted his blade to block, but the force of the impact drove him back several steps.

"Celestial Mist: Cleave!" Grim’s counterattack split the air with a vertical strike that momentarily disrupted Max’s golden aura. The blade descended with enough force to create a visible ripple in the air, causing Max to leap backward.

The crowd gasped at the display of power. For a moment, it seemed Grim had found an opening. A wave of dizziness hit him hard. A momentary weakness that Max noticed.

"You’re not at full strength," Max realized, his eyes narrowing. "The elf drained you more than you’re letting on."

Grim steadied himself, adjusting his grip on his sword, but the damage was done. His moment of weakness had been exposed, and Max’s eyes gleamed with the recognition of advantage.