Mercenary God: Reborn with a talent for fighting.-Chapter 38: Ch Alex vs Selena.

The Bladeheart Coliseum

A dreadful silence breezed through the coliseum.

Citizens gathered from all over the Evernight Plains and even those farther away wavered with anticipation at what the upcoming fight would entail.

Alex Bladeheart, the black sheep of the Bladeheart family and the son of the now deceased Patriarch, and then Selena Bladeheart, the third anomaly of the Bladeheart family, rivaling the previous Patriarch in talent and potential.

This was basically the tale of an underdog and the gifted.

A tale as old as time, one might say.

So the question was who would win.

Taking their stats at surface value, it showed without a doubt Selena was superior.

For starters, she had recently broken through the C-rank stage while Alex was at the mid-range stage of E-rank.

The gap in their stages meant Selena had him beat in both aura and physical capabilities.

At least that was until one factored in Alex’s unique skill.

From what most had heard, it was an amplifier-type of ability.

And back when he was a mere F-rank, it allowed him to temporarily hold his own against assassins who were at the C-rank stage.

Of course, some believed those were mere rumors the Abel faction spread, but why would they do something that would yield not much of an effect?

Originally, not much had been expected from Alex.

The true deal breakers were Abel, whom pretty much everyone expected would win, and Vanessa.

But due to reasons, she had been suspended and her points given to the Kain faction.

Now everything was up to Alex.

His defeat or victory would usher in a new age for the Bladeheart family.

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In the Elders’ section of the Coliseum, Camilla stood at the window, her gaze drawn to her daughter marching out of the combatant entrance.

"Incredible, isn’t she!"

Taking her side was Holi, a soft smile lingering on his ever-rigid face.

He too observed Selena and the monstrous aura that surged out of her body, crushing the ground with each step she took.

That child was undoubtedly his granddaughter, and yet she felt so different from him.

Camilla, on the other hand, kept her silence.

"Did you talk to her before she set foot on the stage?"

"I didn’t," Camilla responded.

Holi wasn’t surprised.

His daughter Camilla had always been somewhat distant with her own daughter.

He understood why, given that child’s origin, but he knew in the long run it would do more harm than good.

"Camilla, I was there for you through your youth, even after your mother’s death. Why can’t you do the same for that child? Even if she wasn’t conceived by love, can’t you—"

"It’s not that simple, Father." She cut him off, fists clenched and her nails digging into her skin.

Her expression grew tearful and yet no tears were spilled—just pure bitterness.

Holi sighed, choosing not to push the matter any further.

If Camilla wouldn’t own up, he still had dozens of years till he died—that was long enough to take care of his granddaughter.

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"She’s stronger than the last time I saw her."

Abel, standing at a high point within the Coliseum, muttered as Selena took center stage, her longsword strapped to her waist.

Her aura—colorless and without intent—flared violently around her like a cape.

Looking at her now, Abel was reminded of the first time he met his younger cousin.

It had been a few days after Lady Camilla had given birth.

The family had gathered to congratulate her. When the child was being passed around to gather the blessings of the family, it finally came to his turn to hold her.

Right then and there, he realized one thing.

She was the same entity as him.

By "the same," it was quite difficult for him to understand since even he himself didn’t understand what he was.

And yet his eyes saw it—the child lingering with secrets that need not be uncovered.

"I’m not one to believe in gods... but this once, I want to believe one will pave the way for my brother."

Praying so, his gaze wandered to Alex, who was now making his appearance.

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Anxiety—that feeling of dread and uneasiness one felt when about to face an event.

I wasn’t alien to that.

The first time I talked to a girl.

My first day in high school.

My final exams.

These were all instances where I had felt anxiety, and today was no different.

"Is this how footballers feel before every match?"

Making my way through the dimly lit tunnel and approaching the bright-lit exit, I couldn’t help but wonder.

Just like a footballer, I was either going to leave praised or insulted—courtesy of my performance today.

"Heh."

Smiling at that thought, I took my final step, and before I knew it, my scenery warped.

Gone were the dark walls of the tunnel—now they were replaced by an expansive circular field.

Where I stood underneath the gazes of thousands who erupted into cheers at the prologue of this event.

They were cheering for me—no, they were cheering for what my appearance entailed.

A new age for the Bladehearts.

A legend in the making.

Yes, this was what everything was about.

For a moment, I found myself coming to a halt, my gaze sweeping through the crowd in awe.

I felt like the contestant of a tournament drawing to its end.

It was thrilling... it was heart-racing.

Just like my battle with the assassin.

I was scared and yet not overwhelmed.

This feeling was addictive—so much that I couldn’t help but grin.

"Heh!"

Smiling, I moved forward, a pair of golden, cold, and distant eyes meeting my gaze.

The whiplash of her steel longsword and her eye-catching tracksuit left me amused, but I could also tell—whether armored or not—she was taking me seriously this time.

There was no teasing, no sadistic smile, just the sternness of a child born to fight and who wanted nothing but to win.

We shared that trait in common, hence I knew this would be my greatest battle yet.

Standing between us, Lady Camilla wasted no time.

This time, she brought out a golden coin—one which she tossed into the air.

Its fall would signify our start.

We both watched with predator-like eyes, poised as the coin spun in the air continuously, and just as it landed on the ground, we moved.

I was faster, the rope around my right arm unraveled, its end housing a dagger that snapping forward with the readiness of a cobra.