The journey to the capital's center was brief. The cobblestone streets were filled with merchants and passersby; the aroma of freshly baked bread drifted through the air, mixing with the echoes of vendors calling out their wares. Lusian couldn't help but look around with curiosity, like someone discovering a world that had always existed outside the screen of a game.
When the carriage stopped, Lusian stepped down first and offered his hand to Emily. Instantly, all eyes in the square turned toward them. Between the knights, maids, and escort, it looked more like a procession than a simple couple taking a walk.
Emily looked nervous; Lusian, uncomfortable.
—This draws too much attention —he murmured.
She smiled, trying to hide her unease.
— I suppose everyone wants to see the newly engaged couple.
To escape the stares, Lusian decided to enter the first shop he saw: a magic item store.
The interior was fascinating. Crystal shelves displayed artifacts glowing with mana-tinted light: rings, bracelets, floating spheres, and delicately enchanted weapons. It felt like stepping into a fantasy laboratory. Lusian felt his heart beat faster. He had played worlds like this before, but he had never been inside one. For the first time, he understood the scale of everyday magic: lamps that lit themselves, brushes that cleaned dust as they passed, mirrors that adjusted their reflection depending on the time of day.
The shopkeeper, a young woman with chestnut hair and kind eyes, answered all his questions patiently while Lusian listened in awe. There was a necklace that allowed the wearer to float a few meters above the ground, a wand with a level-six fire spell that could only be used once, and a small windmill that generated real magical airflow. He even saw an earring that amplified the voice like a resonance spell. The shop felt like a place where time didn't exist.
But when Lusian tried to take out money, he realized he had none on him. Before he could react, one of the manor's maids stepped forward, paid for the items, and stored them away discreetly. Lusian sighed, surprised. So this was what it meant to be a noble: protected… and dependent.
As they left, Emily glanced at him.
—You look like a child in a candy store.
Lusian gave a faint smile.
—It's the first time I've seen this world's magic up close. In my home… there aren't many things like this.
—The Douglas mansion doesn't need decoration —Emily replied, with a hint of shyness Lusian couldn't ignore.
They continued walking until they reached a jewelry store, its display windows shining with enchanted gemstones and finely engraved rings. Lusian stopped, studying the pieces with a mix of curiosity and confusion. He had no intention of entering, but the duchy maid leaned in gracefully.
—Young master, it would be appropriate for you to choose a gift for Lady Carter —she said quietly—. It is customary to offer a present when visiting such establishments with a lady.
Lusian blinked, confused.
—Ah… is that so?
The maid nodded elegantly.
—It would be impolite to leave empty-handed, sir.
Emily looked at him amused, clearly enjoying his awkward reaction. Lusian sighed inwardly. So there are rules for this too… he thought, stepping into the store with resignation.
The interior smelled of soft incense and polished metal. Behind the counter, an elderly jeweler greeted him with reverence. Lusian pointed at the first thing that caught his eye: a silver pendant with a blue stone, the same color as Emily's eyes. The maid nodded subtly, approving the choice.
When the jeweler wrapped it and handed it over, Lusian awkwardly offered it to her.
—I suppose… this is customary, right?
Emily looked surprised, then smiled gently.
—Yes. But thank you, Lusian. It's beautiful.
She held the pendant between her fingers, and for a moment, the stone's light reflected in her eyes. Lusian didn't know whether it was the jewel's glow or Emily's smile, but he felt that moment suspend itself, as if time itself held the magic of it between them.
For the rest of the walk, they spoke little, but the tension between them began to fade. Lusian watched Emily with growing attention. She had a natural grace when speaking with others, even merchants or maids who approached them. And then he realized something he had overlooked until now: Emily wasn't just a character from the game in his memories. She was a real person, with fears, with dreams… and with a gaze that didn't match the tragic fate he remembered.
For the first time, Lusian felt that his story could change.
They were heading back to the carriage when a nearby commotion disrupted the calm of their stroll. Shouts, hurried footsteps, and the metallic sound of a sword being drawn filled the air. Both turned at once.
In the adjacent square, a small crowd had gathered around a group of men dressed in elegant clothing. At the center, a young man in simple clothes shielded a girl with his body as she clung to his back. Facing them, a nobleman with an arrogant expression held his sword in a threatening stance.
—You have stained my honor, commoner! —the noble shouted—. I challenge you to a duel to the death!
Emily frowned. —Another absurd dispute...
Lusian watched with interest. This was new to him. —A duel? Are they allowed to do that in the middle of the street? —he asked quietly one of the duchy's knights.
The man shook his head. —No, young master. Public duels are forbidden. They may only take place in the minor coliseum, under the supervision of a royal official.
—The minor coliseum? —Lusian repeated, intrigued.
—That's right —the knight explained—. Nobles have the right to defend their honor, but the kingdom enforces rules to prevent unnecessary deaths. Everything must be done under oath and officially recorded.
Lusian nodded slowly. That said a great deal about the kingdom: even violence had a protocol.
At that moment, one of the onlookers murmured the noble's name. —It's Baron Joel Denisse Mofet.
Lusian studied him more carefully. His bearing was arrogant, the kind of man accustomed to never being contradicted. In contrast, the challenged youth looked ordinary: brown hair, dark eyes, and hands hardened by labor. He couldn't have been more than twenty-one. Behind him, the girl he protected trembled, though her eyes showed a mix of fear and determination.
Lusian narrowed his eyes. A noble abusing his title to humiliate someone else… How typical.
The crowd moved forward amid shouts and murmurs, driven by curiosity and morbid fascination. Lusian and Emily let themselves be carried along to the minor coliseum, a circular stone structure with an air more ancient than majestic. The sound of the crowd echoed off the walls, creating a mix of anticipation and tension that made Lusian frown. It wasn't fear he felt, but something more uncomfortable—the sense of witnessing something that shouldn't exist in a civilized kingdom.
Upon entering, Lusian noticed the coliseum was much smaller than he had imagined, yet no less imposing. The stands were nearly full, and in the center, dust rose with every step of the duelists preparing themselves. To one side, Baron Joel Denisse Mofet spoke with a man of firm bearing, clad in the armor of the royal guard: Knight Alan Baldwin, the official overseeing the duel.
A chill ran down Lusian's spine. This was no mere spectacle; it was about honor, rules, and potentially blood. And he was right in the middle of it, observing every detail, learning with open eyes.
—By royal decree —Baldwin announced in a loud, clear voice— duels are permitted only if the conditions established by the Crown are met.
The murmur of the crowd died instantly. All eyes turned to the knight, attentive to every word.
Alan Baldwin stepped into the center of the coliseum and raised a magical artifact glowing with a faint blue light.
—According to royal decree, before each duel the participants' category must be verified —he explained as the device began emitting a low, steady hum, measuring the mana flow of the contenders.
Lusian watched closely. It reminded him of long nights in the duchy's library, studying texts about the regulation of magical power in the kingdom. In that system, a person's strength was measured by their affinity and control of mana, divided into seven ranks:
Lusian observed in silence as the artifact completed its reading. It was not the first time he had seen such a device, but it was the first time witnessing it in a real context.
The kingdom's classification system was simple in theory, but brutal in practice.
The weakest, the Initiates, could barely perceive the flow of mana—apprentices still struggling to understand what magic truly meant.
Above them were the Adepts, trained warriors and mages capable of reinforcing their bodies or casting basic spells with consistency. Both combatants fell into this category.
Next came the Legionaries, where combat ceased to be a mere exchange of techniques and became a war of endurance, with far more refined mana control.
Above them, the Lords wielded their energy as an extension of themselves, natural leaders on any battlefield.
Magisters no longer merely controlled mana—they influenced it with their very presence.
Champions were something else entirely. Figures of legend.
And finally, the Omicron… beings whose existence bordered on theory, as if even the world itself doubted their reality.
The artifact emitted a sharp beep, pulling him back to the present.
The device finished its reading, and Alan Baldwin announced solemnly:
—Edmon: level thirty-one, Adept rank. —Darren Acre: level thirty-eight, Adept rank.
Lusian nodded to himself. Both were within the same rank, making the duel lawful.
Even so, he couldn't shake a strange feeling. Compared to them, his own level was higher. His training with Albert had taken him beyond the Adept rank.
He observed the fighters with a calculating gaze. Every movement, every muscle tension, every controlled breath… all spoke of the difference between knowledge and experience, between theory and the practice of magic and swordsmanship.
Emily, beside him, seemed to hold her breath. Lusian sensed her unease, and for a moment wished he could protect her—not just from curious stares, but from the violence about to unfold on that dusty arena floor.