Blaze of Glory

The mere sight of her brother shattered Riona's concentration, pulling her attention away from the arena. In that crucial moment of distraction, number 10 decided that it was the perfect time to turn her into a human punching bag.

Riona noticed number 10's reliance on physical strength rather than vampiric abilities. For some reason, he might not be able to use her vampiric abilities, or he might not possess such powers altogether.

She folded herself on the ground, elbows covering her head. Through the narrow gap between her arms, she stole a glance upward, locking eyes with Florian, whose expression was filled with sheer terror.

Oh, Dark Lord! Florian's tears were the last thing she wanted to witness. It was as if a dagger was piercing through her heart.

There was no doubt about it. Lisbeth had purposely brought Florian to the arena with a clear intention of sabotaging Riona's performance.

Why did Lisbeth want to prevent her from joining the Nightwarden? Hadn't she tormented Riona and Florian enough already?

Clenching her jaws with determination, Riona refused to be a pawn in Lisbeth's game. Lisbeth might set the stage, and Riona had to admit that it caught her off guard, but if this was a game, then Riona would emerge victorious, as she always did, especially against that princess.

With a swift movement, Riona twisted her body, narrowly avoiding number 10's punch aimed at her lower body. In a lightning-fast counterattack, she aimed a fierce kick at his stomach, but his agility saved him from the full impact.

But Riona's had enough of playing nice. Rising to her feet, she summoned her power, a familiar warmth coursing through her veins.

Who cares which power she wields as long as it can drown out Florian's tears? She had to win this duel if she wanted to silence Lisbeth's ridiculous attempt to destroy Riona's effort and dry Florian's eyes.

Closing her eyes, Riona focused all her energy, surrounding herself with a protective barrier of crimson arrows. Then, she screamed as she unleashed her power.

A radiant red aura, the color of blood, erupted from her, engulfing the entire arena in its fiery embrace.

Chaos ensued as the knights scattered and the Umbra Grounds descended into turmoil. Guards rushed to protect the audience, while elite Nightwatch units ensured the safety of nobles, royals, and Thorin.

All thanks to Riona, the queen of dramatic exits and collateral damage. But to be fair, it wasn't completely her fault. No, let's reserve a hefty portion of the blame for Lisbeth, the mastermind behind this chaos.

Bringing Florian into the Umbra Grounds was a low blow, even for her.

Riona knew she couldn't risk unleashing her full power—level one was pushing it, so maybe one and a half—but she dared not venture into level two territory out of fear that she would lose consciousness again.

Yet, even her restrained power, when unleashed in this confined arena with the audience trapped by the cliffs and trees, proved too volatile, too catastrophic.

"The winner is number four!"

Number 10's unconscious body was dragged out of the arena, leaving Riona standing alone in the vast field.

"Next up, we've got number three. Can she maintain her dominance, or will she be dethroned by someone stronger?"

Riona hated the melodramatic announcer's guts to paint a picture of impending doom. Someone stronger than her?

"Lose to someone stronger?" She scoffed internally. As if! More like someone who can catch her off guard with a well-timed distraction.

This was her arena, her domain. There was no way she would yield her position now.

Number three strode into the arena. The once bustling area stood abandoned with the audience relocated to a safe distance, far from the impending clash. Even the tents reserved for royalty and nobility sat empty, their occupants wisely opting for a safer vantage point.

Who in their right mind would want to be on the receiving end of Riona's wrath? After all, these vampires went to great lengths to avoid being scorched by the relentless sun; why willingly subject oneself to the searing flames of Riona's power?

Yet, despite the deserted arena, there had to be someone present to ensure the integrity of the Trial–Kai, a fearless volunteer for the suicide mission. His willingness to risk life and limb spoke volumes about his bravery, or perhaps his foolhardiness.

But then again, he was the only one with a fighting chance of surviving Riona's deadly inferno.

Number three was a seasoned man in his thirties. He had a quiet confidence in him, and his gaze bore the weight of experience. Riona was sure that number three must have tried the Nightwarden Trials more than once–maybe even more than twice.

She knew better than to underestimate him. From the moment their eyes locked, Riona sensed she was up against a formidable opponent.

Number three's movements were calculated. His strategies were meticulously planned. Each move was executed with precision.

But even the most well-prepared opponent couldn't evade Riona's level one-and-a-half onslaught. The flames she wielded were relentless, consuming everything in their path, including number three's efforts.

And then we have number two, a flippant young man. His reputation preceded him, a scion of a noble lineage with a legacy of service to the Nightwarden. It seemed almost inevitable that he would rise to the top.

But alas, even his distinguished lineage couldn't save him from Riona's inferno. Sure, he was good, but good doesn't cut it when you're up against a speed demon like number 10 or a strategic mastermind like number three.

And when it comes to defending against Riona's flames, well, let's just say it's like trying to put out a forest fire with bare hands.

How number three had managed to secure his position was one of the world's greatest mysteries. It was as if the stars had aligned in his favor, granting him a rank that defied all logic.

But the biggest plot twist appeared when number one sauntered onto the scene.

Riona was expecting a bulky, experienced warrior, a battle-hardened veteran ready to take on the world. Instead, she gets a pint-sized pup with an innocent face.

She's half-tempted to ask if there's been some mistake, if Sir Kai accidentally enrolled a toddler instead of a participant. But alas, she bites her sarcastic tongue, remembering not to discriminate against the vertically challenged.

Maybe this kid's got influential parents who pulled a few strings to get her in the arena. Who knows? It's the Nightwarden Trials, anything goes, apparently.

With a resigned sigh, Riona decides to wrap things up quickly. She would finish number one in the most gentle manner considering her age. But just as she's about to make her move, bam!

Suddenly, it feels like the weight of the world (or at least a small elephant) drops onto her shoulders, sending her crashing to the ground. Gasping for air, her strength drained away as if sucked into a void.

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