The colosseum thrummed with anticipation, the sun beating down on the central stage like a judgmental eye.

At the center of the arena, two figures now stood face to face.

Amelia Wystan—the nervous commoner girl with long brown ponytail swaying in the breeze—frowned up at her opponent, warm brown eyes narrowed in determination.

The blouse strained over her full C-cup breasts, rising and falling with each anxious breath. She clenched her fists—earth mana flickering faintly around her knuckles, hardening them into makeshift stone gloves.

Across from her, Lord Harlan Flueron smirked down—tall, lean, with slicked-back blond hair and cold eyes that screamed noble entitlement.

Fire mana danced on his skin like living embers. “Well, mud-blood,” he drawled, voice dripping condescension, “this should be over quickly. Try not to embarrass your kind too much.”

Mee’s cheeks flushed with anger, but she held her ground—ponytail whipping as she shifted her stance. “You nobles always talk big,” she muttered, voice steady despite the tremor in her legs. “Let’s see if your fire’s as hot as your mouth.”

From the highest gallery, a clear voice cut through the murmurs like a bell.

“Amelia! You can do this! Do it for Ethan!”

Heads turned—nobles frowning, commoners craning necks.

It was Liana Starweaver—cheering her on, ash-brown hair falling into her hazel eyes, waving enthusiastically with a grin that lit up her face. Her voluptuous figure shifted as she yelled again, “Give him hell! Show that noble prick what commoners are made of!”

Amelia’s head snapped up—eyes locking on Liana’s. A beam split her face, wide and genuine, ponytail bouncing as she nodded fiercely. “Thanks, Liana! I got this!”

She turned back to Harlan—fists clenching tighter, earth mana hardening her skin to a dull gray sheen. *For Kee,* she thought, heart pounding. *I’ll give everything. Then… then he’ll tell me.*

Up in the gallery, Lysandra tilted her head toward Liana. “You know her?”

Liana nodded, still grinning, though her eyes softened. “Yeah. Amelia and I go way back. She’s tough as nails—farm girl through and through. Always with her crush, though.”

Venya rumbled curiously, crimson wings rustling. “Crush?”

“Mmm…” Liana’s grin turned mischievous. “Ethan Leilive. Childhood best friend and love. Been stuck on him since they were kids. Too scared to tell him, of course.”

Nayla leaned forward—blue-tinted lips curving seductively. “How is this boy like? Handsome? Strong?”

Aiden’s voice came low—warning edge. “Nayla…”

Nayla pouted playfully, batting her lashes. “Husband… I’m just asking. You know you’re the only one for me.” Her mischievous smile never faded, but she blew him a kiss.

Aiden’s eyes narrowed—half amused, half serious. “You better remember that. All of you.”

The wives exchanged nervous smiles—then Selvara, Nyxion, and Luna moved in unison. Nyxion pressed a soft kiss to his right cheek, Selvara to his left, Luna to his lips—all at the same time.

“Promise,” they said together, voices overlapping like a vow.

Aiden’s expression softened. “I love you too.”

Liana watched the exchange with a chuckle. “Ethan’s the same with her—kind, always looking at her like she’s everything. Teases her a lot, though. Never acts like that toward me.”

Thristle grinned, eyeing Aiden sidelong. “Reminds me of someone…”

Aiden’s hand tightened on Nyxion’s shoulder—pulling her closer. “And I’ll remind you who you belong to.”

Thristle laughed, undeterred. “See… He teases a lot.”

Valeforia nodded, smirking. “That he does.”

Suddenly, a soft voice came from the edge of the gallery. “Umm… can I sit with you all?”

Everyone turned.

Ela Voss stood there—hands clasped behind her back, lavender hair falling over one amethyst eye, cheeks faintly pink.

Lysandra blinked—then smiled warmly. “Ela? Yes, please.”

Ela bowed slightly—nervous but grateful. “Thank you…”

Liana’s excited voice cut in immediately. “Here! Here!” She patted the spot beside her on the bench, ash-brown hair bouncing. “Plenty of room.”

“I-I can?” Ela asked, eyes widening.

“Yes! I wanted a bit of company anyway,” Liana replied, grinning wide. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

“T-Thanks…” Ela murmured, sitting carefully beside her, hands folded in her lap.

Liana turned—beaming. “I’m Liana Starweaver. Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ela Voss.”

Ela bowed her head politely. “Same… it’s an honor.”

Aiden cleared his throat—voice low but carrying. “Guys… the duel’s about to start.”

All eyes dropped to the arena floor.

Elowen’s voice rang out—cold, final.

“First duel: Amelia Wystan versus Lord Harlan Flueron. Begin.”

“Amelia! You’ve got this! Kick his noble ass!”

Harlan moved first—fast, confident.

He flicked his wand. A Flame Lance erupted from the tip—long, spear-like, blazing orange-white, streaking straight for Mee’s chest like a comet.

Mee’s eyes widened—instinct kicked in.

She twisted sideways—Wind Burst exploding from her palm in a short, desperate gust. The air shoved her body just enough; the Flame Lance scorched past her shoulder, singeing the edge of her blazer and filling her nose with the stink of burnt cloth. Heat washed over her skin—painful but not lethal.

The crowd gasped—commoners leaning forward, nobles scoffing.

Harlan clicked his tongue. “Dodging already? Pathetic. Hold still.”

He thrust his wand again—another Flame Lance, this one wider, hotter.

Mee dropped low—rolling across the concrete, ponytail whipping. She came up on one knee—right arm cocked back. Earth mana surged—her fist hardened into solid stone.

“Stone Fist!” she shouted—voice cracking with effort—and lunged.

Harlan smirked—Ember Cloak flaring around him like a second skin of living flame, the wand in his hand glowing brighter.

Mee’s rock-hard punch slammed into his chest.

Flames hissed—meeting stone with a sharp *crack*. The impact rippled through his aura—Ember Cloak buckling for a split second. Harlan staggered back two steps—surprise flashing across his arrogant face. A small scorch mark appeared on his pristine blazer; ribs creaked under the force.

The commoner galleries exploded.

“She hit him!”

“She actually hit a noble!”

“Go, Amelia!”

Harlan snarled—anger replacing surprise. “Filthy peasant… you dare?!”

He raised his wand—flames roaring along its length.

“Flame Lance—double!”

Two blazing spears shot forward—faster, hotter, aimed to skewer her from both sides.

Mee’s heart hammered. *No time to dodge both—*

She slammed both hands down—earth mana surging. A small, rough Earth Wall erupted from the concrete—barely three feet high, two feet wide. The lances struck it simultaneously—exploding in twin blasts of fire and shattered stone. Shards flew; heat scorched her arms and face. The wall crumbled in five seconds flat.

Mee staggered back—coughing, uniform singed, small cuts on her cheeks and forearms. Blood trickled from a shallow gash on her forehead.

Harlan laughed—cold, mocking. “That’s all you’ve got? A pathetic dirt wall? You’re done.”

He stepped forward—flames licking higher along his wand.

Mee wiped blood from her eye—ponytail disheveled, breaths coming in harsh pants. Her legs shook. Mana reserves were already dangerously low—arms trembling from the strain of two spells.

*Give up?* The thought flickered—then died.

Kee’s voice echoed in her head again: *Give your best… I’ll tell you something.*

Her eyes hardened.

“Not yet,” she whispered—to herself, to him, to the crowd.

She charged—full sprint across the open concrete, skirt flapping, breasts bouncing painfully with each step. No more walls. No more bursts. Just raw, stubborn heart.

Harlan raised his wand—smirking wider.

“Come on, then. Let’s finish this.”

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END OF CHAPTER : 271 : CHILDHOOD FRIENDS!

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep