As he reached downstairs. Cynthia had already prepared Parfait and delicious-looking meal — and the scent hit me the moment he stepped down.
"Please, eat. This is a good-luck meal," she replied, fussing a little as she set the plate in front of me. "I don’t mean it’ll magically win the tournament for you, but stay strong. Defeat Luthar for me."
"Don’t worry," I said. "You don’t have to keep reminding me. He’ll be defeated." I didn’t bother to tell her that if I wanted to finish him with a single punch, I could — no matter what tricks he’s learned.
Cynthia looked worried, but she nodded. "I hope what you say is true. I believe in you. I’ll be out for a bit — close the door when you leave." She shrugged into her apron, picked up her bag, and left.
It looked like Cynthia had been in a hurry, Nolan thought, glancing at the empty apron left behind.
The meal was already good, but then his eyes landed on the cup sitting at the edge of the tray. Wait... is this ice cream? He picked up his spoon, dipped it carefully, and took a bite.
"This is... delicious! Magnificent!" Nolan said before he could stop himself.
Celia and Linda both turned to him, eyes sharp. He froze, spoon still in his mouth. Damn it, will they be angry at me again? Just because I praised Cynthia’s food?
But instead of frowning, they leaned forward curiously, dipped their own spoons, and tasted it.
"Wow, so good!" Celia said, her face brightening.
"It tastes magnificent!" Linda added, her eyes widening.
Relieved, Nolan chuckled and dug in with them. The three of them started eating quickly, savoring every bite.
Since I came to this world, I haven’t eaten ice cream. I almost forgot it even existed, Nolan thought, letting the cold sweetness melt on his tongue.
"It’s like I’m in heaven. I can feel butterflies in my stomach," Celia said dreamily.
"Same here," Linda agreed.
Soon, the cups were empty.
"Wow, that was really, really tasty," Celia said, licking her spoon.
"Yeah... it was," Linda nodded. "And it was my first time having it."
"It was really good," Nolan admitted.
Both girls glanced at him silently after he said it, their expressions unreadable. They still haven’t forgotten, Nolan thought, wincing inwardly. The thing I said yesterday about Cynthia’s cooking being better...
Just then, Lyra came downstairs, rubbing her eyes.
"Ah, I smelled food. That’s why I came down. No one told me it was ready," she said with a yawn.
"Hey, you foodie," Nolan smirked. "Now you’re coming, after everything’s already done. And guess what—you missed something tastier than anything you’ve ever eaten."
Lyra leaned forward and eyed the dining table. The ice cream was gone—except for one lonely spoonful left in the bowl. She scooped it up and tasted it.
Everything froze for a second. Her eyes widened. "What is this?" she breathed. The sweetness exploded across her tongue—pure, impossible. It felt like being carried into another world. Lightness prickled at her limbs; for a heartbeat she seemed to lift from the floor, hovering a hair’s breadth above the chair. Then she came down, clutching the bowl like it was the last treasure on earth.
"Where’s more? I need more," she whispered, panic and awe tangled in her voice.
Nolan, Celia, and Linda were already finishing their plates. Nolan glanced up, amused. "It’s finished," he said.
"No—no, you can’t mean that. That was the last spoon?" Lyra sputtered. "I want more. I don’t want it to end. I want more!"
"Your meal is on the table. Sit and eat like a normal person," Nolan told her, trying not to smile.
"Normal? There’s nothing normal about that taste," Lyra insisted, eyes half-closed as if recalling paradise. "It was—divine. I’ve never had anything like it." She opened and closed her hands, still feeling the echo of flavor on her tongue.
"Come on, let’s go," Nolan said, gathering his sword. Celia and Linda nodded. They rose, cast one last amused look at Lyra, and slipped out the door. Nolan shut it behind them.
Lyra blinked and looked around the suddenly quiet room. "They’re gone already?" she murmured, slightly dazed. She pressed her face to the door for a moment, then to the empty bowl, as if the ice cream might magically reappear.
They laughed as they walked toward the arena. Lyra kept talking about the ice cream—how she wanted more, how nothing had ever tasted like that. "She always goes for sweets," Nolan said with a grin. "I don’t think she’s ever had anything that good."
Linda laughed, nodding. "You can tell. She lights up whenever she eats. She really loves food."
"We left her at home," Celia said. "She’s going to be so pissed." Thɪs chapter is updated by NoveI[F]ire.net
"Yeah, she will," Nolan agreed, then pushed off with a smile. "But there’s nothing we can do about that now. Come on—let’s move. To the arena."
They picked up their pace, laughter still hanging in the air as the coliseum loomed ahead.
They slipped in through the participants’ entrance, avoiding the flood of spectators pouring through the main gates. Inside, the waiting area wasn’t as crowded as before. Instead of the buzzing chaos of dozens of competitors, only a handful remained—no more than twenty-five.
Nolan scanned the room. "Last time, there were twice this number... even if they fought one another, they shouldn’t have dropped below forty." His brow furrowed. "So how did they cut it down this much?"
"Yeah, it’s strange," Linda murmured, her eyes moving across the chamber.
It was then that Tharion spotted them. His face brightened, and he raised a hand, waving with a cheerful smile. The gesture felt oddly out of place in such a tense atmosphere, but it brought a flicker of warmth to the group.
Linda followed his line of sight and froze. Standing near him was Kyrion—calm, poised, and sharp-eyed. Beside him, Cora and Sera lingered close, almost like shadows, their presence heavy and unshakable.
The sight made Linda tighten her grip on her sleeve. "Cora... Sela... they’re here too."
The arena’s holding area wasn’t filled with hopefuls anymore. Everyone who remained had already proven themselves.