The arena thundered with clapping, stomping, and chants from the audience. Shadows from the high wall stretched under the angled sun as Vel slid into the participant benches. Celia and Tomas dropped into their seats beside him.
"I should have let Enya take my place..." Tomas slumped forward, his face a pale shade of green.
Celia sat in silence, her fingers drumming a restless beat against the hilt of her rapier.
"We'll be down there soon enough." Vel said, his gaze fixed on the battlefield below, where the sand shimmered under the protective wards.
"Don't remind me." Tomas muttered.
A horn's call cut through the noise, long and commanding.
War drums followed, steady and thunderous, their rhythm forcing the crowd into silence.
A figure shifted on the podium high along the arena wall, drawing the eyes of nearby students. A hush followed.
"Welcome, welcome!" The voice echoed, not from shouting but from magic woven into the air itself. "To the grand beginning of..."
He paused just a beat, then his arms snapped upward. "...the Ternion Tournament!"
The eruption nearly shook the stone. Cheers, whistles, pounding feet—all crashing together in a storm of sound.
Vel let the noise crash over him. In the brief lull that followed, he whispered.
"Altheris Visona." His finger traced short, quick motions.
The world snapped into focus. His vision shot upward, closing the distance to the high booth built into the wall. He could now clearly see the announcer's podium: a small spyglass on a stand, and beside it, a golden frame holding a star-shaped crystal that carried his calm, rhythmic words.
The announcer leaned toward it.
"I—Janos Verterre—shall be your guide through every clash and triumph!"
From behind, a soft voice reached Vel.
"Master Vel, did you call for me?"
Hileya had appeared, her posture respectful but her tone calm.
"Oh Hileya, you're here. Come sit and watch with us. You'll learn far more here than running errands."
Hileya slowly settled into the seat behind them, her eyes quietly scanning the arena as the noise settled once more.
Janos's voice, brimming with excitement.
"What I expect to see today is nothing less than the future of our kingdom's magical prowess! Raw talent being shaped before our very eyes!"
He gestured theatrically. "Will we see explosive potential? Or perhaps the unexpected strategies of our more... uniquely attuned students?"
"Of course, that's usually when half of them end up flat on their backs in under a minute, but tradition must be honored every three years."
Laughter rippled through the audience, rising and falling in waves before fading back into eager silence.
Some students turned their heads toward Vel's group. Vel tilted his head slightly, as if agreeing with the joke.
With a final flourish, Janos swept his hand toward the air. "And now, let us reveal the fates that await our brave competitors!"
YOU ARE READING
GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation
FantasyWhen renowned game developer Giri meets his untimely end, he awakens as twelve-year-old Vel in the magical realm of Aeonalus-his own creation. Five hundred years have passed since he crafted the world, and Vel finds himself in the village of Oakhave...
