New World

Chapter 25 - Curse Of Death

"M-my Prince! Why are you here?" the announcer humbled himself, as he went to the Prince on a knee.

In the corner of my eye, the King caught my attention as he rose his hand.

"Sir announcer stop stalling. Let the match continue—that's an order!" the King declared.

"As you say, my King!" The announcer turned to the Prince. "Please pardon any ignorance I may have displayed towards you—Prince Edward."

The announcer stood up and returned to the floating platform, and asked the opponents to introduce themselves once again—as usual.

"My name is Chelsea, and the title I earned from my master is, 'The Angel.'"

"I am Edward, the rightful heir to our Kingdoms head, and the title awarded to me by our King is, 'The Dark Prince!'"

The Prince snickered at Jay again, before he looked back down at Chelsea.

"Don't worry, Jay, Chelsea can protect herself. He won't do anything that could be interpreted as an act of war... not yet," Sara stated.

"I know he has strong manipulation magic, but exactly how powerful is the Prince?" I asked.

"I hate to admit it... but if he wanted to, he could easily sink this whole stadium into darkness—killing every single one of us," Jay answered. "But thankfully, that isn't an option. If the Prince killed us, it could start a war against the Kingdom, and we don't believe he desires a war of that kind. Besides, killing me wouldn't do him any good—if he desires my power, he needs me alive. Until he can have it, he will have his fun."

"Fun?"

"Yes, the Prince wants to frame me—a setup—that is his fun. He plans to change my image within the Kingdom. You see, in the Kingdom, I'm seen as an honored warrior of the Fire Nation that won the respect of the Princess, and in turn, she gave me her heart. First, the Prince forced me in a situation where I had to fight someone without any magic. It made me appear like I don't care about the weak. And now he will go after those dear to me, trying to provoke a reaction, all in the hopes it will get more people on his side—the idea that I am someone dangerous."

Once Jay finished, I looked down, and it seemed that we were so deep into our conversations that we missed the opening of the match. Chelsea had her pistols out. She was trying to keep her distance as she shot at the Prince, but they weren't hitting their mark. The bullets curved around the Prince as they got close to him. He didn't flinch as he wasn't even paying attention—

"You see, this is why we don't care for him," Jay said, leaning forward, almost out of his chair. "To be this arrogant is beyond understanding—no one but him would dare read a book during the middle of an official match. He hasn't changed at all—believing that everyone around him is lower than himself. I can't wait to teach him a lesson!"

"Watch it, Jay! You need to control yourself," Sara commanded.

Jay sat back in his chair and went silent. I knew his anger was not calming down—quite the opposite actually. Given the opportunity, Jay would gladly explode on the Prince.

I looked back down, and Chelsea took a moment to examine the results of fighting the way she was and decided to summon out her sniper. She took a supporting knee, and eyed into the scope... I could feel the raw power flowing from the air into the barrel of the gun—it was unlike anything I've been able to use.

"Oh, grand spirits of the sea, guide the wave of my essence to the threat that stands before me," Chelsea chanted. "I ask of thee to grant my thirst of power and to allow your strength to flow from me, and into my champion. Ninety-nine percent power."