The tournament arena was buzzing with excitement. Groups of people surrounded Emberfist and all of top ten of the tournament.

  The only person who seemed disappointed was Pip. He slunk off, seeming broken. Even though he had hit second place.

  Little Shadow was excited to see the end of the tournament. Perched on my shoulder, its tiny form vibrating with excitement as it always did when witnessing displays of power. The creature had grown fond of combat spectacles, often mimicking the fighters' movements when it thought I wasn't looking.

  'That was quite the performance,' I remarked to no one in particular, though Little Shadow chirped in agreement.

  As Pip walked towards the exit.

  I noticed a stir, near that same exit. An elderly man in elaborate robes stepped forward, his bearing aristocratic, his face a mask of barely concealed contempt. The insignia on his robe was unmistakable—House Thorne of Miragos.

  This should be interesting. I thought to myself. Little Shadow shifted on my shoulder, its violent eyes fixing on the approaching elder with a predatory focus.

  The old man approached Pip with measured steps, the crowd parting before him like water around a stone. Even from my distance, I could sense the tension crackling between them.

  'Young man,' the elder began, his voice carrying across the suddenly hushed arena, 'I believe you owe my family an apology for your conduct during this tournament.'

  Pip's dejected expression vanished, replaced by a look of defiance. 'An apology? For what, exactly?'

  'For your disgraceful behaviour toward young Master Dorian,' the elder replied. 'Such brutality was entirely unnecessary.'

  Pip's face flushed with anger. 'I didn't do anything wrong! The rules allow for—'

  'You deliberately targeted him,' the elder cut him off. 'We all saw it.'

  Tavalor leaned forward, suddenly more interested.

  The confrontation was escalating quickly, and there was something about the elder's posture that suggested this was more than mere posturing. Little Shadow sensed my interest, stretching its shadowy form upward for a better view.

  Is this the climax?Tavalor wondered. Is this where the elders bullying forces Pip to run away, then he will break relations with Tavalor and then come back years later as an all powerful [S-Class] to destroy Vallenport?

  If so, how predictable.

  As Tavalor watched, the elder made a subtle gesture with his hand—so subtle that most observers missed it entirely. But my [Dragon Sight] caught the faint shimmer of magic as a binding spell activated, aimed directly at Pip.

  Pip, surprisingly, sensed it coming. With a deft movement, he redirected the spell—not away from himself, but toward a specific target in the audience.

  Young Dorian, the defeated competitor, jerked in his seat as the spell struck him instead, causing him to spasm briefly before slumping forward.

  'Interesting choice,' I murmured. Little Shadow made a sound like tiny bubbling laughter.

  The elder's face darkened with rage. 'So young, yet so vicious,' he said, his voice carrying the weight of judgment. 'I will execute you on behalf of the clan. Are you even aware of your crimes?'

  Knew it.

  Pip spread his arms in exasperation. 'What crimes? What are you talking about?'

  'You intended to cripple the young master's cultivation,' the elder stated flatly. 'Your actions in the arena made that clear.'

  'It's a contest,' Pip retorted. 'Knives and fists are blind.'

  The elder's mouth curled in disdain. 'Ridiculous. I would have pardoned you, but since you persist in this facade of innocence...'

  From the audience, murmurs rippled: 'That elder is tough but fair.'

  'He's a strictler for the rules, once he gets started there's no stopping him.'

  'Fair,' I scoffed under my breath. Little Shadow mimicked my dismissive head shake.

  'You have broken the sacred rules of the tournament,' the elder declared. 'I sentence you to imprisonment for three months to reflect on your actions.'

  To my mild surprise, Pip simply turned and began walking away.

  'I was only in Vallenport as a stepping stone,' he said over his shoulder. 'I'm done here anyway.'

  'Where do you think you're going?' the elder demanded. 'Do you believe you can simply leave?'

  Pip stopped, his back still to the elder. 'If I want to leave, nobody can stop me.'

  Two other mid-level elders from the Thorne family stopped in front of Pip. With the old Elder at the back, they formed a triangle surrounding Pip.

  Then something unexpected happened.

  Pip turned, his face contorting with effort as he unleashed his aura. The pressure built in waves, pushing outward like a physical force. First, it reached [B-Class] level, causing the weaker spectators to gasp and clutch their seats.

  Then, remarkably, it continued growing, surging to [B-Class].

  A golden nimbus surrounded him, his hair standing upright, his eyes shifting from their normal colour to bright blue.

  'I can't believe it turned out like this,' I sighed, resting my chin on my palm. Little Shadow mimicked my posture, settling into a similar position on my shoulder.

  Originally, I had expected something unique, something surprising. But this was all so predictable—the hidden strength, the dramatic reveal.

  If things followed the usual pattern, Pip would vanish now, only to return in several years as an [S-Class] to exact his revenge.

  My disappointment deepened as Pip continued his power display, cycling through low-tier, mid-tier, all the way to top-tier [B-Class]. Then a notch further to low-tier [A-Class]. The crowd watched in stunned silence, many backing away from the platform.

  'You finally reveal yourself,' the elder said, not a trace of surprise in his voice.

  'Low-tier [A-Class],' the elder continued, his tone condescending. 'Not bad in this place, but no different from an ant in the wider world.'

  Then Pip spoke, but his voice had changed—deeper, more resonant, carrying the weight of age and experience. 'What? You don't want my disciple to leave?'

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The elder's expression shifted subtly. 'Since this is your disciple, why did you want him to stay in Vallenport?'

  Despite the revealed power, the elder remained calm, showing no panic.

  'Why should I tell you?' Pip's voice—or rather, the voice speaking through Pip—replied.

  Oh, so his advantage/golden finger was having a secret grandpa as his mentor I thought with a mental eye roll. I wonder who this entity could be? No such memories in Old Tavalor's recollections either.

  'It's an honour to have my disciple be part of this backwater town,' the voice continued haughtily.

  'Aren't you being too arrogant?' the elder asked.

  'Arrogant? You weren't even born when I was dominating this world,' came the reply, Pip's eyes now looking distant, lost in ancient memories that weren't his own.

  'Really?' the elder countered. 'Then how come you're dead?'

  'Cut the nonsense,' the voice snarled. 'I'll remember you. I'll seek ten times the revenge.'

  The words hung in the air, a promise of vengeance.Tavalorwondered how the elder could possibly let him go after such a threat.

  Instead of responding verbally, the elder launched an attack—a more mature version of the technique Young Dorian Thorne had used in the tournament.

  A speed based stab with a rapier.

  Evidently, the Thorne family specialised speed.

  Pip—or the entity within him—reached out and crushed the magical attack with a bare fist.

  His appearance had changed; he looked paler, with the blond hair and blue eyes, and more graceful, as if someone else wore his skin.

  Before the situation could escalate further, another figure arrived on the platform—D. Crestfall, the gnome, Vice Guildmaster of the Adventurers Guild, his small frame exuding [A-Class] power.

  'Why are you trying to bully us with numbers?' Pip demanded.

  Crestfall's face remained impassive. 'Cripple your cultivation and go to jail for three months.'

  'I don't agree,' Pip stated flatly.

  'You don't have a choice,' Crestfall replied, raising his hands.

  The air rippled as Crestfall summoned the city's shield, a suppression field designed to contain even powerful cultivators. Crestfall's strength was well-known; he had fought off two elite [A-Class] attackers during the Miragos invasion and held his own. Since then, he had accumulated artefacts from the fallen city, further enhancing his capabilities.

  Pip, sensing the danger, shot into the sky. The elder and Crestfall followed.

  Then Pip executed a special technique, vanishing completely, only to reappear seconds later on the central platform.

  He looked astonished. He tried the teleportation technique again, and again returned to the same spot.

  After several attempts, Pip's confusion was evident. He had exhausted half his Mana and seemed genuinely baffled. 'What is going on?' he demanded.

  This was a special teleportation technique. Acquired through the use of an ancient artifact. A [Ten Thousand Leagues Away] amulet.

  It had always worked.

  But Tavalor had interfered with it. Causing it to circle back every time it was used.

  It was me. Tavalor thought in reply to Pip's question. Tavalor smiled, watching with growing interest. Little Shadow vibrated with excitement, picking up on my subtle actions.

  Both the elder and Crestfall seemed equally surprised by Pip's inability to escape.

  Crestfall glanced back at the audience, his gaze settling on Tavalor, who sat watching the proceedings while sipping wine.

  'What did you do?' Pip asked, frustration evident in his voice.

  Crestfall smiled in amusement, stroking his beard. 'Why should I tell you?'

  I could almost see Pip's thoughts churning. The rumours of an [S-Class] cultivator in Vallenport must have reached him. If the legends were true, an [S-Class] could do almost anything.

  'This is Vallenport,' Crestfall stated calmly. 'We don't let anybody cross the line here.'

  The audience members looked touched by this declaration of protection. I couldn't help but laugh.

  'That's why Crestfall is in charge,' I thought. 'I would have simply thrown a fireball by now.'

  Crestfall had existed as an [S-Class] cultivator for a long time. He understood how these situations typically unfolded and wasn't foolish enough to escalate unnecessarily. The punishment was merely a pretext; Pip would disappear, one way or another.

  It seemed as if Crestfall was about to evacuate the audience in preparation for a serious confrontation.

  Alright, enough. This is boring. Tavalor thought.

  A massive [Mage Hand] appeared from thin air, glowing with golden energy.

  It was the size of several tall buildings, it appeared overhead above Pip.

  It was so powerful, that the [Mage Hand] suppressed everybody. Nobody could move.

  They could only watch as the [Mage Hand] descended slowly onto Pip.

  Pip screamed: 'Impossible.'

  The hand landed on him and Pip simply deteriorated, turning into dust and being blown away by the wind.

  'Is he dead?' audience members whispered among themselves.

  Crestfall looked stunned. 'Why? I didn't even get a chance to intervene.'

  The Thorne family elder stepped forward quick on his feet, addressing the crowd. 'Pip infiltrated our city with evil intentions. He nearly killed several of our citizens. His crimes were unforgivable, and he deserved to be punished.'

  I activated my [Dragon Sight], focusing on a spot several kilometres away. Another [Mage Hand] reached out, smaller and more precise, plucking something from the air.

  It was a tiny figure, no larger than a fist—a soul, an old man's spirit that had been hiding within Pip.

  Turns out I was wrong again,I thought with a mental sigh. 'This wasn't the main character but a villain attempting to infiltrate the city.

  With a casual gesture, I crushed the soul with the [Mage Hand], extinguishing its existence completely.

  Luneth, who had been hiding in the shadows nearby, appeared. 'Wait, that's the soul of an [A-Class] expert,' she protested. 'If refined, you could make potions with half the normal effort.'

  'Didn't you say you weren't going to make potions anymore?' I countered.

  Luneth pretended not to hear, her gaze still lingering on the spot where the soul had been.

  A thought occurred to me as I watched her. Emberfist had been cultivating a technique based on mine. So she had an OP technique.

  She came from a noble family and left to prove herself. Good start to MC story.

  She had an invincible 'Guardian' in me. Another OP advantage.

  Didn't she sound more like a main character than Pip had been?

  The audience members remained stunned. 'Did the [S-Class] interfere?' they whispered among themselves. 'How strong could he be?'

  'Lord Shadow is here.'

  Little Shadow chirped proudly on my shoulder, as if taking credit for my intervention.

  ***

  Back at the Gilded Hearth, Tavalor settled into my usual spot by the window, a newspaper spread before me. Little Shadow lounged nearby, occasionally darting to steal crumbs from my muffin.

  Had Tavalor not attended the tournament, Tavalor would never have learned about Pip and the malevolent spirit possessing him.

  It was a fortunate coincidence that He'd decided to spectate.

  Tavalor's eyes scanned the headlines:

  'CHITARI ATTACKING SOUTHERN CONTINENT.'

  The article detailed how the insect-like invaders from another world had launched a massive offensive.

  Oh, they're attacking the South now, I mused, taking a sip of my enchanted brew. I must have scared them off.

  The last time they had been here, they had started off attacking north.

  It would have been a better tactical decision. Excluding the wastelands, the North was bigger and full of lush forests.

  It was more deserted. Only a few cities and mostly just empty forests. A better territory to take over and absorb nutrients from.

  The southern continent in comparison was a desert. Only a few sections of territory fertile enough to provide food and water.

  Fought over by three of the most savage and deadly groups. The Saltash Confederacy, the Obsidian Caliphate and the nomadic clans of the Shimmerwind Desert.

  According to the report, the Chitari had already destroyed many oases and desert cities, declaring war on the Southern Continent.

  The Desert Confederacy of Zaltash, the Obsidian Caliphate, and the nomads of the Shimmerwind Desert had all allied to fight back.

  That was alarming. The three groups never stopped fighting amongst themselves. Yet they had now.

  Twenty cities had fallen, several clans of the Shimmerwind Desert obliterated. The battles were intense; the Confederacy of Zaltash had been completely overrun.

  Now the Chitari were marching toward the capital city of the Obsidian Caliphate. Somehow, they had grown in strength, now fielding four factions instead of the previous two, each led by [A-Class] warriors. They even possessed a special [S-Class] cannon.

  Panic had spread across the continent. Would the Chitari conquer the entire South?

  The other global powers had decided to ally against this threat. After all, they had expelled these creatures several hundred years earlier.

  The elves had dispatched another fleet, arriving swiftly to kill one of the [A-Class] leaders and damage a cannon. Their actions had made them extremely popular in the South.

  Following the elves came the Imperium of Solaris and the Jade Court, both sending armies to the South—an opportunity to expand their influence and make a name for themselves.

  Various cultivators from different sects—the Baseball Clan, hidden clans, and numerous unaffiliated experts—all joined the fray.

  Looks like I don't have to do anything. Tavalor thought with relief. He continued to sip his coffee.

  Little Shadow chirped, questioning my relaxed state.

  Just in case though. Tavalor thought to himself. He sent out a [Dragon Eye] to observe the southern situation.

  It never hurt to be informed, especially when it came to potential threats that might eventually reach Vallenport.

  As Tavalor settled back in his chair,hecouldn't help but smile.

  For once, the world's problems were someone else's responsibility. Tavalor had a peaceful café, a manor, and a strange little shadow companion. For now, that was enough.

  Little Shadow finished the last crumb of Tavalor's muffin and curled up contentedly on the table, its violet eyes closing as it basked in the warm sunlight streaming through the window.