Ziros muttered, "Why do I suddenly feel like this woman... resembles Alavin so much?"
Nelsor sighed, "They're cut from the same cloth!"
The distant crowd of onlookers, however, was thrilled by the spectacle, cheering for more.
After some discussion, the Organizations’ Commanders bestowed upon Eyla the title—Blood Elf!
And so, the grand tournament of The Clash of Eight Orders had concluded, and the Top 5 Protégés had been named. Their titles echoed through the Northlands.
The Stellar Precepts’ 'Twilight Guardian,' Darron.
Bloodlore’s 'Blood Elf,' Eyla.
The Earthbound Spirits’ 'Relentless Warhawk,' Orland.
The Stellar Precepts’ 'Violet Flame,’ Jackar.
Cobalt Strike’s, 'Shadowlord's Messenger,' Alavin.
The elite five had been proclaimed, and from this day forth, their names would be heralded across the Northlands.
In every organization, Protégés applauded and cheered, and yet many remained in silence.
Was it over? The four tumultuous days had passed so swiftly! Over seventy fierce battles had been fought, taking down so many strong fighters without mercy or opportunity. Defeat meant the end.
It was that brutal!
This was what the Eight Orders intended with the tournament, to teach these self-proclaimed geniuses that reigning supreme within their own organization did not guarantee fame in the Eight Orders, to humble their pride, and to them see themselves clearly. When they returned to their organizations, they would practice diligently and grow earnestly.
"It's over..." Roald's feelings were complex. His long-awaited chance for glory had slipped away. He felt like a mere background, noticed by the organizations before the contest but lacking any standout performance during it.
“I am Cobalt Strike's Golden Protégé, a peer to the prodigious Celesse, and the captain of this year's Cobalt Strike team. Why has it come to this? Are the other organization's Protégés too strong, or am I too weak?” Roald thought.
Semar, Felis, and others had mixed emotions as they looked up to the top four and thought of Alavin, staying silent.
Were they feeling slighted? Honestly, a bit. Not by the top four, but by Alavin.
Why Alavin? It could have been anyone else, but why him?
...
In the manor, Nikulas and Balder tended to the wounds of Alavin and Cedrick. They didn’t hurry to leave, choosing instead to stay and keep the two company.
Balder sat in a wicker chair in the room, gauging the time. "It must be about over, right? I wonder who made it to the top five this year."
Mariela watched the slumbering Alavin in silence.
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