The Legendary Mage (Alavin) novel Chapter 65

Mariela, veiled to hide her stunning ethereal beauty, cast a glance over the arena and made her way to an elevated corner. She gave a simple nod to Celesse upon the dueling stage as a greeting, paying no mind to the astonished and admiring gazes and murmurs of the crowd as she stood quietly.

She was like a blooming white rose, not only exuding a chill but also a sense of purity and otherworldliness.

"Celesse and Mariela, two beauties vying for the spotlight, such a rare sight indeed."

"Today's a feast for the eyes."

"Celesse is here for Alavin, but why has Mariela come?"

"Why bother with such questions? We have a contest to watch and beauties to admire. What a day!"

The stir caused by Mariela's arrival lasted for quite a while, and just as the excitement seemed to be settling down, a special individual arrived at the scene.

Roald! The Golden Protégé, the wielder of the golden sword!

"Why's he here? Is Alavin's challenge worthy of his attention?" Nikulas, an Elite Protégé with a brawny stature and an unsightly face, but an aura wild and untamed like a standing beast, cast a cold glance towards Roald, who approached the tenth arena and snorted disdainfully.

"Heh, he doesn't care about Alavin's fight. He's just here to see how Alavin meets his end," Myke said with a smile as he approached Nikulas. This graceful and beautiful gentleman, effeminate yet exuding an oppressive aura, practiced the rare art of the Illusory Blade to near perfection, a match for few among the powerful Elite Protégés.

Roald, with his masculine handsomeness and brood gaze, stood out starkly. In the hearts of the Cobalt Strike Protégés, the name Roald carried immense weight, a genius among geniuses, one in a thousand. The status of Golden Protégé was his highest honor.

Both male and female Protégés held him in awe. When someone's talent and achievements far surpassed one's own, envy gave way to admiration and respect.

Roald ignored the commotion of the arena and stood stoically at the edge, waiting for the event to begin, though his gaze occasionally softened when he looked at Celesse.

Aloof by nature, he rarely mingled with others. Of the hundreds, even thousands of Protégés in the arena, none dared speak to him or stand in his way, leaving an open path to the dueling stage for his convenience.