SSS-Class Overlord: My Harem Rules the Realms (18+)
Chapter 40: First Match.

Chapter 40: First Match.

The sky above Duskwatch was ablaze with sunrise as the Dark Mage Tower’s carriage rolled

through towering gates into the Imperial Arcane Arena—a colossal structure that seemed to float

upon shimmering currents of magic.

Its outer walls were formed of gleaming white stone interlaced with veins of glimmering silver runes. Tall arches soared overhead, inscribed with sigils that pulsed faintly like a giant beating heart. Floating crystalline orbs cast shifting patterns of colored light across the pale marble floors.

Inside, stands rose in spiraling tiers around an enormous central arena. Thousands of seats were

already filling with spectators in fine robes, murmuring in eager anticipation.

Banners of every Tower—scarlet for Fire, pale blue for Ice, emerald for Earth, gold for Wind, oceanic teal for Water, and inky black for the Dark Tower—fluttered in invisible currents of magic high above the arena.

A palpable tension thrummed through the air, as if the entire coliseum were holding its breath. The

very atmosphere seemed charged with mana.

The Dark Mage Tower squad entered through a great obsidian archway. Velexaria led them, her

dark robes flowing like living shadow.

Behind her strode Kaeron, his arms folded, and Lysena, who cast wary glances at rival tower teams already gathering on the opposite sides of the arena floor. Ethan followed at the rear, eyes sharp, soaking in every detail.

As they stepped into view, scattered murmurs rose from the stands. Some curious. Others

dismissive.

Arrival of the Other Towers

The Fire Tower contingent swaggered in next, a blaze of crimson robes and sizzling heat. At their

forefront strode Seraphine Blazegale, her violet eyes cool and watchful, and beside her, the

hulking Dragan, his broad chest bare under sleeveless crimson robes, veins bulging with barely

restrained power.

From the opposite gate glided the Ice Tower mages, led by Sirel Frostwind, a young man with

frost-white hair and pale eyes like glacier ice, flanked by disciples whose very breath steamed in

the warm morning air.

Earth Tower arrived soon after, with Galen Stonewarden at their center—a sturdy young man with

sun-browned skin, arms wrapped in enchanted stone bracers, eyes keen and calculating.

The Wind Tower team swept in next, robes swirling like stormclouds. At their head was Lyra

Windspun, a lithe young woman with wind-tousled silver hair, eyes sharp as a hawk’s.

Finally, Water Tower entered, shimmering in robes of ocean teal. Renn Clearwater led them—a

calm-looking mage whose eyes rippled like a tidepool, calm but harboring hidden depths.

Barbed Exchanges

As the six Tower contingents assembled around the arena, the Tower Masters themselves took

their places along a semi-circular balcony high above the fighting floor. Each master stood like a

monarch surveying a battlefield.

Inferax Blazegale, Fire Tower’s massive master, crossed his arms and let out a booming laugh.

"Well, look who’s crawled out of the shadows. Velexaria Duskvale! Here to lose again like every

year, huh?"

A ripple of snickering rolled through the Fire Tower ranks. Dragan guffawed so loudly it echoed off

the marble walls.

Sirel Frostwind from the Ice Tower smirked faintly, frost glinting on his lashes. "Perhaps the Dark

Tower has finally realized illusions of grandeur are still illusions."

Galen Stonewarden of Earth Tower folded his arms, his voice low and mocking. "Hope your

shadows don’t vanish under real pressure."

Lyra Windspun chimed in, lips curled in a mischievous grin. "Better keep your boy close,

Velexaria. He might get lost in the light."

Renn Clearwater gave only a small, polite smile, but his words carried an edge. "Or drowned by

real power."

Velexaria’s eyes narrowed, shadows coiling tighter around her like a living cloak. Her lips parted

as if to deliver a scathing retort—

But a hand gently touched her shoulder.

Ethan’s Intervention

Ethan stepped forward, face unreadable, voice low enough for only Velexaria to hear.

"Let them talk, Tower Master," he murmured. "I’ll handle it later. On the battlefield."

Velexaria blinked, her anger checked for a moment. Then a small, dangerous smile curved her

lips.

"Very well, Ethan Graves," she whispered back. "I’m putting all my bets on you."

The Empire Official Announces the Matches

A hush fell as the Empire Official strode into the center of the arena floor—a man in silver and

midnight-blue robes, an imperial crest glittering at his throat. His voice boomed magically across

the stands:

"Welcome, towers of the Empire, to the Imperial Arcane Tournament. As decreed, this contest

shall determine which tower’s new generation stands strongest."

He swept his gaze across all present. "The matches for Round One have been decided."

He raised a scroll, reading the names:

- Dark Tower vs. Fire Tower

- Ice Tower vs. Water Tower

- Wind Tower vs. Earth Tower

Murmurs erupted among the crowd.

"And for the first match of the day," the official continued, "representing the Dark Mage Tower...

Ethan Graves. And from the Fire Mage Tower... Dragan Blazegale."

A roar exploded from the stands as Dragan cracked his knuckles and lumbered forward, a wide

grin splitting his face.

Into the Arena

Ethan stepped into the center of the glowing arena floor. Velexaria, Kaeron, and Lysena stood just

behind the force barrier separating combatants from spectators.

Across from him, Dragan approached, his massive arms gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat,

heat radiating off him in waves.

Dragan looked Ethan up and down and scoffed. "Hah! You ain’t even got muscles. You look like a

twig. Are you sure you’re not here to sweep the arena floor?"

A ripple of laughter came from the Fire Tower seats.

Ethan’s face remained an emotionless mask. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and didn’t

say a word.

Dragan sneered. "What? Cat got your tongue, Shadow Boy?"

Still nothing. Ethan’s eyes were locked on Dragan’s, utterly cold, unreadable.

The Match Begins

High above, the Empire Official lifted his staff.

"BEGIN!"

A wave of golden magic pulsed outward. The sigils on the arena floor flared to life, enclosing

Ethan and Dragan in a blazing circle of shifting runes.

Dragan roared, mana flaring like wildfire around his fists.

Ethan narrowed his eyes, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet, the shadows already

gathering around him.

The first clash of the Imperial Tournament had begun.

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