SSS-Class Overlord: My Harem Rules the Realms (18+)
Chapter 44: The Finnal battle?

Chapter 44: The Finnal battle?

The echo of the crowd’s roaring faded gradually as the Empire official stepped back into the

center of the arena, his golden cloak fluttering like a regal banner. The crystal sphere floating

beside him pulsed with soft blue light, amplifying his voice until it rolled across the marble

terraces and into every corner of the coliseum.

"Competitors and masters of the Six Towers," he declared, his voice crisp and resonant, "the

quarterfinals are hereby concluded. Tomorrow, the semi-finals will resume at precisely noon. All

contestants are to be present and prepared at the Imperial Arcane Arena."

A ripple of chatter spread through the gathered crowds. Teams began to regroup, some huddled

around injured fighters, others already talking tactics. Healers in flowing white robes weaved

between competitors, mending wounds and dispelling lingering magical effects.

Velexaria, her expression cool as ever, turned on her heel. Her black and silver robe swept behind

her like a silken tide. "Come on," she ordered sharply. "We’re done here for tonight. There’s work

to do."

Kaeron clapped Ethan on the back as they began walking. "You see Renn’s trident go flying? Hah!

I’d pay good coin to watch him fish it out of the stands."

Lysena rolled her eyes, shaking her silver hair off her shoulder. "You’d better hope you don’t end

up facing ice boy, Kaeron. I don’t feel like defrosting you."

Ethan grinned, only half listening, his mind still replaying the high-speed dance of magic between

Sirel and Renn. "Honestly, I’d like a crack at both of them," he said.

Lysena snorted. "Bold talk for a guy who got flattened by Dragan five times."

"Hey," Ethan protested, scowling. "That was for a quest, alright?"

Velexaria glanced over her shoulder. "Enough bickering. Eyes forward. Other teams are watching."

Indeed, as they passed through the vast marble corridors that spiraled out from the arena’s heart,

disciples from the other towers tracked them with pointed gazes.

The Fire Tower’s contingent lounged against a row of decorative columns, Seraphine perched like

a red-clad hawk on one of the plinths. She gave Ethan a cold, assessing look, her lips curving into

a faint smirk as she whispered something to her teammates. Dragan, still pale and bandaged,

huffed as he leaned against the wall, clearly still bitter about being one-shotted into

unconsciousness.

Near the archway to the eastern wing, the Earth Tower disciples loitered in a cluster of brown and

green cloaks. Galen, the Earth Tower’s prodigy, eyed Ethan coolly and muttered, "He won’t last

two minutes against Wind Tower’s Lyra."

Ethan ignored them all, shoulders squared, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

The Dark Mage Tower finally reached their quarters, tucked away in one of the sprawling towers

near the arena’s outer rim. Inside, soft candlelight flickered along walls etched with ancient runes,

the air carrying the faint tang of incense and old parchment.

Ethan immediately flung himself backwards onto one of the massive four-poster beds, sighing as

the mattress creaked beneath him. "Gods, my spine is still rattling from Dragan’s slams," he

groaned.

Kaeron crashed down onto a bed beside him, arms stretched overhead. "You’ll be fine. You’ve

survived worse."

Lysena perched on the edge of the table, swinging one booted foot, and leaned forward. "So...

Ethan. What’s your plan if you have to fight Wind Tower’s Lyra? She’s fast. Real fast."

Velexaria stepped forward, folding her arms, shadows flickering across her pale face. Her violet

eyes glowed softly. "She’s right. The match between Ice and Water ended in a draw. The winner

who steps forward from the next fight could very well be Lyra from Wind Tower. What’s your

plan?"

For a moment, silence hung in the chamber. Ethan propped himself up on his elbows, a playful

gleam in his eye. He turned his head just slightly, eyes flicking toward a shimmering screen only

he could see.

"I’ve got... a nice plan," he said, a grin slowly stretching across his face.

Velexaria arched one elegant eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

Ethan waved her off. "Nope. Not yet. Just... trust me."

Kaeron let out a bark of laughter. "Trust you? Gods, that’s how we ended up getting scolded in

the library for exploding half a bookshelf."

Lysena pointed a warning finger at Ethan. "If you blow up anything this time, I’m letting Velexaria

handle you. And she’s scarier than any tournament."

Velexaria’s lips twitched upward, the barest hint of a sly, almost conspiratorial smirk. "Very well.

We’ll trust you. For now." She sighed, tension easing from her shoulders. "But you understand,

Graves... our entire Tower’s reputation is riding on your back now."

Ethan gave her a playful salute. "No pressure."

A rap came at the door. An apprentice slipped in, bowing low. "Tower Master Velexaria... the

result is in. Wind Tower won the deciding match."

Kaeron whooped so loudly the windows rattled. "Ha! I called it!"

Lysena crossed her arms. "Great. So we’re up against Wind Tower and Miss Light-Speed Lyra."

Ethan simply grinned. "I’m on my way to win the league, guys."

Kaeron gave him a solid punch on the arm. "That’s the spirit!"

Even Lysena couldn’t hide a small smile. "Just... try not to get half your limbs broken before the

finals."

Velexaria, meanwhile, let out a resigned exhale and muttered under her breath, "All you, kid. All

our reputation depends on you."

Ethan stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Don’t worry. I’ve got this."

He stood up, brushing off his dark cloak. A faint flicker of excitement danced in his amber eyes as

he strode toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Velexaria demanded.

"To the arena," Ethan said simply.

Velexaria blinked. "Now? They’re not starting until tomorrow."

Ethan’s grin widened. "Just... feels right, you know?"

Kaeron whooped again. "Get ’em, champ!"

Lysena rolled her eyes but finally said, "Fine. Go make your dramatic entrance."

Outside the Dark Mage quarters, a chill breeze swept the floating city, carrying the glow of arcane

lanterns across the bridges that spanned between the towers.

Ethan strode forward, cloak fluttering behind him, eyes fixed ahead. Every step rang sharp against

the marble tiles as he passed under archways inscribed with glowing runes. The murmur of other

teams fell away, all eyes following him as he approached the colossal gates of the Imperial Arcane

Arena.

The guards stepped aside, wordlessly opening the bronze doors. A thunderous hush seemed to

fall over the arena itself, as though it held its breath.

Ethan ascended the wide staircase leading into the inner sanctum. Arcane lights spiraled around

him like shooting stars, illuminating his silhouette against the towering entrance.

He reached the top step.

And just as his foot hovered over the final rise, ready to enter the arena’s light...

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