Chaos Heir - Chapter 856: Tragedy

856 Tragedy

The battles in the metal arena continued, interrupted only by occasional spectacles that acted as breaks and promoted the tournament’s rewards. Some announcements were purely scientific, but the wealthy parties knew enough about the topic to understand its appeal.

As for the contestants, the majority was average. Everyone was hungry for fame and glory, but the reality of the situation was quite depressing. Those descendants had ambition and drive but lacked the talent, training, and techniques to shine.

Of course, a few exceptions had popped out, but the tournament had just begun, so no major party tried to hire anyone. That was bound to change, but more descendants had to be eliminated first.

Despite the lack of significant events, everyone seemed to enjoy the tournament. The lower families loved the free exposure, especially when the nobles were part of the audience. The chance to seize precious resources and items also fueled their excitement.

That was unavoidable since Khan’s faction had spared no effort in preparing appealing rewards. They involved the supplement, Khan’s defensive magic item, high-grade equipment from the noble armories, complete scholarships for the Harbor, and more. Each article was priceless, especially in the eyes of a lower family, and having to win Khan’s tournament to obtain them only increased their value.

As for the wealthier families, the tournament offered a priceless political environment, allowing them to establish new social connections and business ventures. Sharing that space with the nobles made its value skyrocket, pleasing even those not sitting in the towers.

Khan was the only one who failed to enjoy himself in that general enjoyment. The marriage inquiries had taken long to quiet down, but the guests at his side always brought up more problematic topics. Monica supported him, but the friendly atmosphere occasionally turned her into a teasing enemy.

Luckily, Tlexicpalli was too busy watching the fights to engage in more discussions with the Thilku. The Scalqa also behaved properly, with Ni-Kri occasionally surprising everyone with his decent human accent.

Nevertheless, Alexander remained the oddest of the bunch. He didn’t speak much and only limited himself to calm and neutral comments when addressed. His interest also seemed to focus on the battles, but Khan saw past his façade. Still, what he discovered wasn’t exactly bad.

As much as the situation annoyed Khan, the terrace’s guests respected him enough to keep things friendly. Some were even genuinely trying to build a proper relationship with Khan, while others had become more than acquaintances long ago.

Monica also fitted perfectly in that scene, alternating between teasing Khan and supporting him depending on the inquiry. She was enjoying herself, and Khan played along since spoiling her was more important than his annoyance.

Overall, the scene was happy, happier than anything Alexander had witnessed in years. Not long ago, his faction was divided, weak, and on the verge of infighting, with his children and grandchildren on the frontlines. He didn’t even dare hope for a peaceful resolution, but there he was.

The bickering wasn’t mean. The discussion often ended up in laughs, and the teasing hid silent conversation only those inside them could hear. Things weren’t perfect, but the scene still warmed Alexander’s heart. He saw a thriving and influential family capable of earning respect from parties that would have despised it only a few years ago. Alexander saw hope embodied in a man who was the spitting image of his lost daughter.

Khan didn’t like making his Grandfather happy. Part of him still resented him for leaving his father and him in the Slums. Khan also hated his weakness and general exhaustion, especially since those efforts didn’t go toward those who truly needed them. Yet, he let that slide. After all, Alexander’s joy was only a side effect of the whole situation.

“Oh, it’s time for Lord Vegner’s spectacle,” Monica announced when another break happened and strippers filled the metal floor under her.

“His business must be booming here,” Princess Montares commented, “And I heard he is a big fan of Prince Khan.”

“Pandora joined this quadrant a few months ago,” Khan revealed. “It should spread to the whole planet soon.”

“Why the whole planet?” Prince Kodwa asked. “It is my understanding most quadrants only have factories, refineries, and similar buildings.”

“Which are owned by my friends,” Khan stated. “They must have the means to hold suitable meetings if they wish to.”

“It seems we had to become your friends sooner,” Princess Saintilon exclaimed.

“Yes,” Khan confirmed. “You had to.”

The cold answer wasn’t proper in that environment, but Khan had uttered it anyway. He would never let the nobles forget that they hesitated to offer support. Khan would still treat them as allies, but friendship was something entirely different for him.

“Dear,” Monica called, switching to her supportive mood, “Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

Khan almost smiled at Monica’s request, but a better idea popped into his mind, and he didn’t hesitate to voice it. “Of course. I’ll watch Lord Vegner’s spectacle attentively.”

Monica initially smiled, but peeking at the battlefield below froze her expression. She had temporarily forgotten what the spectacle entailed, and noticing the sensual strippers soon gave birth to a glare. The spectacle had more decorum than the brothels, and men also occupied the metal floor, but Monica knew what Khan meant.

An elbow landed on Khan’s side, and Monica gasped when she realized what she had done. The couple had engaged in light and private interactions during the battles, but everything had remained hidden. However, everyone saw her blow now.

The two Lords couldn’t contain their laughter and lifted their glasses to summon the waiters. Lord Rsi even broke his political character by repeatedly slamming his huge hand on Khan’s shoulder. The throne shook under those blows, but Khan felt the friendliness behind them.

“[Blue Shaman, you weren’t joking],” Lord Rsi exclaimed. “[You would have gotten your cape earlier if you told me]!”

“That’s a scene the network hasn’t reported in a while,” Princess Montares commented. “I thought the engagement had tamed you.”

Embarrassment tried to overwhelm Monica, but the firm hand that pulled her waist closer dispersed it. Khan reminded her that he was at her side, working as a united front behind the same trench, and her role was to act proud.

“I’m limiting myself in public,” Monica explained, half-pouting at Khan. “It’s another story in bed.”

Lord Rsi seemed unable to stop laughing, and his hand kept slamming on Khan’s shoulder. His blows were so heavy that Khan had to plant his legs on the floor to preserve the throne.

The representatives also let out knowing chuckles. Monica had refrained from those vulgar comments lately, especially among guests who were more relevant than her. However, many already treated her as a married woman, allowing her certain liberties.

Truth be told, Monica just realized that point now. The recent period had been a mess of meetings, business ventures, and more meetings. No one had the time to understand how far Khan’s influence had affected those allies. The friendly situation had never presented itself, either, but the matter was undeniable now.

Khan felt pleased sensing Monica’s mood improving, but the hammer slamming on his shoulder moved his focus elsewhere. Both Lords were at least tipsy, and the same went for Tlexicpalli. Khan was getting there, leaving only the representatives and Scalqa completely sober.

The matter couldn’t be helped. Even fifth-level warriors had limits to their tolerance, and Khan had prepared booze suitable for their strength. Moreover, the tournament had already gone on for over half a day, and the Thilku Lords had treated it as a [Festival], refilling their bowls and drinks whenever they emptied them.

The Ef’i drank in general, and Tlexicpalli had almost seen the Lords’ bottomless thirst as a challenge. As for Khan, he was the middle ground between those species, so he had played along.

Usually, getting drunk in those political situations wasn’t ideal, but the matter played into the celebratory mood. Besides, Khan knew none of the guests would lose control of themselves. Actually, he enjoyed that looser environment.

However, timing had often been against Khan, and the universe never stopped throwing meteorites at him. His phone started buzzing, but he ignored it. Still, the representatives, Alexander, and Monica soon experienced the same event, and it didn’t take long for someone to check their device.

Prince Duter was the first to ignore decorum and check his phone. The message’s contents killed any enjoyment he had experienced until now, and an ominous feeling spread throughout the terrace when he lifted his head to whisper barely audible words. “Prince Khan.”

The representatives didn’t need heightened senses to understand something terrible had happened. Prince Duter’s tone said it all. Still, Khan also saw his feelings, and his hand slowly reached into his pelt to retrieve his phone.

Monica peeked at Khan’s screen, and her eyes went wide. She looked at him, her mouth opening to say words her throat refused to release. She even reached for his face, but he carefully lifted her while leaving the throne.

“I apologize,” Khan announced. “I must leave.”

Theoretically, nothing in the entire world could justify Khan’s departure. Yet, no questions flew toward him. His words had been polite, but his aura told a different story. His presence reeked of pure anger and killing intent, which he seemed ready to unleash on the first guest who tried to stop him.

Even the proud Lord Rsi didn’t say anything. The sudden change in Khan’s aura had sobered him up, explaining the seriousness of the situation. He only nodded as if approving Khan’s departure.

Monica opened her mouth again, but Khan sealed it with a single line. “Preside in my absence.”

Khan disappeared after those words, leaving confused guests who promptly drew their phones. Everything became clear after checking the news, and their eyes fell on Monica, who looked at the sky in worry while the message resounded in her mind.

‘Bret has died,’ Monica thought, wishing she could fly after Khan.