AESVM Chapter 77
Kiss Me
The fourth match began.
Dressed in black, Celestian placed his sword hand over his left chest, then slashed the air in a crisp, fluid motion before bowing. It was the perfect, formal salute of a knight—etiquette executed with flawless precision.
The middle-aged knight hesitated for a brief moment before letting out a hearty laugh. Then, as if to return the gesture, he mirrored Celestian’s bow.
Watching the exchange, Daphne almost let out a gasp of admiration—but she bit down on her lip instead.
Why are they showing such courtesy in what’s essentially an elegant bar fight?
Oh, right. He used to be a prince…
Since Celestian had already fought multiple rounds, the arena had been altered to increase the challenge. Obstacles had been added—stone tables, scattered pebbles, and elevated mounds of sand.
“He’s practically performing a ritual to jinx himself.”
“You want him to lose that badly?”
Marius responded casually to her muttering.
Daphne shook her head violently, as if to say, Of course not!
Celestian and the older knight switched positions.
As a result, Daphne now had a perfect view of Celestian’s face.
Whether it was from the alcohol or the adrenaline rush of consecutive victories, Celestian looked almost childishly elated.
His green eyes gleamed—like tiny Christmas lights flickering to life.
Annoying.
Daphne clenched her fists, but it didn’t matter.
The prince and the knight brought their swords together, tilting the blades downward until they touched.
A sharp, steely whisper rang through the silent arena.
****
So far, none of Celestian’s opponents had even managed to get close to him. But this seasoned, middle-aged knight was clearly on a different level.
The clash of their swords echoed repeatedly, metal scraping against metal. Sparks even flew from their blades when they collided.
The fight was so intense, so unrelenting, that the audience had gone completely silent, their hands clenched tightly as they watched.
Do they know each other?
Daphne wondered.
Unlike his previous matches—where he had simply subdued his opponents—this time, Celestian was truly engaging in a duel.
“Ah!”
Daphne let out a startled gasp as Celestian took a hard blow to the head with the flat of the knight’s sword. The sound was loud enough that if the blade had been sharp, his skull might have been split open.
The knight didn’t miss his chance—his eyes flashed as he slashed upward from Celestian’s left side.
Celestian frowned, stepping back fully for the first time. A crimson stain seeped through the tear in his black combat attire. The blade had cut cleanly along the path it traveled.
Who the hell asked for a bloodbath?
Daphne froze.
At least it didn’t seem like a deep wound—Celestian showed no visible reaction to the pain.
“I did ask for it…”
“Hm?”
Marius tilted his head.
Daphne quickly shook her head as if it were nothing.
She had casually muttered earlier that Celestian’s fight was too easy—and now, of course, it had come true.
Celestian’s expression relaxed slightly as he shot Daphne a quick glance.
Now’s really not the time to be looking at me, idiot.
Every time he turned her way, heat surged up Daphne’s face. Whether from alcohol or frustration, her head was starting to spin. She cleared her throat loudly.
The knight, noticing Celestian’s momentary distraction, shouted at him to focus before charging forward again.
The man leapt at him, his longsword poised to strike Celestian’s torso once more.
But before the blade could make contact—
Celestian slid low to the ground, sweeping the knight’s ankle out from under him.
And before the man could recover, Celestian fluidly rose, slashing across his opponent’s back.
The second spray of blood sent the audience into a frenzy.
By now, everyone was completely drunk and reveling in the spectacle—Daphne included.
Even as he staggered from the cut across his back, the knight refused to surrender, struggling to get back on his feet.
He attempted to regain his stance—but suddenly wobbled, his balance completely off.
Celestian patiently waited as the man glanced down at his own leg, examining the damage.
Then, after a moment of hesitation, the knight grinned and threw up his hands.
“I yield!”
A knight never forfeits. Not even in the face of death.
Was he giving up too easily?
“Is it because of the kick?”
Daphne tilted her head.
She had seen Celestian strike the knight’s leg—but it had happened in the blink of an eye, and there hadn’t been any sound suggesting a fracture.
“He broke his tibia.”
“…His shin? But he’s a knight, shouldn’t he be tougher than that?”
“It’s better than being crippled for life.”
Marius explained gently.
The knight limped toward the stands, taking his wife’s hand before pressing a kiss to her knuckles—then pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss.
The murmurs in the audience quickly turned into wild cheers.
Blood trickled down his tanned back, tracing the deep diagonal gash across his muscles.
Daphne winced.
It must have hurt—but his thick, solid build kept the wound from bleeding too profusely.
Celestian, too, was watching the knight and his wife intently.
****
Daphne fanned herself with her hand, trying to cool down.
Marius had long since abandoned his jacket, draping it over the railing.
Hot. Humid. Loud.
This is so much fun!
The entire arena had turned into a full-blown festival.
As far as Daphne remembered, Kisha had once won five consecutive matches in the past.
But Celestian had already surpassed that.
He had just secured his eighth victory.
And with that, he received his fourth glass of alcohol.
Unlike before—when he had grimaced at the mere thought of drinking—he now tossed it back without hesitation.
The green hue in his eyes had softened, as if completely clouded by intoxication.
Winning more matches wouldn’t be a problem.
Now, it was just a matter of how long he could withstand the effects of the alcohol.
Daphne leaned her elbow against the railing, grinning lazily.
For every match Celestian had won, she had matched him drink for drink.
In fact, she was probably two shots ahead of him.
The arena workers stepped in to smooth out the disturbed dirt floor.
Celestian let out a deep sigh before heading toward her.
If he were as drunk as she was, his vision should have been spinning—but his steps remained perfectly steady.
“Hey, Daphne.”
“You reek of alcohol.”
“So do you.”
His expression was still flushed with excitement.
Eight wins, deafening cheers, rolling around in the dirt…
And yet, his beautiful face still beamed with amusement.
Daphne couldn’t help but laugh along.
Then, suddenly—Celestian bent forward and tapped the side of his mouth twice with his finger.
Daphne blinked her golden eyes.
Is he asking for… a slap?
But his head was tilted too deliberately—too invitingly—for it to be a request for a reality check.
Daphne tilted her head in confusion.
“…Are you drunk?”
“Maybe…”
Celestian tapped his cheek again.
“Cel, isn’t winning all the time getting boring?”
“……”
“If you’re that drunk, just forfeit and go home.”
At her blunt suggestion, Celestian’s expression darkened.
The crowd, now fully invested in whatever was happening between them, erupted into chants.
Kiss! Kiss!
Daphne frowned.
What do they think this is, a baseball stadium?
“…Would you only do it if I lose?”
“…Huh?”
Daphne’s mind flashed back to the middle-aged knight and his wife.
Then—to the vague, drunken things Celestian had mumbled before while lying in bed.
For the love of—if you’re going to get drunk, at least be subtle about it.
But… Daphne wasn’t exactly sober, either.
Her mind and body weren’t in sync.
Her gaze landed on her earring—still dangling from his ear, glittering under the arena lights.
The mood… the atmosphere…
With the air of someone bestowing a great favor, Daphne reached out and cupped his chin with her gloved hand.
A quick peck on the cheek wouldn’t be hard.
She had done it once before, after all.
Somewhere deep down, she even felt the urge to show her gratitude.
Maybe, on Sunday, she’d make a hefty donation in Celestian Theriosa’s name.
Just as she leaned in—
Thump.
A hand pushed against Celestian’s face.
“…Huh?”
Marius.
Without hesitation, he had shoved Celestian away.
Having been completely off guard, Celestian lost his balance and fell flat onto his backside.
His black battle attire, already torn at the side, was now thoroughly dust-covered.
Celestian remained on the ground for a moment, blinking up at Daphne.
Since all eyes had already been on them, the sight of the fallen prince sent the audience into another fit of laughter.
Even Marius chuckled to himself.
But Daphne—Daphne alone did not laugh.
Her face had gone completely red.
Why am I suddenly so hot?
She quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be deeply fascinated by the arena’s ceiling.
****
“At this rate, Grand Duke Theriosa will claim a perfect victory!”
Adam’s way of addressing him had shifted.
No longer Phantom Grand Duke—now, he was Grand Duke Theriosa.
It was no exaggeration to say that every spectator had bet their name beneath his.
Among the common folk, he might soon be called The Man of Unbroken Victory, the Prince of Total Triumph!
“And now…”
Adam cleared his throat.
“In response to an anonymous sponsorship request, we will be changing the rules for the final match. Just in time—our next contestant is entering. Introducing… Iglios!”
Boom. Boom.
“…Are those footsteps?”
Someone behind Daphne spoke in a dazed voice.
“Did they let a rhino in or something?”
Another person chimed in.
And true to their words, the approaching footsteps sounded almost like the beating of war drums.
The man who stepped into the arena was a giant, well over two meters tall, his skin a deep bronze.
His sheer size made it look as if he were twice Celestian’s build, though that might have been a slight exaggeration.
An Argentar? A Libian?
Daphne scrutinized Iglios’s hair—it was stark white, almost unnaturally so, like it had been bleached.
“He’s just as massive as the rumors said.”
“If this were a fighting game, one punch from him would be instant death.”
“But still, isn’t the Grand Duke at an advantage? Swordplay favors speed, after all.”
After a moment of intimidation, the spectators reassured themselves—Celestian would still win.
But then—
“You must place your sword behind your opponent. You may retrieve and use it only after completely subduing them.”
Daphne stiffened at the abrupt rule change.
“As many of you know, today’s final contestants are criminals who have committed unforgivable acts in the history of Secradion. Therefore…”
Daphne’s gaze snapped toward Amber Green, who was still seated in the VIP section.
Their eyes met.
Her mother… simply smiled.
Then, in an eerily solemn tone, Adam uttered a chilling declaration—
“The one who survives will be the final champion.”
