The atmosphere was electric as the Annual Festival prepared to kick off. In the hallowed halls of the prestigious Academy, anticipation ran high as each class geared up for a fierce battle. The ultimate prize, a substantial cash reward, beckoned to the contestants, though Ben had his sights set on a military position, a personal aspiration overshadowed momentarily by the allure of wealth.
The blaring horns, though valiant, paled in comparison to the thunderous cheers echoing throughout the newly constructed arena. Colourful streamers and confetti danced in the air, casting an almost magical hue over the exuberant crowd.
A moment of gravity descended as a procession entered the arena - the formidable White Dragon group, under the resolute leadership of the renowned Sophisas. They maintained a facade of unwavering professionalism, their calm demeanour standing as a stark contrast to the jubilant onlookers. This aura changed when the second group made their entrance.
Silence fell like a velvet shroud as the King and his guards graced the arena. The guards, encased in gleaming golden armour that glistened under the myriad of lights, exuded an imposing presence with their piercing gazes. The King, harbouring a warm smile, stood amidst a protective circle of these formidable guards while the White Dragon group paid their respects in reverence. As the guards dispersed along the length of the grand staircase, the King ascended to his throne, a majestic masterpiece adorned with intricate markings and symbols.
With a gracious gesture, the young King beckoned Sophisas to commence the tournament, signifying the beginning of the Kingdom Cup Tournament. "Please, may the academy representatives enter the arena!" proclaimed Sophisas, inciting another wave of fervour in the crowd. Speculations abounded, and debates ran rife among the spectators regarding the likely victor - Swordsmanship or Magic class, with a lingering memory of the Close Combat class's near triumph in the previous year.
Class by class, they emerged into the spotlight:
First, the Magic class emerged, with their teacher Aisi floating atop an enlarged magic sphere. Rennes maintained an air of neutrality while several students soared on broomsticks, and one daredevil rode an inexplicable feline steed. The crowd erupted with adulation, mostly directed at Rennes, who was perceived as the strongest contender, although the truth would soon unveil a different story.
Next, the Swordsmanship class made their grand entrance, led by the formidable Dorona. Isabella walked in, arms crossed, and Bluri sauntered with a conceited grin, followed closely by his acolytes. The crowd was not only in awe of a potential royal candidate but also captivated by Isabella's beauty.
Sophisas, sharing a private moment with Isabella, offered a whispered instruction, "Izzy, don't hold back this time." Isabella acknowledged with a nod, a hand gracefully placed on her shoulder.
Class after class followed suit:
The Close Combat Class.
The Archery Class.
The Refinery Class.
The Pastoral Class.
The Druid Class.
However, in the depths of the tunnel, Modo grappled with anxiety, his discomfort in the spotlight palpable. Ben, ever the reassuring presence, offered a comforting hand on Modo's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about a thing out there, just do what you do best," Ben assured, snapping Modo out of his reverie.
Modo's newfound confidence infused the entire class, and Mr. Martin couldn't help but smile as they rallied together, ready to face the upcoming Tournament. Yet, amid this camaraderie, Ben couldn't ignore the colossal figure of a man standing beside a chef in the distance.
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