Gon's Harem System
Chapter 194: A quick attack

Chapter 194: A quick attack

His father’s tall, lean frame was impossible to ignore, even from this distance.

He cut an imposing figure, his posture straight and commanding as he sat at the center of the royal box.

His long, jet-black ponytail shimmered under the bright sunlight, catching the light with every subtle movement, a dark contrast to the gleaming surroundings.

His presence seemed to draw the very attention of the arena, a quiet force that commanded respect.

Even from this far, Gon could feel his father’s aura, a cold, calculating intensity that was impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t just the way he carried himself, but the sheer weight of his reputation that seemed to radiate outward, pulling the eyes of everyone around him, whether they dared to meet his gaze or not.

Beside him, Gon’s mother sat with a composure that was as graceful as it was effortless

She was a picture of elegance, her serene expression betraying no hint of tension or worry despite the chaos unfolding around them.

Her sapphire gown, rich in color, draped gracefully over her slender frame, soft and fluid against the harsh, angular lines of her husband’s presence.

The fabric shimmered slightly in the light, a quiet contrast to the harshness of the arena.

Her calm, poised demeanor was a stark reminder of the world she inhabited, a world that didn’t need to raise its voice to be heard.

Her eyes, calm and steady, followed the tournament with quiet attention, her only movement the subtle shifting of her hands in her lap, as though the noise of the crowd and the heat of the moment could never touch her.

It was an image of perfect balance, a steady anchor beside the formidable storm that was her husband.

Together, they were a study in contrasts, his father’s sharp, almost intimidating presence paired with his mother’s quiet grace.

The king, short in stature with his thinning, greying hair, leaned slightly forward in his seat, his aged hands resting lightly on the armrests as he whispered something to the Duke and Duchess of Hanan.

His face, though worn by time, still carried the sharpness of a ruler, his eyes calculating as they flicked between his two noble companions.

Despite his height, he commanded attention simply by the air of authority that surrounded him.

His voice, low and measured, barely reached Gon’s ears from where he stood, but he could see the way his parents nodded in agreement, their silent acknowledgment of the king’s words sharp and deliberate.

Gon’s stomach churned, a twisted mix of pride and pressure coiling within him.

His family, seated so regally in the royal box, was a symbol of the legacy he was expected to uphold.

He tore his eyes away from the royal box, shaking off the weight of his family’s gaze.

With a sharp intake of breath, Gon steadied himself, forcing his mind to focus.

The swirling thoughts in his head began to settle as he took a moment to ground himself, drawing in the scent of the arena, sweat, dust, and the faint tang of magic hanging in the air.

He exhaled slowly, letting the tension slip from his shoulders.

The deafening roar of the crowd faded into a dull, distant hum, the noise sinking into the background as Gon’s attention snapped forward.

His eyes narrowed, locking onto the mages around him.

The noise of the spectators seemed to melt away entirely as his focus sharpened, the world around him narrowing to just these opponents, their postures, their stances, the way they shifted on their feet.

Every movement, every twitch of their muscles became a potential clue.

The announcer’s voice sliced through the deafening roar of the crowd, a low, almost languid drone that seemed at odds with the excitement surrounding him.

His words, heavy with disinterest, rang out across the arena: "Let the battle begin!"

The sound was flat, as though he were reciting a line from memory, without any true engagement.

He took a slow step back, his sagging form retreating from the center of the arena, leaving the spotlight behind.

In an instant, the crowd erupted with a force that rattled the very stands beneath Gon’s feet.

The cheers thundered like a tidal wave, so loud that the sound seemed to tremble in the air itself, the roar crashing down upon them like a living thing.

The noise reverberated through the stone walls and the bleachers, shaking the very ground Gon stood on, as if the entire arena was alive and breathing in anticipation.

Dust kicked up in the air, swirling like a living thing as the 24 mages exploded into action.

The arena, once still, now seemed to vibrate with the intensity of the fight.

Spells crackled like lightning, arcing through the air, while weapons flashed in the sunlight, blades gleaming with deadly intent.

The sand beneath their feet shifted and settled, disturbed by the rapid movement of so many combatants, the sound of magic sizzling and clashing almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd.

Gon’s senses were overwhelmed, every corner of his vision filled with chaotic motion, but before he could fully register the full scope of the battle, one mage broke through the frenzy, charging directly at him.

The mage’s movements were fast, too fast.

He gripped nothing but a short stick, but there was a purpose in his eyes, a deadly determination that made the simple weapon seem like a lethal instrument in his hands.

The boy stood out among the chaos of the battlefield, his appearance striking and unusual.

His hair was a vibrant pink, cut chin-length in a sharp bob that bounced with every quick stride he took, a bright splash of color against the gritty sand and the dull browns and grays of the arena.

His face was sharp, angular, with a focused intensity in his eyes that made it clear he was no mere novice.

His gaze never wavered from Gon, a fierce determination that spoke volumes despite his lack of words.

Though the boy wasn’t tall, he moved with a speed that belied his stature.

His legs carried him swiftly, closing the gap between them with startling precision.

Within mere moments, he had closed the distance, his presence now looming before Gon with a sharpness that caught him off guard.

The air around him seemed to hum with purpose, each step calculated, each motion purposeful.