A Novel Concept - A death a day, MC will live anyway!-Chapter 390: Betrothal

“I’ll never get used to this sunless sky,” Jasmine grumbled, setting her drink down on a cracked tile. Ten other empty mugs already littered the surface, a testament to the hours-long revelry.

Priam lifted his gaze to the Necromoon’s pallid glow, sighed, and drained his own tankard in one swift pull. “Never tasted a brew this vile,” he muttered, wincing.

“That’s no beer,” Blueberry said with a sly grin. “It’s Chewhan piss. Local delicacy.”

“You’re jesting.”

“Not a bit. Those bubbles? Straight from the beast’s gut fumes.”

“I’m off to retch,” Jasmine announced, half-rising with mock theatrics.

Laughter erupted, a bright spark in the gloom, as Priam poured himself a glass of water to scour the taste from his tongue.

“No more alcohol?” Louis asked, one eyebrow arched. “This might be our last chance to savor the Snaherts’ peculiar brews, and if we don’t hurry, they’ll be gone.”

Priam glanced down at the square below. The Oasis team was perched on a rooftop overlooking the main plaza, right above several half-drained barrels of wine. And yet, the night was still young.

“They’re drinking hard tonight,” he noted. “Not that I blame them.”

“It’s almost over, isn’t it?”

“In less than two days, one of the two remaining clans will have no future left,” Priam confirmed. “We’ve already secured four points. My win against Gold Fangs locks in at least one more. All it takes is for Arnold or me to win a single match, and one tribe will be handed over to the Necromoon.”

“After the show you put on today, I doubt anyone’s betting on your loss,” Louis said with a faint smile, before turning serious. “Without the elves’ help… one of the tribes dies, right?”

“No question.”

For weeks now, Priam had developed the habit of constantly scanning the aether within his Domain. The goal was to turn [Ideal Aether Perception] into something as close to a passive as possible. Like an instinctive skill. Thanks to the exercise, he could sense that the necrotic corruption in the air had increased by a few percentage points since their arrival two days prior. Thus, every time his body drew in ambient aether—after using a skill, for example—it also absorbed a sliver of the curse. The amounts were still infinitesimal, but over the course of several months, it might be enough to turn him into a necro thrall. And it must be far worse for a Tier 4 who expends massive amounts of energy…

“I’ve been thinking,” said Louis, stroking his beard, “We’ve already got Log-a-rhythm. Why not sell off the land title we’ll likely win? Getting rich off a good deed: nothing better than that.”

Priam sighed. “Log and the Sun Shop won’t be enough to keep us clean.”

“You sure? Another branch of the Sun Shop will open once you’re a Prince,” the old man pointed out.

“And when will that be? I’m sure I could take down a low-ranked Prince soon, but I’d still have to find one.” Priam shook his head. “Without better rituals, we’re dead within the year, and I’m not gambling our future on luck. We win this tournament, secure recognition from the Empire, evolve [Land Owner], and then we can protect Oasis. The path’s clear. If that dooms a tribe... so be it,” he said, locking eyes with Louis. The old man gave a slow nod.

“The System will likely give us another opportunity during the Second Reunion,” Kazuki interjected. “The Concepts wouldn’t have placed us here without a path through the necro event.”

Priam raised an eyebrow. “You want to save the tribes? Who are you, and what have you done with Kazuki?”

The hoplite gave a cold smile. “Their elites are a threat and must die. I’m merely pointing out that our rivals won’t go quietly. They’re resilient.”

“So are the clans,” added Blueberry, watching the crowd soak itself in revelry. “Yesterday, this square was covered in corpses. Today, they’re partying like nothing happened. They’re not going down without a fight. If you ask me, things are about to go to shit.”

“Don’t raise flags, dude!”

“Is it just me, or are the Gaeserts thinning out?”

Jasmine’s remark jolted Priam. As he scanned the celebration, a movement caught his attention. A regal Aelbe had climbed onto the banquet’s main table. Nudging aside a platter of sausages and a few glasses with his foot, Léo turned to face the gathered throng. His Aura bloomed outward, instantly silencing those too drunk to register his presence. Even wounded by Ophis, the tiger-like Aelbe remained dangerous.

The Transcendent’s cold smile sliced through the silence.

“Aelbes! Gaeserts! Snaherts… Members of Oasis. I interrupt your festivities to deliver good news.”

With a wave of his hand, he gestured to the end of the table. Rohan stood there, impassive. Beside him was Esmée, head bowed, her face adorned with tribal paint. Just behind, Gold Fangs was standing like a bodyguard. Upon seeing Priam, he averted his gaze, trembling under the Juggernaut’s stare. Defeated.

“The engagement of my son Rohan to the Empyrean Princess. Their union will seal an alliance between two ancient factions—”

The air screamed. Wood groaned. The Transcendent looked down at a still-vibrating spear now buried halfway into the table he had chosen as a platform.

“Is this a declaration of war?” he asked quietly into the silence blanketing the square.

Kazuki rose. “You’re grasping for a reason to break the tournament’s truce, when all this is just a hoplite custom.”

“Meaning?”

“That this marriage will not draw its first breath until I draw my last.”

“Intere—”

A second spear joined the first. The table collapsed beneath him, and the Tier 4 jumped lightly to the ground, avoiding a fall.

“A human custom, this time?”

The Champion didn’t reply, his throat tight with seething rage. He was clenching his fists so hard his nails dug into his flesh. A few drops of blood tinted his skin before falling to the ground.

Stolen story; please report.

“Priam,” Rohan began, only to fall silent under the weight of his father’s gaze. He gripped Esmée’s hand, and that simple gesture ignited the Juggernaut’s rage.

His draconic heart began to slow. Each beat thundered with enough force to send kinetic ripples outward, waves of power that trembled the air around him, forming terrible halos.

Someone said something. Priam didn’t hear. Blood roared in his ears. A hand touched his shoulder—he shrugged it off. He couldn’t have said why he was so angry, but one thing was certain: he was furious.

His bloodline responded, and his mistwoven tunic ignited in fire. A pair of solid wings unfurled from his back. With a single beat, he teleported to the center of the square and seized Promesse.

“No,” said the Juggernaut.

Barely two meters away, the Transcendent raised an eyebrow. “I expected Kazuki to object to our clan emigrating to Proxima. But you? I took you for a more... flexible Champion. Unless the bride’s identity troubles you?”

The Juggernaut raised his arm. Heroic Aura, Micro, Spear Mastery, and [Kinetic Sovereignty] merged into [Hoplite Slash] to create an attack fit to move mountains.

Léo caught Promesse between thumb and forefinger.

In the background, the hero noted a twitch on the Transcendent’s face, plus the flicker of an Aura. His casual demeanor was a façade; he hadn’t fully recovered from his duel with Ophis. Still, he was strong.

“You’d oppose this marriage... physically?”

The rage didn’t blind Priam to the obvious bait. Whether Kazuki or he struck first didn’t matter; Léo just needed one of them to take the swing to legally retaliate with disproportionate force.

Understanding didn’t mean acceptance. The Juggernaut knew the gulf of power between him and the Transcendent—but he hurt, and he wanted to hurt.

Roaring, he launched into a devastating combo. Drawing upon every ounce of his Spear Mastery, he overclocked his muscles to the point of rupture, eroding his own meridians with floods of kinetic force. He unleashed a storm of strikes, a deadly barrage. The air screamed. Trenches ripped open across the square. Buildings collapsed under the shockwaves.

Ten seconds later, the onslaught hadn’t so much as brushed the Transcendent. Like an agile tiger, Léo danced through the blows, toying with his prey. Then he struck back.

Lvl Up: [Sun Steel Body] lvl 32

CONST +6

META (Endurance) +3

The world was flipped upside down. Sky below, earth above. Something hard halted Priam’s flight, knocking the breath from his lungs.

He blinked, then looked up. Knightmare met his gaze, the mech extending a metallic hand.

“Thanks, bro,” Priam muttered, letting his friend pull him to his feet.

“Anytime. So? You back with us?” asked Kazuki.

“Mmh. Still pissed, though. Any word from the nukes?”

“Nothing.”

“No more hostages,” came Léo’s voice. Fifty meters away, the Transcendent was inspecting his nails. “The hunt is over, and the prey has two choices: fight and die, or run.”

“Run?”

“Mmh. I’d rather not spend the next few months waiting for your Shadow to strike.” As he spoke, Priam realized Jasmine had vanished. The assassin had slipped away, aware she was the wild card keeping the Transcendent cautious. “Swear to stay out of Proxima, and I’ll let you walk.”

Priam exhaled. “So you really are leaving… even if you win the tournament?”

“Sooner or later, the Necromoon will win. My clan will survive.”

“At the cost of an entire generation. Are your adults ready to give up the System?” Priam pressed.

“It beats becoming puppets of some Depth’s experiment.”

“That’ll leave you vulnerable,” Kazuki pointed out. “Before you settle in, you’ll purge any potential threat.”

Leo didn’t deny it. “I’ll give you two months to move your civilizations to Elysium. Or wherever.” A fang flashed. “I’m growing tired of this negotiation. Your answer?”

Priam’s gaze shifted past the Transcendent. Behind a tense Rohan stood Esmée, biting her lip.

“Don’t die like an idiot,” a feminine voice echoed in his mind.

Two eyes of mist met two of gold. “Why not?”

“I vouch that the Aelbes will not strike a single blow against your race or Kazuki’s. Proxima will never fall to them.”

“No, I mean… why don’t you want me dead?” He gave a wry smile. “You barely know me.”

“…You made me smile. No one’s ever done that before. After everything… I want to smile again.”

Something clenched deep in Priam’s chest. He wanted to see her smile too. “You’re going to marry him?”

“A temporary marriage. He’ll protect me from Aydan.”

“….”

“Please,” whispered the young woman’s lips.

For one suspended second, Priam took her in. A face sculpted into artificial perfection: plump lips, elegantly drawn brows, a delicate nose, and eyes blazing with rare intelligence. A breathtaking princess whose hand he had turned down only months before. A woman who chased her dreams with a ferocity to match his own. Perhaps even more.

He had no right to judge her choices. No right to stand in her way. It wasn’t his life.

And yet, even as he lost a woman he had never truly had, someone he barely knew, his heart rebelled. Not the draconic one, bound to a possessive bloodline. The human one, rich with one stubborn quality.

“I want to love without regrets,” said Priam. A pause. “To dream without compromise,” finished the Juggernaut.

Esmée closed her eyes, even as Leo bared another fang.

“Kazu—”

“Save your breath. Together?”

Priam smiled. “Together.” Unfurling his wings, he launched into the sky.

Below, Kazuki leapt. The two Champions converged on Léo at once. The hammer and the anvil striking in unison.

Status:

PHYSICAL:

Strength 1 253

Constitution 2 114 (+8)

Agility 1 652

Vitality 2 099 (+7)

Perception 990

MENTAL:

Vivacity (D) 666

Dexterity 983

Memory 1 152

Willpower 1 298

Charisma 996

META:

Meta-affinity (O) 1 405

Meta-focus 886

𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Meta-endurance 1 601 (+5)

Meta-perception 861

Meta-chance 1 089

Meta-authority 784

Potential: 33 714 (+3)

Tier 0

[Tribulation]: Five Tribulations pending.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 1 200 / 3 attributes > 1 800 / 1 attribute > 2 400