Temple of the Demon Lord of Wishes-Chapter 80: Heading to Regionals

According to the basic geography books Ivaim had read, Vallgorath was an expansive continent, vast enough to make one wonder if there were others like it beyond the horizon.

No evidence of other continents existed, at least none that Ivaim had come across in his reading.

Vallgorath itself was divided into several regions, each dotted with towns and villages, all unique in culture and purpose.

The town of Fendral, where Ivaim currently resided, was one of the smaller but liveliest settlements in the region.

Despite its size, Fendral had carved a niche for itself as a hub of resourceful traders, where markets brimmed with exotic goods brought in from other towns.

The streets were always alive with the chatter of merchants, the clinking of coins, and the hum of life that gave Fendral its distinct charm.

The region that Fendral belonged to was home to 12 other notable towns, each unique in its culture and strengths. Stay updated via novelbuddy

In fact, every one of Vallgorath’s seven regions consisted of 13 qualified towns—settlements deemed significant enough to host their own local town arenas.

These arenas served as stages for intense competitions, where the strongest, most skilled individuals battled to represent their town and, eventually, their region in the Coliseum of Champions.

Beyond the region that Fendral was in lay six others, each with their own collection of remarkable towns.

To the east was the region of Aerlynth, dominated by windswept plains and vast skies. It was home to towns renowned for its masterful archers.

Leviam, a place where airship pilots and navigators trained to tame the skies.

To the south stretched the sun-scorched expanse of the Eryndra region, known for its fiery landscapes and resilient towns stayed in, towns built around an active volcano and famed for its fire-wielding combatants.

And Duskridge, a desert settlement that thrived under the leadership of resourceful scavengers.

’I forgot to read about the last two regions...’ Ivaim sighed.

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Each region held its own cluster of towns, and the competition between them was fierce. The stakes were high.

Every region in Vallgorath hosted its own preliminary tournament, where towns would compete to select a single representative.

Fighters, champions, and strategists poured their hearts into these matches, hoping to claim victory for their town and secure their place as the region’s champion.

This wasn’t just about personal glory; it was a matter of pride and honor for the entire town.

Once a winner was crowned in each region, these champions would advance to the ultimate stage: the Coliseum of Champions.

The Coliseum stood as Vallgorath’s most revered arena, a grand structure where the best of the best clashed in a battle for supremacy.

Here, the chosen representatives of each region would fight not only for glory but also for the favor of Vallgorath’s rulers and the adoration of its people.

Ivaim sighed as he leaned against the window of the carriage, his gaze wandering over the passing scenery.

The dirt road stretched endlessly ahead, flanked by rolling fields of tall golden grass swaying in the gentle breeze.

Beyond that, a dense forest loomed, its dark canopy dappling the afternoon sun as it spilled through the trees.

Occasionally, small farmhouses dotted the landscape, their smoke curling lazily into the air.

Somewhere in the distance, a flock of birds took flight, scattering like a dark inkblot against the pale blue sky.

’I already told Grandma Neli I’d be out for a while,’ he thought, absently tracing the edge of the window with his finger.

’Said I found a trace of my so-called "family." She didn’t say much... but I’m sure she’s already heard about my victory in the local town arena.’

The thought made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He leaned back, letting the gentle jostle of the carriage lull his thoughts.

’That’s probably why she’s been a bit cold to me lately,’ he mused, staring at the clouds above.

The carriage rumbled along the dirt path, heading toward Eldwen, a town renowned for its scholars and mages.

Across from Ivaim sat two familiar faces: Mayor Halvin, a stern yet thoughtful man in his late fifties, and Tharos, Fendral’s ever-enthusiastic blacksmith.

Tharos leaned forward, his broad shoulders barely fitting in the cramped carriage.

His soot-stained hands rested on his knees, though his restless energy made it clear he was itching to move.

"Since the Regional Arena is gonna be held in Elthram, there’ll be plenty of places for combat there. That town’s the richest in this whole region. I’ve heard their training facilities are top-notch," Tharos said, his deep voice booming in the small space.

Mayor Halvin nodded, his expression calm but calculating.

"It’s true. Elthram has resources the rest of us can only dream of. If there’s a place to make a name for yourself, it’s there."

Tharos didn’t wait for Halvin to continue before jumping back into the conversation.

"Speaking of making a name, Ivaim, you need to test the equipment I made for you before the Regional Arena. Can’t have you heading in there without knowing how it handles."

His voice grew more animated, and his hands moved in exaggerated gestures as he spoke.

"I reinforced the blade with mithril plating, you see. Makes it light but tough. Perfect for quick strikes. Oh, and the grip! The leather is treated with an oil blend that keeps it from slipping, even if your hands are sweaty. Not that I’m saying you’d sweat under pressure, of course," he added with a quick laugh, oblivious to the look of mild amusement on Ivaim’s face.

"And the armor! Don’t get me started on the armor." He leaned back, crossing his arms proudly.

"Layered steel plates for maximum durability, but I made sure they’re flexible at the joints so you won’t feel like you’re waddling around. The inner lining? Silk. High-grade. Helps with comfort and airflow. Can’t have you overheating mid-battle."

’Ah, he’s being overenthusiastic again...’ Ivaim thought as his lips twitched.

Ivaim nodded politely, though the endless stream of details was starting to blur together.

"Oh! And the shield," Tharos continued, his eyes lighting up.

"Special alloy. It’s not just for blocking, mind you—it’s balanced just right for throwing if you ever need to. Took me three weeks to perfect the weight distribution. Three weeks! I even tested it myself—nearly broke a window in the shop when it rebounded wrong, but hey, that’s how you refine craftsmanship!"

Mayor Halvin finally interjected, raising a hand to calm Tharos’ enthusiastic ramble.

"Tharos, I’m sure the boy gets it. He’ll test the equipment."