My Girlfriends Are Hardcore Yanderes - Chapter 186

Chapter 186: Seeded Part 3
Lizana paused, her lips curving into a faint smile. She did not turn to face them, but her voice, soft yet clear, reached their ears.

“Ash… you walk with me.” She used his alias.

The others froze in place, their gazes snapping between Asher and Lizana, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. To walk side by side with the Arcane Great Sage—especially one of her stature—was a privilege few could even dream of.

It wasn’t just an invitation; it was a gesture of equality, of treating him as one of her own, on par with her power and influence.

To the other sorcerers, it felt as though their egos were being intentionally crushed. Their pride, built over years of training in the finest academies, seemed to crumble in the wake of Lizana’s gesture.

They had been taught that the hierarchy of power was rigid and unchangeable, that those from Eryx’s finest schools were at the top, and outsiders… were just that—outsiders.

The wolfkin—already on edge—couldn’t take it anymore. His claws dug into his palms as he stepped forward, eyes burning with frustration.

His fur bristled with a mixture of disbelief and fury, and the air around him cracked with tension, almost as though it could ignite any moment.

“Enough !” He raised his hand, blocking Asher’s path. “Don’t you dare…”

Asher sighed heavily. All this drama was a hassle. He wasn’t interested in playing the role of some antagonist in their twisted little power struggle.

“I’m just following her orders,” he explained, his tone devoid of emotion.

He glanced at Lizana, whose serene expression never wavered. It was clear she wasn’t bothered by the tension.

To her, this was nothing more than a minor distraction. In fact, her eyes glinted, showing interest and a bit of satisfaction.

The wolfkin, visibly seething, seemed to be on the verge of losing his composure.

“If you want to prove her wrong, then beat me in the tournament. She’s just messing with you all, and I can’t believe that you’re playing right into her hands.” Asher shook his head in disappointment.

They were too egotistical and prideful for their own good, lost in their own delusions of superiority.

“Whatever, I’ll just kill you in the tournament ,” The wolfkin muttered under his breath, frustrated but unwilling to escalate things further.

“You should value your life more,” Asher sighed, his tone blunt as he walked past them and moved to stand beside the Great Sage.

“You…” The wolfkin was going to lunge at him, but he was stopped by his companions. They grabbed his arms, holding him back with a firm grip.

She giggled softly, as though she found the entire situation amusing, and began conversing with Asher as if they were close.

“After you win the tournament, how about you work for me?” she offered casually, her tone clear and confident, showing just how sure she was of his victory.

She didn’t even bother to lower her voice, making sure everyone could hear her.

The other sorcerers froze at her words, some of them visibly flinching. To them, it was more than just a proposal—it was a declaration.

Asher glanced at her, his expression unreadable because of the mask.

“I’ll think about it,” he answered in a nonchalant voice.

He wasn’t trying to rile anyone up or show off. He was just answering honestly.

But to the others, it felt like yet another insult that, despite all their effort and status, they were being overshadowed by someone who didn’t even belong here.

They vowed to do everything in their power to kill him in the tournament.

The silence stretched on behind them, broken only by the soft echo of their footsteps as they continued down the hall.

Lizana’s smile widened at his response, pleased with how things were unfolding.

After walking for a while, they finally arrived at a large door in the basement.

She reached out and opened it without a word.

The door creaked loudly, and the group stepped into a small, round chamber.

It was quiet, with strange glowing runes on the floor and walls.

When the door shut behind them, the ground suddenly vibrated.

The floor beneath them started to lower, like an elevator, sending a low rumble through the chamber.

Asher’s curiosity grew. Where were they going? What was happening?

Finally, from the bottom floor, light seeped in as they descended into the arena.

The feeling of being enclosed vanished, and they found themselves standing on a platform that offered a sweeping view of everything.

High stone walls surrounded them, towering and imposing, their surfaces etched with ancient runes that reflected light.

The stands stretched upwards, packed with a sea of spectators—at least 500,000 strong—coming from Eryx and far beyond, from distant lands across the world.

They erupted into cheers as soon as they saw the seeded group.

A voice boomed from the center of the arena, cutting through the noise of the crowd.

It belonged to a bearkin, his round face a mix of jovial and comical, with a pair of bronze sunglasses perched atop his nose.

He was standing near a large podium, holding some kind of artifact that amplified his voice.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” he shouted, his voice carrying his energy. “Let me present to you the seeded participants—the best of the best, the brightest of the brightest this place could offer!”

The crowd cheered even louder, their excitement only growing.

The announcer’s voice rang out again.

“These participants have proven themselves worthy of this moment. Their skill, their power—it’s unmatched. ”

“Will they defeat all their opponents as expected? Or will an underdog rise from the ranks of the normal participants?”

As he spoke, he swept his arm toward the far side of the arena, where around a hundred other participants stood.

These were the ones who had passed the many grueling tests to get here—those who had fought their way through trial after trial, believing that today would be their time to shine.

But now, the spotlight wasn’t on them. It was on the so-called “seeded participants,” .

The ones who didn’t have to endure the same hardships they had.

Many of the normal participants clenched their fists, their teeth gritting as they glanced over at the so-called elites.

They might not be from Eryx, but they were still sorcerers, considered the most powerful in their respective areas, so they have their own pride.

A young lionkin with messy brown hair and a scar across his cheek muttered aloud.

“We fought for this spot. They just show themselves and get all the glory.”

His words were met with nods of agreement from the others, a shared sense of frustration.

And who could blame them? The tournament hadn’t started yet, and they were already being psychologically massacred.

What was worse was that Eryx had only sent these seeded participants to compete, showing just how confident they were in winning.

While the tension in the air continue to grew, one particular bearkin, his fur ruffled and his posture less assertive than the others, hesitated before speaking up.

“Well, we are outsiders, so it’s already expected that they’re biased against us,”

A few glanced at him, considering his words. Slowly, the anger died down a little.

As long as all outsiders were treated the same, then it wasn’t that embarrassing.