The Lycan King's Hideous Mage

I stand in the center of the arena, surrounded by dozens of other competitors. I close my eyes and reminisce about the feeling of standing in this exact same spot four years ago. Back when I was gullible and oblivious to the world. However, now, I don't feel the same jitters and excitement. No more sense of anticipation and trepidation.

I open my eyes. On the banners, on the stage in front of us, are the written words 'Luna Festival Competition', the same contest that will decide who will be the next Luna for the Lycan King of Dunkerson.

Then the announcer's voice booms out from the loudspeakers, which echoes across the arena.

"Welcome, audience, judges, and competitors, to the Luna Festival! This year's competition will be even more spectacular than four years ago! You will be tested in every aspect of your knowledge and skills, from the warrior's arena to the alchemist's laboratory. But before we begin, let us remember why we are having this contest: to earn the right to be the next Luna who will stand alongside our very dashing Lycan King Gideon Dunkerson!"

I snort at that. I glance at the empty chair on the stage. No Lycan King is present. He doesn't care, just like four years ago. In fact, he hates this competition. It makes him seem lacking as the Lycan King.

"Now, without further ado, let the competition begin!"

As the announcer's words echo around the arena, a roar rises from the crowd. They are excited to replace their previous Luna, hoping they won't get the same plain-looking Luna. I smirk. They are in for a massive disappointment.

The sound of a gong reverberates, and I watch the other competitors form an orderly line in front of the stage where everyone will have the chance to be interviewed. I follow suit. When it's my turn together with the other nine participants, I step forward. I am determined to win, just like four years ago.

"Ah, Hera, the woman from the Liddicoat Kingdom," the announcer greets. "We heard you will take Dunkerson citizenship if ever you win?"

"Yes," I say. "I am hoping to win this competition."

"Like all the other competitors!" he exclaims. I nod, and the announcer continues, "You are pretty. Are you sure you are not running away from some ex-lover?"

"I am not escaping from anyone," I answer. I may have chosen a pretty face that is far from how I really look like. However, it makes me confident. I want to look pretty, even if it's fake and only for a short time.

And so, the announcer continues to talk to the other participants. Since there are hundreds of competitors, they want to take out ninety percent of the participants during the first challenge.

"Should we start the first challenge?" The announcer says, allowing the audience anticipation to build.

I glance at Lady Marinella Dunkerson, Gideon's mother, the closest I had to a friend inside the castle walls. However, blood still runs thicker for her, and she chose her son over defending me, even if she knew that her son was the one at fault.

"Oh, this is an interesting challenge."

I shift my attention to the audience. I can feel the tension in the air as the crowd holds their breath, wanting to hear what the first test will be.

Finally, the announcer continues, "The first challenge will be to construct any magical tool using only the materials provided."

A gate opens on the side of the arena, and a servant appears, pushing a cart of different items. It's Caius' doing. He ensured that there will be a task of tool invention. That way, people will feel like I am the same hopeful Serra. I fake a smile. Right now, there's no need to hope. I am certain I will win not just this part of the competition, but the entirety of it.

"This challenge falls under the previous Luna's set of skills," the announcer remarks as the items to create different magical tools are being organized. "To ensure that the one fated to win this competition will continue what the previous Luna has been doing before."

I stop myself from snorting. He meant when I was being taken advantage of?

And then, the announcer booms, "Good luck, and may the best competitor win!"

The crowd erupts in applause again. I rush to the center of the arena and grab various materials on the ground. Sitting on the side, I block out the noise and excitement of the crowd.

My mind runs through all the details of the design. This is already well-planned, and I will see it through. So, I work quickly and efficiently. A few months back, I already repeated this design over and over.

After half an hour, I had already created a small, intricate magical device that searches for people within a limited radius. To demonstrate, the announcer gives out a name that the tool should search. I push my magic into its small hole, and it hums.

"Oh wow! That is amazing!" The announcer praises. "Congratulations, Hera! You have successfully completed the first challenge in record time!"

I smile and make it seem as awkward as possible. Caius says I need to show vulnerability. These people don't want a steadfast, unfeeling, unsmiling, not-so-feminine Luna, just like I was back then.

And then my smile suddenly vanishes. On the stage, my husband, Gideon, is making his way toward his appointed seat. Lady Marinella points at me, and Gideon's eyes fall on me. However, instead of the flirty look that he reserves for all beautiful women, he glowers at me-even if I'm wearing the prettiest glamour that I could ever conjure.

My stomach twists, and I clutch it. As he continues to stare, I unconsciously touch my cheeks, as if checking if my glamour is still there. Realizing the action, I slide my hand to touch the side of my neck instead.

And when I stare back at him, I feel so small. Under his gaze, the feeling of insecurity still persists in my chest. I feel so lacking, trash, hideous. Someone who has nothing else, but her magic. Someone who cannot be loved, no matter how much effort I put in to compensate for my plainness.

And so, to hide the pain, I bow my head to him and hide my face. I turn around, hoping that when I meet him in close proximity, I will be able to calm myself and not attack him in anger.