Chương 161: Chapter 160: The Treaty of Honor's Transfer

Several weeks later, after negotiations, regulatory review, guild votes, and sponsor bids, the Grand Hall of COEX Convention Center in Seoul blazed under crystal chandeliers and international camera lenses. THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE! Representatives from participating guilds, Associations, governments, and sponsors filled the hall as Lucian and Eleanor stepped onto the red carpet together, walking toward the central signing podium.

Lucian wore a bespoke black suit, the glowing snow-rose pin fixed to his chest; Eleanor wore an elegant pure-white vest trimmed in gold, carrying a stack of documents bearing the royal seal. On the screen behind the podium, the restructuring framework carried its filing number and the name the press had already given it: the Treaty of Honor — the instrument that moved inter-guild prestige competition off the killing floor and into a regulated arena.

Lucian stepped up to the podium, adjusted the magitech microphone, and spoke to the people watching the broadcast.

"To the entire Hunter community, and to the people of the world." He held up his tablet, displaying a new opt-in international league framework.

"The bloody wars fought inside dungeons may be ending. But that does not mean humanity's fighting spirit, or the fire of martial pride, has to be extinguished with them." Lucian tapped through to the next slide on the massive LED screen.

"Vance Earth Holdings, in partnership with White Tiger Martial Arts Association, Titan Corporation, participating guilds and licensed public authorities, is founding: the GLOBAL MANA LEAGUE (GML)." Lucian announced the charter, clear and commanding.

"Young Hunters should not have to risk their lives crawling into dark caves to get torn apart by monsters. All 1v1, 3v3, and 5v5 matches will be held on magical arenas with certified redundant barriers, emergency medical systems, and regulated safety rules. Prize pools will be funded through disclosed sponsorships, ticketing, broadcast rights, and regional league agreements.

Every match will broadcast live on 8K platforms worldwide, backed by energy-drink sponsorships, advertising deals, and commercial ticket sales." Lucian looked straight into the camera.

"Step onto the arena. Show off your finest swordwork, your most brilliant magic — become a global sports superstar and earn millions under rules designed to make competition safer!" The reaction was neither unanimous nor quiet. In White Tiger's training hall the students stopped watching the broadcast entirely and started arguing over who was getting the third slot on a 3v3 roster. A Seoul academy group chat went from forty messages an hour to four thousand the moment the prize structure hit the screen.

A retired C-Rank in Busan rang the hotline to ask whether coaching licenses were a real thing or a press release. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. In the third row of the press section, an Association safety officer wrote a single question on her notepad and underlined it twice: who certifies the barriers? Rustle. Eleanor, standing beside Lucian on the podium, gave him a light nudge with her elbow.

She tilted her head, blue eyes sparkling with a teasing smile.

"You just turned a lot of competitive people into an advertising and ticket-sales money-printer, Chairman Vance." Lucian took a slow sip of mineral water, smiling.

"Turning war into sport was the greatest invention of my previous life, my lady." Ting! Ting! Ting! The dim black panel of Unified System V2. 0 burst open in front of him: [PILOT INSTITUTIONAL TRANSITION LOGGED.] [MILESTONE TITLE REGISTERED:] → 'ARCHITECT OF NEW ERA' (LV. 1)! [NOTE:] ● The title recognizes a verified international pilot milestone. ● Institutional outcomes remain under observation. Clack. Clack.

From the wings on either side, Old Master Baek Ho-San in his pure-white hanbok and Chairman Thomas Hale in an elegant black suit stepped out together toward the center of the stage. The two veterans lifted a solid-gold trophy — a full meter tall, the Trophy of Origin — and placed it formally into Lucian Vance's hands before the assembled delegates. Five-colored magical fireworks burst across the sky inside the hall, applause rolling like thunder. In the front row of honor, Evelyn sat with her tablet in her lap.

Her thumb stopped mid-scroll. On her tablet, a secure observatory feed began flashing a dark-red signal over the Arctic ice region of Northern Europe: [ENVIRONMENTAL WARNING: ARCTIC MANA-FLOW ANOMALY DETECTED] ● Northern European observatories report altered dungeon pressure and ecological stress around recently changed Gate-clearing routes. ● Cause: under investigation.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes at the red warning, then quickly snapped her tablet shut and looked up at Lucian, still holding the golden trophy high amid the crowd's cheers.... At that same moment, in a roadside pojangmacha tent tucked down a dark, quiet alley on the outskirts of Seoul. A light drizzle fell against the tent's old, faded orange plastic sheeting. A middle-aged man in a tattered wool coat, his face crisscrossed with old magical burn scars, sat alone at a round plastic table.

A faded Arctic Observatory field tag hung from his wrist, the station number worn almost smooth. Ahh. He set the empty glass down and looked up, his clouded eyes fixed on the small, old TV mounted in the corner of the tent, broadcasting Lucian receiving his golden trophy amid a thousand bursts of fireworks. The man shook his head, breathing out a thin curl of cigarette smoke into the cold night.

"Naive kid..." He gave a small, self-mocking smile, his voice rough and low.

"You taught them all how to stop bleeding."

"Nobody's told you yet what the Gates are going to do with the pressure you stopped spending."