Marrying the Strongest Antagonist at the Start

At House Ravenwood, Duke Charles, Leslie, Madelyn, and several elder members sat around a round table, their expressions serious.

"The Bounty Guild has really stooped to a new low! For an old vice leader to have the nerve to challenge a younger generation! If I were him, I'd find a wall to bang my head against!" one elder exclaimed.

"If it were just him challenging Owen, it wouldn't be a big deal. We could simply have Owen refuse. But since His Majesty has spoken, it shows he has opinions about our Duke's mansion..." another elder added.

"Regardless of His Majesty's views or how other mages see it, Owen's talent is exceptional, and he possesses the Godslayer Staff. We must not lose him!" exclaimed a third elder.

The elders on either side of the round table spoke with irritation, clearly pleased with Owen's talent and strength. However, they were concerned about various forces meddling in their affairs, especially with the Bounty Guild's vice leader—a nearly platinum-tier elder—openly challenging young Owen and shamelessly disregarding their own reputation.

"You all worry too much. I've already sent several messengers to intercept Owen before he enters the capital," Duke Charles reassured them. "As long as he avoids this vortex, both the vice leader of the Bounty Guild and His Majesty will have to give House Ravenwood some respect."

Seated at the head of the table, Duke Charles remained composed. Being plotted against by various factions and even His Majesty was within his expectations: House Ravenwood had grown too strong and prominent, drawing attention.

Owen shared a similar fate; his fame, along with possessing the Godslayer Staff, attracted many eyes. However, due to this notoriety, the top-tier forces were restrained from acting directly against him. As long as Owen kept a low profile, the matter would gradually fade away.

"The Duke's actions align perfectly with my thoughts. We cannot follow the path they have laid out for us. With the prodigies of various factions gathering in the capital, Owen's return could be the spark to ignite the powder keg. At that point, it would be extremely disadvantageous for House Ravenwood," remarked one elder, stroking his graying beard seriously.

"House Ravenwood is now at the center of the storm. The key to breaking this situation lies with Owen. The longer we delay, the more advantageous it will be for us!" another elder added.

"Yes, based on Owen's previous behavior, he is a smart man and should quickly distance himself from the capital, this dragon's lair," many agreed during the meeting.

Although House Ravenwood was currently in the spotlight with countless eyes on them, as long as Owen did not show himself, they dared not make a move. House Ravenwood was not to be trifled with by anyone without a significant incentive.

Just then, a messenger burst into the meeting, drenched in sweat and panting heavily. "Your Grace, bad news! Master Owen has just arrived at the gates of the capital and is headed straight for the Royal Arena!"

As the messenger finished speaking, the previously noisy hall fell silent. They stared at him in shock, mouths agape. Owen was going to the Royal Arena?! Did they hear correctly?

At this time, shouldn't Owen be leaving the capital as quickly as possible? Whether it was the vice leader of the Bounty Guild or other prodigies, they had long been keeping an eye on him. Entering the capital at this moment was tantamount to courting death!

The elders, who had previously thought Owen to be a smart man, now felt their reputations were at stake.

"What were the previous messengers doing? They were supposed to have Owen leave, not go to the Royal Arena!" one elder exclaimed, glancing around the table.

Seeing the oppressive atmosphere, the messenger spoke up, "The previous messengers did inform Master Owen, but he insisted on entering the capital. Commander Benedict and the others are still trying to persuade him..."

Before he could finish, Duke Charles interrupted anxiously, "Send out a summons! Any family members not engaged in critical matters must go to the Royal Arena. We cannot afford to lose Owen and the Godslayer Staff!"

Receiving the Duke's command, the messenger quickly left to relay the orders.

"Why? What is Owen thinking? Has he gone mad? Tony's strength is comparable to a true platinum-tier Level 1 fighter. Owen's current strength is no match for him; this is just suicide!" an elder exclaimed.

"Perhaps his victory over the second young miss has made him overconfident. The priority now is to stop Owen..."

As the group debated countermeasures, the messenger suddenly returned. "Your Grace, many of the family's elite fighters have been deployed to the borders and remote areas. Some are currently completing tasks assigned within the estate. For now... there are no strong fighters available."

The messenger cautiously glanced at the Duke's increasingly darkening expression before relaying the newly gathered information. "Who is plotting against House Ravenwood?" Duke Charles demanded, his voice stern.

The family had many experts meant to deal with any crisis that might arise. 

However, they had all been sent away. Clearly, someone was scheming against them from the shadows. 

Thinking of the importance of Owen and the Godslayer Staff, Duke Charles suppressed his anger and waved his hand decisively. 

"Let's go to the Royal Arena!" 

Although there were no powerful mages to escort him, Duke Charles himself possessed great strength and could protect Owen. 

After angrily leaving the meeting room, Duke Charles was quickly followed by Madelyn. After a moment of thought, she got up and trailed after him. 

While she didn't know Owen's exact plans, her previous understanding of him—especially his methodical combat style—led her to believe he wasn't impulsive or reckless. Since Owen chose to head to the Royal Arena despite knowing the risks, he must have had his own plan!

The other elders of House Ravenwood, seeing this, could only rise and leave, dragging their aged bodies with them. They were old and no longer had much fighting power. They only hoped that the Duke would succeed in all matters.

After everyone had left, a messenger, with his head bowed, half-knelt on the ground and earnestly addressed Leslie, who was sitting in the corner of the round table. 

"Miss, the order has already been given for all the strong members of the family to avoid this matter for the time being."

Leslie paused for a moment, seemingly in thought, then nodded. "You may go."

Owen's unexpected appearance had caught her off guard, making him someone she couldn't fully understand for the first time. However, through her meticulous planning, she had managed to trap Owen. The more he struggled, the faster he would perish.

...

In the capital city, on the way to the Royal Arena, Owen could clearly sense the curious gazes of the mages around him. Meanwhile, Benedict and the other Wolf Guards shielded him in the center while trying to dissuade him from participating in the duel. 

"Master Owen, this duel is extremely disadvantageous for you. You should abandon it for now and return to the family to discuss this further. The family is full of experts who will protect and help you…" 

Owen did not stop his steps toward the Royal Arena. 

He spoke slowly, "I appreciate your concern, but first, the Duke's mansion will definitely not help me. Second, I have many doubts I want to verify through this opportunity. You don't need to worry about me. Just remember to keep your eyes open and protect them." 

Benedict looked at Owen with a puzzled expression, not understanding why he was so sure that the Duke's mansion wouldn't help him. After all, he was now the Duke's son-in-law. What did he mean by protecting their eyes?

Not long after, Owen arrived at the Royal Arena. By this time, it was already crowded with top prodigies from various factions and countless mages who had come to watch the spectacle. The previously empty VIP seats were now packed with people, and the scene was incredibly noisy, like a bustling marketplace.

Among the gathered crowd, Owen quickly noticed a middle-aged man with a scholarly appearance, wearing a monocle. He sat quietly in a corner of the VIP section, looking very low-key, with a book on his lap and a quill in his hand, occasionally writing in it. 

"Edward... the scholar responsible for recording the continent's history from Academy City..." 

Seeing Edward, Owen felt a slight heaviness in his heart.