The arena floor had barely settled when a circular slab rose from the center. Its surface was covered in old runes, faintly glowing as it turned once in place. Above it, light gathered into a flat field of color, shaped and controlled by old magic. Names began to form in the air — written in sharp, steady lines.
Kazuo vs KayaRulthan vs RhakkaSylvain vs KaienYuki vs Aoi
Kazuo saw his name first.
He shifted his weight and pressed a hand against his left arm. The muscles were tight, and the bruise beneath the bandage throbbed with every movement.
He looked across the ring. Searching for Kaya.
Kaya stood near the far end, arms lowered at her sides. Her eyes were fixed on the names in the air, her jaw set.
Then she turned her head and looked straight at him.
Her expression was steady, but her eyes were full of hatred — sharp and controlled, like something she had been holding in.
Kazuo met her stare for a second before she turned back to the bracket.
What the hell is her problem? Why is she so mad?
The light faded, and the stone sank back into the floor. Around the arena, the crowd stayed silent, eyes fixed on the officials.
The announcer stepped forward, robes trailing behind him. His tone was calm, formal — but final.
"The bracket is confirmed. All selected fighters will report for preparation and evaluation over the next four days."
He gave the crowd a moment to take it in.
"The first match will begin five days from now, shortly after second sun."
Kazuo's eyes didn't move. He kept them on the empty space where the names had been.
So I have to fight her in five days?So soon...
The announcer turned slightly toward the audience.
"With this, the day concludes. The arena will now close. Thank you for your presence."
The moment held for another breath. Then the enchantments dimmed, the projection stones deactivated, and the marble underfoot began to cool.
All across the floor, the fighters moved. Each turned toward their designated gate — the one they had entered from. Some walked without a word. Others traded glances or muttered under their breath.
Kazuo didn't speak.
The medical wing inside the palace barracks was quiet — clean stone floors, lined with silver-lit runes, and the faint hum of enchantments worked into the walls.
Kazuo sat at the edge of a padded bench, shirt half open, while a Recovery Mage pressed glowing fingers along the burn wrapping around his upper arm.
The pain had dulled since the fight, but the lingering sting still made his jaw tighten. The spell stitched the muscle and sealed the damage in seconds.
Across the room, Tetsu paced with his arms crossed, occasionally glancing at Kazuo.
Sora lay upside down on a bench, arms dangling, tail flicking lazily.
"I'm just glad it's over," she muttered. "That was the most nerve-wracking thing I've ever watched."
She groaned and let her head hang back. "My tail's still twitching."
Tetsu stopped pacing, adjusted his glasses, and muttered, "You didn't even fight."
Sora didn't look up. "Still counts."
The Recovery Mage gave Kazuo a nod and moved on.
Setsuna sat nearby with one leg crossed, slowly chewing through a pouch of rice crackers. He didn't speak at first, just watched the room like it was a stage play no one had rehearsed.
Eventually, he held out a cracker without looking.
Kazuo took it with a quiet sigh and bit into it, the taste bland but grounding.
Setsuna gave a small nod. "You did well."
Kazuo looked up.
"But don't relax. You've made it through the mess — now comes the real test. You'll finally have a real one-on-one in just five days."
Kazuo exhaled, slower this time. "Right… Kaya."
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Wait. If Cedric handpicked Aoi to counter me anyway, why didn't he just make us fight next?"
Setsuna tapped a finger against the bench. "That would've been too obvious. Even Cedric has limits. Or... he's just assuming Aoi will reach the finals either way."
Sora grumbled into her pillow. "Can we not overanalyze every breath and just rest for once?"
Setsuna didn't answer at first.
Then his tone shifted — less amused, more deliberate.
"You're right, Sora. But I still need to know something."
He turned toward Kazuo.
"What was it like?"
Kazuo looked down at his hand, fingers flexing slightly.
"I didn't really clash with Rulthan, Sylvain, or Kaien. I avoided them without meaning to. And Lyria... she was too busy watching everyone else. The moment I knocked her out wasn't planned — I was desperate."
Tetsu stopped pacing and pushed his glasses up.
"Rulthan kind of saved your ass, though. First he caught your fall — then he threw Lyria straight at you like he meant to give you the opening. It almost looked like he was your secret ally or something."
Kazuo nodded slowly.
I know. He said something about wanting to face me himself — that winning like this wouldn't satisfy him. It's weird… I kind of owe him, even though I'm pretty sure he wants to kill me."
Sora rolled over with a groan. "Okay, creepy."
"What about Aoi?" Setsuna asked.
"Aoi was different," Kazuo said quietly. "He didn't move like the rest of us. He could dodge mid-air like it meant nothing. His mobility, his balance... it's on a completely different level. Honestly, if he had wanted to, I think he could've ended that whole fight in the first five minutes."
Setsuna tilted his head. "Well, that's why he's in the special unit."
Sora sat up halfway. "Wait — what even is that, exactly? I keep hearing it."
Setsuna shrugged. "Let's just say... they handle the dirty work."
Kazuo let the silence stretch, then shifted the conversation.
"Kaya… I probably fought her the most. I couldn't disengage, so I followed your advice — kept moving, used every limb like a blade. It was reckless, but even then, it was hard just to keep up. She's probably the strongest physically."
He leaned forward slightly, thinking it through.
"She came at me like I was the only thing that mattered. I don't know why... but I get the feeling she has some kind of grudge. Like she really hates me — not just as a rival, but personally."
Sora lifted her head and raised an eyebrow.
"Does it matter? You've got Arcane magic. That alone should be enough to handle her."
Kazuo glanced toward Setsuna, but the look on his face had already changed.
"No," he said. "You won't use it in your fight against her."
The room went quiet.
Kazuo frowned. "What?"
Setsuna leaned forward slightly.
"That spell is your strongest card," Setsuna said, voice steady. "If you reveal it now, it stops being a surprise. The moment they see it, they'll start preparing for it — every fighter, every captain. You're not using it in this match."
Tetsu raised a hand, unsure.
"So... we're handicapping him?"
Setsuna didn't blink. "We're thinking ahead."
Kazuo didn't answer but he agreed. He will fight and win without using it.
The others had left after a while — Tetsu scribbling in his notebook, Sora half-limping, half-dancing her way out the door.
Now it was quiet.
Setsuna leaned back on the bench, arms folded, his gaze fixed on the far wall.
"I'm glad you're still standing," he said, low but clear.
Kazuo sat down across from him. His shoulders sagged as he rested his arms on his knees.
"I had to be," he murmured.
He let the silence sit for a moment before continuing.
"I just want this to end. I want to see Gramps again. This is what driving me so far. But I wonder if this is enough."
But before Setsuna could answer the door creaked open.
Kazuo looked up as two figures stepped inside — sharp boots on polished stone, violet eyes cutting through the dim light.
Shiranami's lips curled into a smile.
"Well, well. The black-eyed peasant makes a splash."
Kazuo didn't rise. He met her gaze with a steady one. "...Thanks."
She chuckled. "Relax. You earned it. At least you aren't acting cocky like that rice cracker addict."
Lyria stepped forward behind her. Calm on the surface — but her jaw was clenched tight, shoulders stiff.
Kazuo sat up straighter.
Kazuo turned as she approached. "Oh… it's you."
He straightened, then spoke without hesitation. "I'm sorry. I wanted it to be a fairer fight… but sometimes we're forced to use the only options we have."
Lyria hesitated — caught off guard by his tone. Her posture stiffened, but her voice faltered slightly.
"I… you…" She looked away for half a second. "I just came to say—don't mess this up. If you lose now, it'll make me look bad."
Lyrias thoughts raced.
That same look on his face!
Why is his face so trusting?
Lyria's expression twitched. She turned on her heel with a sharp hmph and stormed off, boots echoing in retreat.
Idiot.
Kazuo blinked, eyebrows drawn. "What does that even mean? She'll look bad if I lose?"
Shiranami shrugged. "I think… that's her weird way of saying 'good luck.'"
She smirked, "Don't read too much into it."
Kazuo stood. "Oh right. Captain Shiranami! There is something I wanted to ask you!"