"Luna... I want you."
Her voice carried, somehow clear even over the deafening crowd.
I froze, still hunched over, my sword the only thing keeping me upright. Maybe the ringing in my ears had scrambled it.
Uh. What?
The heat that had finally started fading after Elara's humiliating cheerleading came surging back, hotter than ever.
Oh gods. No way. Is this a confession? Here? Now? Victoria is nice to look at—annoyingly nice—but my heart is absolutely not ready for that kind of... stuff. I just survived her trying to chop me into pieces. How'd we get here?
"Wha—what?" The word scraped out of my throat, broken and half-strangled.
Victoria dragged herself upright, each movement stiff and deliberate, like she refused to let weakness show. Her eyes locked onto mine—no disdain, no mockery. Just focused. Hungry.
Wait, does this mean I have to say yes? You can't just reject someone who almost killed you, right? ... Yeah, no. Definitely a trick. She's about to stab me again, isn't she?
"I want you on the team." Her voice hitched, but she pushed through. "For the Summit."
...
Oh. Ohhhhhh. Right... That makes way more sense. Gods, Luna, get a grip.
Even though most of the audience couldn't hear her, Elara somehow did. She let out a piercing whistle that cut through the air like a knife.
"My, my, Luna! Beat your opponent and bag a confession in front of the whole academy? You work fast! I'm jealous!" A couple of cadets near her laughed, craning their necks to get a better look at me, and I seriously considered digging a hole in the arena floor to die in.
My face went volcanic for the third time today. "Elara!" I whined.
Victoria's gaze never wavered, though she was clearly amused. "So," she said, tilting her head, "did you catch that? Seems some people think I made a confession." The implication twisted my stomach in knots. "You'd better keep up... or risk disappointing your admirer."
Gods. Kill me. Right here, right now. I shoved the heat out of my ears and forced myself to answer. "Alright, alright, fine! You win. I'll... train with you. Team-up. Whatever."
For a second, her expression softened, just enough to almost look real. She extended a hand. My fingers shook as I took it, the grip firm despite both of us being wrecked.
"Good," she said. "Let's see what you're really capable of. The tournament won't be kind."
She released my hand with a nod. "We'll set times. Don't expect me to pull punches just because we're... teammates now."
I swallowed, still light-headed from the fight and the humiliation stacked on top of it. "Yeah, yeah. I'll... be ready," I muttered, trying and failing to sound steady while my legs felt like jelly.
With one last look at her, I staggered toward the arena exit, my sword dragging a loud scrape in the dirt. The crowd was still going wild, but inside the stone halls, it all faded into a dull hum. My thoughts, unfortunately, did not.
"Luna!"
I flinched. Elara was jogging up, beaming. "Well, look at you! All that training finally did something!"
I rolled my eyes, though a laugh slipped past anyway. "Yes, yes, I survived. Can we not do this here?"
"Oh, no, no, no sweetie! Don't you dare downplay it!" She grabbed my shoulders and shook me like a rag doll. "You crushed it! Sixteen at the Gravity stage? I knew you had it in you."
"Thanks, Elara. I... I guess."
She grabbed both of my shoulders, green eyes staring. "And here I thought it'd take you months to get that far. Shows what I know, now you're out here breaking swords and breaking hearts."
"Alright, alright, I get it. Can I break a bed next? Preferably with my face in a pillow?"
Elara finally eased up, though the pride was still plastered on her face. "Fine, fine. I'll shut up. But really—congrats, sis. You earned it. Now go crash before your shiny new teammate drags you back out here."
I sighed, more disbelief than breath. "Yeah... more training."
Still, as I trudged toward the dorms, I couldn't stop myself from glancing back. Victoria was still there. Upright. Composed. That amused expression still lingering like she knew something I didn't.
And somehow... the idea of facing her again didn't feel quite as terrifying.
* * *
For once, I thought I might actually get to sleep past sunrise. Elara had finally declared me graduated from her dawn torture sessions, which mostly meant she was out of excuses to drag me into the woods and watch me trip over roots half-asleep.
Freedom lasted all of twelve hours.
Now I was standing on one of the academy's official training grounds, a wide square of packed sand ringed by stone walls and bleachers, banners snapping overhead. It was pristine, professional.
Victoria was already there, of course. Standing dead center like she owned the place, her practice blade balanced easily over her shoulder. Beside her, slouched against a pillar, was... someone. A guy I'd never seen before, hood up, nose buried in a thick spellbook.
Great. A stranger. Because this wasn't awkward enough already.
"Late," Victoria said as soon as my boots hit the sand.
"I'm literally on time," I shot back.
Her smirk said otherwise. "Then you should've been early."
Ugh, another training demon. Team practice, and we're starting with this.
The mage sighed without looking up. "Are we training or flirting? Because if it's the second thing, I'd like to go back to my room."
My entire body went hot. "We're not—!"
"Focus," Victoria cut in smoothly, not even bothering to deny it. "Tournament rounds don't forgive hesitation. We need to learn each other's rhythms if we want a chance of winning."
I glanced toward the hooded figure. "Uh... and he is?"
The mage finally glanced up, unimpressed. "I'm right here, you know."
Victoria didn't miss a beat. "He is our other teammate, of course, a mage." Her gaze flicked back to me. "You'll learn to work with him."
I blinked. "That's it? No name?"
The mage sighed, snapping his book shut. "Doesn't matter if you remember my name if you can't keep up."
My jaw dropped. "... Excuse me?"
Victoria only folded her arms, perfectly calm. "Tournament fights don't wait for pleasantries. You two need to learn each other's rhythms, now. We'll start with drills, offense, and defense. Then we swap. No excuses."
"Sounds painful," the mage said, stretching his fingers like he was warming up for a piano recital instead of combat. "I'm in."
"Of course you are," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.
Victoria's lips betrayed her demeanor, like she was enjoying every second of my misery. "Good. Because this is only the warm-up."
Wonderful. Really traded one sadist for another.
Victoria finally dropped her practice blade into a loose stance, the thud echoing across the sand. "Before we start, let's clarify roles. You'll need to know each other's strengths, weaknesses, and limits. No improvising blindly in the tournament."
I groaned.
"The mage," she said, gesturing to the hooded figure, "is our support. He covers range, maintains battlefield control, and supplements our attacks with spells. Stage four, like us. Still uses a catalyst because advanced spells demand focus."
The mage straightened, twirling the slender staff in one hand. "I prefer precision, thank you very much. And yes, my specialities are lightning and wind. So don't ask me to make tea with it."
I rolled my eyes. Figures. Mr. Gloomy-with-a-Staff.
Victoria continued, eyes snapping to me. "For me. Frontline, direct engagement. Keep enemies busy, absorb pressure, control space." She tilted her head toward me.. "You?"
I swallowed hard. "Uh... wildcard?"
"Exactly," she said, lips twitching. "You're fast, unpredictable. Force opponents into mistakes, exploit openings. You aren't the main damage, you aren't the buffer, but your versatility is what wins fights."
I could practically see the Chaos Incoming sign flashing over my head. So glad she has such a high opinion of my skills.
The mage snorted. "So... meat grinder with a personality disorder, huh?"
Victoria didn't flinch. "More like a scalpel. Efficient, precise... terrifying if used right."
"Right. Terrifying. That's totally how I look." I struggled to hold back the incoming eyeroll, cheeks warming despite myself.
Victoria straightened her posture. "Now, the Apex Blade Summit structure."
I braced myself, leaning slightly on my sword. Somehow, I knew this was going to be more complicated than it needed to be.
"The tournament consists of two main stages. Stage one is team combat. Three rounds: first, coordinated fight against monsters; second, a match against another team; third, an all-out free-for-all between the remaining teams. Each round is scored on a five-point system."
I scribbled imaginary tally marks in my head, heart hammering. Five points per round. Got it. Don't mess this up. Don't embarrass yourself. Don't... oh gods, is she going to test me on this later?
"Stage two is dueling," Victoria continued, voice precise. "The top six teams from stage one advance. Matches are individual, but each team earns one point for every victory. Team members may fight as many consecutive duels as strategy dictates. Every duel contributes to the team's total score, emphasizing both skill and stamina."
The mage raised an eyebrow. "So... team fights first, then individual duels—but points still go to the team?"
Victoria's expression didn't change. "Exactly. Stage one tests coordination and strategy. Stage two tests adaptability, endurance, and precision. Both stages are equally critical. Errors are punished."
I looked down at my feet, trying to parse the logistics while my brain screamed. Wait, so I could be dragged into battle three times in a row? Or five? Or fifteen? Someone stop me. My fingers twitched around my sword hilt.
The mage finally looked up from his spellbook, unimpressed. "Sounds... fun." His voice had that measured, sarcastic lilt that made it impossible to tell if he actually cared..
I shot him a flat stare, feeling my jaw twitch. "Well, I think it sounds way more than just fun. Way. More. Than. Fun."
"Any questions?" Victoria asked, pointing her sword.
I chewed on my lip, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet. "Uh... yeah. A few," I admitted, voice tight with anticipation.
Victoria's gaze narrowed, but she didn't blink. "Proceed."
I began to bounce even more, barely containing the excitement. "Okay... for the monster round, is it just survive as long as possible? Or do we get points for kills too?"
"Time-based survival. Top three teams earn five points. The remaining teams are ranked by the duration they survived. Efficiency, coordination, and adaptation influence the outcome."
I grinned, fingers tightening around my sword hilt. Top three? Survive waves? Bring it. I'm going to dart, leap, swing, duck, roll, spin... oh gods, maybe somersault too—no, too risky—but maybe. I'll show those monsters exactly how nimble I can be.
The mage snorted, staff spinning lazily. "So... chaos in waves, measured with a stopwatch. Relaxing."
I shot him a flat glare. "Relaxing? Ha. More like fun."
Victoria's cheek twitched, unimpressed. "Next question."
I raised a hand, grinning despite the heat climbing in my cheeks. "Okay, for the second game." Words tumbled out in a rush. "How does scoring work there?"
"Anchor Stones. Each team has one. Protect it at all costs. Destroy the enemy stone, and you earn four points immediately. Plus the victory point."
I blinked, heart hammering. "Wait... just like that? Destroy theirs, you win?"
"Instantly," Victoria confirmed. "However, there is one Central Beacon in the middle. Capturing it requires ten seconds of contact, during which our opponents can contest it. Successfully capturing it weakens their Anchor Stone and strengthens yours for three minutes, then resets."
The mage's staff twirled lazily again. "So the middle gives you a temporary edge, but isn't required to win?"
"Correct," Victoria said, expression unchanging. "Teams may ignore it, attempt to destroy the enemy Anchor Stone directly, or leverage it strategically. Every capture also awards one point. First team to four points wins, whether by capturing or destroying the Anchor Stone."
So many choices. We can sneak the middle, weaken their stone, then rush the base. Or hide like ghosts, snatch points, and wait for the perfect moment. Or... or... oh gods, strategy overload, Luna, calm down.
Amusement flashed across her face. "Multiple strategies, multiple opportunities. Adaptation and coordination will determine success."
I glanced at the mage, who raised an eyebrow. "Seems like it'll get messy."
I laughed, a little wild. Yes. Messy. Fast. Brutal. Exactly what I live for.
Victoria's gaze swept us both. "Any further questions?"
"What will we actually be doing in the free-for-all?" The mage said.
"Game three. Objective-based collection."
I leaned forward, already buzzing. "Collection? Explain."
"Each team carries a single Standard," Victoria said, gesturing toward a hanging banner. "There are eighteen teams. Two-hour time limit. Each banner captured gives your team one point."
I chewed on my lip, thinking. "So if we lose ours, we're out?"
She shook her head. "No. You may continue to capture other teams' banners. Each team may take as many banners as they can. Maximum points a team can earn: four. Strategize wisely. The 3 teams with the most banners at the end earn an extra point."
The mage tilted his head, staff tapping the ground. "So theoretically, we could snatch everyone else's and leave as the only ones with points?"
Victoria nodded. "Yes. But remember: movement, planning, and defense are critical. Losing your banner doesn't end the game. Losing control of multiple banners, however... can ruin your entire score."
I smirked, heart hammering. Chaos, scrambling, grabs, sprints, feints, blocks... yes, yes, yes. I live for this. "Tactical thievery. Love it."
"Exactly. Adapt. Coordinate. Exploit weaknesses. And don't expect mercy."
I clenched my fists around my sword, already imagining the scramble, the dodges, the dives, the near-misses.
Victoria moved to draw her sword. "Enough explanations. Let's see what you can do."
I could feel my pulse hammering, fingers itching to swing my sword. No more explanations, no more theorizing. Now it was about movement, speed, and instinct.
The training ground stretched wide before us, the sand glittering faintly under the rising sun, banners snapping overhead like impatient whispers. Every corner of the arena was a challenge waiting to happen, every shadow a possible threat. And for the first time, the tournament didn't feel like numbers or rules. It felt real. Dangerous. Alive.
Chaos, strategy... my mind raced through possibilities, but one thought burned brightest: Yes. I can't help it, I love a challenge.
Victoria stepped forward, practice blade poised, and the mage twirled his staff. My grin widened, wild and feral.
Time to move.
Let's do this.