Since the dawn of time, humanity has chased mirages. But in the year 314 of the Age of the Forge, the mirage took a concrete form: the Oculus of Eden. An object capable of bending reality to one's wildest desires, healing the incurable, and resurrecting hope.
Yet, behind the promise of a miracle lies a truth darker than the abyss. This is not a tournament... it is a harvest.
Fourteen houses. Ninety-eight souls. Three hundred and fourteen days to transform humans into legendary weapons that the Forge Masters will sell to the highest bidder on the black market of eternity.
The Outcast's Humiliation
The registration hall was a palace of marble and polished steel, a silent insult to the misery of the world outside. Kyo burst into the room, his lungs burning, his clothes stained with dust. His eyes were bloodshot. The image of his sister Mio, pale on her hospital bed, haunted his every breath.
"I WANT THE OCULUS!" he screamed, making the glass panes vibrate. "GIVE ME THE FORM! I'M GOING TO BLAST YOU ALL AWAY!"
A cold laugh, like the clinking of ice, shattered his momentum.
"Look at this piece of trash."
Ren Nakamura stepped forward, a silk scarf floating behind him with insulting elegance. Behind him, two imposing guards carried his Lightning Scepter, a weapon whose electric glow made the air crackle.
"You reek of poverty, brat," Ren spat, approaching. "Do you think this tournament is a charity? Your sister is already doomed. Don't soil the arena floor with your despair."
With a sudden move, Ren pushed Kyo with his foot. The boy splayed heavily across the cold marble. Around them, candidates from prestigious lineages burst into laughter.
Suddenly, the laughter died in their throats. The air became heavy, almost solid. A crushing physical pressure descended upon the room. Haruto Kurosawa stepped forward, hands in his pockets, his dark gaze fixed on Ren.
"A man's true value is measured by his weapon, not his bank account, Nakamura," Haruto said in a glacial voice that seemed to drop the room's temperature. "Here, the only wealth that matters is staying alive. Let him through."
Ren stepped back instinctively, his fingers trembling before Haruto's dark aura. "Tch. Just another lab rat acting tough. See you in the arena."
The Gate of Blood
To enter the official rankings, there was only one way: the Gate of Blood. A sudden-death duel. Win to exist, or lose to vanish forever.
The arena was a marvel of cruel engineering. Above the sand, silver Eye-Drones levitated, their red lenses capturing every drop of blood to broadcast it to the entire world. On massive holographic screens, candidates' vitality bars and strength stats flickered.
The first fight was an execution. Ren carbonized his opponent before he could even move.
Then came Noahi Kuretsuna. She approached her opponent, Zale, with a hollow smile. She didn't even draw a weapon. She leaned toward him, her eyes locked onto his.
"Tell me, Zale... Why is your heart beating so fast? Is it the fear of dying... or the fear that no one will remember you tomorrow?"
Zale trembled. Noahi's gaze was an abyss.
"Do you hear that?" she whispered in his ear. "It's the sound of your courage fleeing. If I slit your throat now, do you think your blood will be as cold as your hands?"
Zale's eyes rolled back. His mind snapped. He fell to his knees, paralyzed by irrational terror. Noahi won without landing a single blow.
The Idiot's Miracle
"Next match: Kyo Kagami vs. Jiro!"
Jiro, protected by his "Mobile Iron Shield," sneered. "You can't touch me, you little moron!"
Kyo didn't listen. He only saw Mio's face.
"MY SISTER WILL BE HEALED!"
He charged head-on, but in his rage, he slipped on a puddle of water. In a ridiculous motion, he spun out of control, bounced off the wall, and by a pure miracle, his Twin Fangs separated. One of the blades flew and jammed perfectly into the shield's rotation mechanism.
BOOM!
The shield exploded. Kyo, face-down in the sand, raised a trembling thumb.
"I... I did that on purpose!"
Checkmate
The final fight of the day pitted Haruto against Goro, a titan with a giant axe. Goro swung his weapon with the force of an earthquake, but Haruto didn't retreat. He merely tilted his torso a few degrees, letting the blade graze his ear in a sinister hiss.
Slow. Too slow, Haruto thought.
His fingers lashed out, striking precise points on Goro's chest.
"One... two... seven. The seven pressure points of your defeat. You haven't even noticed that you're already dead."
Haruto turned his back and snapped his fingers.
SNAP!
A series of purple explosions tore through the air, propelling Goro against the ceiling.
Epilogue
In his private box, Lord Valerius smiled at his screens.
"The livestock is promising this year. Especially that boy, Kyo... his unpredictability could increase the value of those Twin Fangs by 200%."
The tournament had begun. The harvest was open.