Before he could say more, a hand landed on my shoulder, and the world spun for an instant before abruptly snapping back into clarity. The guardian and champion who had stood in our path re monts ago were now gone, vanished without fanfare.
My attention shifted to our surroundings. The room was lavish, far removed from anything I would have associated with a battleground. It wasn’t especially large adn more intimate, almost like a modest theater designed for a small audience.
Whoosh.
Glancing over my shoulder at the direction of the noise, I saw Dream and Kris stepping out from a dark tear in the air.
The floor beneath us was tiled with broad, milk-white stone, cool and faintly echoing beneath my steps as Serith led forward. Overhead, crystals suspended in sculpted insets cast a soft orange glow that ward the space without chasing away the unease.
To my right stood a single row of chairs of just over a dozen—simple yet arranged with quiet purpose. Serith guided toward the far end of the room, to where a screen might stand in a stage hall.
But instead, what faced us was a seamless wall of opaque black-chro, smooth and dark like obsidian. Serith ca to a halt, her hand falling from my shoulder as she waited in silence.
Another glance back. Ai had entered, gliding beside i with familiar poise, Griffith trailing behind them with cautious steps, Synthia at his side like a shadow.
There was that smirk still plastered on his face. Drema’s cold, inquisitive stare hadn’t shifted from , his eyes tracking my every movent like I was prey under the scrutiny of a bored predator. And Kirs.
The young man was currently in his more composed form. No longer the twisted ram-legged creature who had pounded into the floor, but instead standing calm with his curled horns echoing the Voidrace, his skin still marked with that otherworldly hue that set him apart from humans.
Our eyes t briefly. His expression was unreadable, offering nothing more than a small nod of acknowledgnt before his gaze shifted to the girl who was going to be my opponent.
“Don’t look at that man,” Serith said sharply, snapping my attention away from Drema and back to her. “While I’m here, he—and anyone above him—cannot touch you.”
I offered her a faint smile of gratitude just as the others arrived beside us. I heard Dream and Kris settling into the seats behind the group, their quiet movents grounding the mont.
Ai paused to take stock of i and , her gaze resting on each of us in turn before she released a long, asured breath. “Are you two ready?”
I gave a firm nod. i followed a heartbeat later, hers smaller, and just a touch hesitant.
“I’ll explain the rules then,” Serith began, her voice flat, eyes locked sowhere behind us as though watching unseen threats. “There will be no interference in the match once it begins.”
She paused after the first sentence, allowing the weight of it to settle in the air. A chuckle drifted from behind us. The pointy-eared man’s voice, low and amused.
Then Serith turned her gaze to .
“The match only ends when one participant forfeits… or dies.”
I’d already lived through situations where rules like this turned ugly. So I raised a hand, voice steady. “What if one of us is incapacitated and can’t speak up to surrender?”
“Well…” Ai’s gaze dropped to the polished tiles as her slippers shifted slightly, a quiet rasp of movent. It wasn’t shyness, but more a flicker of mild indifference. “It doesn’t usually happen. But I suppose… you could wait until your opponent wakes up.”
I blinked. Stunned. My eyes darted to i, concern flickering beneath my confidence in her abilities. “You can’t be serious. Why not just end the match at that point?”
Surely, I wasn’t the only one asking that. I didn’t see myself as a moral crusader, just soone with a sliver of common sense. Ending a fight when one person is clearly unable to continue—it wasn’t idealism. It was logic. There had to be a reason for this level of brutality, right?
How far did this thought process plague the world, or rather, worlds?
Serith, perhaps sensing the question burning in my mind, answered before I could speak.
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“That kind of decision usually runs against the desires of the Guardians.” She seed ready to continue, but the elf cut in unbidden, his voice like a blade slipping smoothly between her words.
“You place far too much value on yourself, Peter. This is not a trial designed to reward champions. It is a crucible for us, a asure of our stewardship.”
I turned, eting his gaze, and the reminder of Elder Ramus struck . Those sa eyes: covetous, hollow, yet deceptively calm. With a casual flick, he swept a curtain of silver hair behind his ear, his youthful features gleaming with a polish that made him look less like a warrior and more like so poised actor caught mid-interview, answering questions with rehearsed charm.
“A failure to cultivate a territory of strong individuals is nothing less than incompetence. And incompetence,” he gave a slow, almost pitying shake of his head, “leads to reassignnt… or worse.” His voice dipped into feigned regret, lanting the fates of the unfortunate, but the faint curl at the corner of his lips betrayed the insincerity.
He drew in a deliberate breath, then placed a languid hand on Kris’ shoulder. “A world that yields mightier champions earns rewards.” He paused, savoring the weight of his words before adding with mock generosity: “Naturally, when permitted, we pass so of those spoils onto you.”
The thought curdled in my mind, heavy and dark. A quick glance at Serith confird the truth with her grim nod saying enough.
It wasn’t that all champions were rciless by nature, eager to snuff out a life. It was that the act itself that nourished the Guardian behind them. I couldn’t be certain, but I could almost imagine combatants refusing to allow an opponent’s surrender, silencing them before they could yield, ensuring their victory was final, irrevocable.
Elric had been right. Maybe Serith stood apart, but the rest—these beings, these so-called stewards of worlds looked at us with nothing more than calculation. We were pawns to fatten their strength, nothing more.
Of course, exceptions existed. Lucan and Kris had fought, and both yet lived. Though perhaps Kris had been too strong to kill, or wise enough to yield at the right mont. I wanted to believe Serith did her part to keep the body count lower. I wanted to.
A hand the size of a shield landed on my shoulder, firm but grounding. Griffith leaned close, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “There’s no rule against waiting, if it cos to that. Don’t tornt yourself over the motives of those we’ll never fully comprehend.”
He was right. This system wasn’t mine to overturn. Serith had no quarrel with sparing i, and Ai certainly wouldn’t demand blood. The law of this place was cruel, but not absolute. At least not here, not now. My focus belonged elsewhere.
“I have one more question,” I said, turning to Ai. “If we fail, will there be other matches?”
Her answer ca calm and steady. “It depends. These are the only contests that hold weight in an official capacity, but with certain... request, more matches could be arranged. However, you shouldn't consider exceptions."
I found myself smiling at that. My path had narrowed to a single point: win.
Not for the promise of rewards. Not to earn favor in Serith’s eyes. Perhaps it was selfish to try and choose on i’s behalf, but a child her age should never be thrust into an ordeal like this.
If I was wrong, so be it. Perhaps in a few years she would be more prepared, or perhaps she was already more suited to this than I could imagine. Even so… I was weary of worlds that demanded sacrifice without sense, forcing children into their ruthless gas.
Serith and Ai stepped aside in unison, their hands rising in silent command, gesturing toward the waiting void of the screen.
“Both of you, step forward,” Serith commanded, her tone firm, resonant.
“The match will begin the instant you arrive,” Ai added, her words sharp.
i and I shared a fleeting glance, no words needed. Then we moved.
One.
Two.
Three.
The obsidian wall lood before us, swallowing the glow of the chamber like a curtain of endless night. My pulse quickened, each beat a drum of anticipation. Oddly enough, it wasn’t dread that gripped , but excitent. Maybe I was beginning to crave battle?
I reached out, extending my hand toward the surface that seed solid, immovable. My fingertips brushed the black expanse.
A ripple surged outward in concentric waves, the wall shuddering as though alive. The icy surface bit cold against my skin, and then, with a sudden rush, it swallowed whole.
Darkness cascaded over my senses, devouring sight and sound.
Yet my consciousness remained, suspended in the void. Shapes shifted faintly at the edge of awareness.. The air was stagnant, still. Every mont stretched long.
Are you ready? Wyrem’s voice cut cleanly through the monotony, steady and grounding.
I tried to inhale, only to find nothing filled my lungs. No air, no breath, but no suffocation either. Just existence in a vacuum. The arena hadn’t yet revealed itself.
Don’t injure the girl, Luna murmured, her voice gentle, almost pleading. She was kind.
All it takes is one complint for Luna to like soone. Though, maybe in terms of maturity in her species, Luna, Vel, and i were all similar in age.
I wasn’t planning to, I reassured her. But I have to win. If I do, she won’t be forced to fight again. Maybe… maybe we can find a way to bring her back too.
Or find her yourself, Wyrem suggested. It didn’t seem that the older one would bring her to your ho. But it does seem that you are in the sa world. Get stronger. Find her. Learn from her. And as you always do—
Teach.
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