Rhys walked toward the center stage with shaky legs.
The crowd was still loud, but now it felt like all the noise was aid straight at him.
He muttered,
"...Why does this feel scarier than the fights?"
Puddle floated next to him.
"Because now everyone is looking at master."
"That does NOT help."
On the platform, tables filled with items, boxes, and trophies were lined up. Teachers, staff, and healers stood nearby, clapping politely—so of the healers looked tired, probably because of Rhys.
Fate pointed at Zenith first.
"OUR CHAMPION—ZENITH! YOUR REWARD: A RANKED WEAPON VOUCHER, AN ADVANCED TRAINING PASS, AND TEN THOUSAND ACADEMY CREDITS!"
The crowd cheered again as Zenith received his items without changing expression even once.
Drear added,
"He also gets free dessert for a month because the cafeteria likes him."
Fate blinked.
"...Is that official?"
"Everything is official if I say it."
Next was Arlon.
"SECOND PLACE—ARLON! YOU GET AN EPIC-TIER SPEAR ENHANCENT, FIVE THOUSAND CREDITS, AND ACCESS TO THE FIRE DO FOR THREE MONTHS!"
Arlon punched the air.
"YES! MORE TRAINING!"
The crowd went wild.
Then... Fate turned toward Rhys.
"And finally—THIRD PLACE! OUR DARK HORSE! OUR MIRACLE SURVIVOR! OUR WALKING ACCIDENT WAITING TO HAPPEN—"
"Can you NOT call that?!"
Fate ignored him completely.
"RHYS!!"
The spotlight hit him so hard he flinched.
Drear read from the list.
"Rewards: One Rare Item Selection, one Skill Book Ticket, one month access to the Recovery Hall—"
Puddle whispered,
"Useful. Master needs that."
"Thanks?"
Drear continued,
"—and three thousand academy credits."
Fate added,
"And a bonus healing coupon because the staff said they cannot keep patching you together for free."
Rhys silently took the pile of rewards.
"Great. My reputation is ’breaks himself but keeps winning.’"
Puddle nodded proudly.
"Yes. Very accurate."
"Not sothing to be proud of!"
The audience clapped as Rhys stepped back next to Zenith and Arlon.
Arlon grinned.
"Not bad, kid."
Zenith nodded.
"You earned it."
Rhys scratched his head.
"Thanks... I guess."
Then Fate shouted again,
"AND WITH THAT—THE TOURNANT IS OVER! PLEASE EXIT IN AN ORDERLY LINE OR WHATEVER YOU FEEL LIKE, I DON’T GET PAID ENOUGH TO CARE!"
Drear pulled his mic down.
"...Ignore him. Thank you for attending."
The crowd began to leave, buzzing with excitent.
Rhys looked at his rewards, still stunned.
Puddle floated up next to his ear.
"Master. We did good."
Rhys finally smiled a little.
"...Yeah. We did."
As the arena slowly emptied, the echoes of cheers faded into a gentle hum, like distant waves rolling away.
Rhys let out a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
The air felt lighter now.
Puddle drifted around him in slow circles, glowing softly—almost like she was humming her own little victory song.
Rhys laughed under his breath.
"...You’re in a good mood."
"Master won. Puddle happy."
Her voice was small, warm—like sunlight in the cold.
Rhys glanced at the rewards in his hands, still not used to the idea that these were his.
He had entered the tournant expecting to be knocked out in the first round—maybe the second if he was lucky.
Yet here he stood.
Third place.
Alive.
And... proud.
He walked toward the edge of the stage, steps quiet on the stone floor.
The arena lights dimd slowly, painting everything in soft gold.
Dust floated in the air like tiny stars drifting downward.
Puddle settled on his shoulder.
"Master strong," she whispered.
Rhys shook his head with a small smile.
"Not strong. Just... stubborn enough not to die."
Puddle tapped her forehead gently against his cheek.
"That is also strength."
He didn’t reply.
Rhys stepped off the stage at last, feeling his legs relax as the pressure lted away.
He barely took two breaths before he heard hurried footsteps.
"Rhys!"
He turned—
—and was imdiately surrounded.
Sophia reached him first, grabbing his arm.
"You idiot! You scared us like ten tis!"
Caria poked his forehead.
"I counted twelve."
Aria smiled gently, holding a small healing charm.
"You did well. Very well."
Behind them, Lyra stood with her arms crossed, expression calm but her eyes warm.
Rhys blinked.
"Uh... thanks? All of you ca together?"
Sophia rolled her eyes.
"Well, yeah. Soone had to check if you were still in one piece."
Caria added,
"And soone had to stop Sophia from running into the arena during your match."
"I WAS JUST CONCERNED!"
Aria laughed softly, the calst of the three.
Lyra stepped closer, giving Rhys a light pat on the shoulder.
"Don’t worry," she said with a small smile.
"You just have less fighting experience. That’s why you lost your last match."
Rhys sighed.
"...You don’t have to say it that plainly."
"I do," Lyra said. "It helps you improve."
Puddle floated forward, puffing up proudly.
"Master almost died three tis. Improvent already happening."
"PUDDLE—PLEASE STOP SAYING IT LIKE THAT."
The sisters laughed together, the sound soft and warm after the loud chaos of the arena.
Sophia looked at his rewards and whistled.
"Third place... You really pulled it off."
Caria smirked.
"You beat people way stronger than you. That’s impressive."
Aria nodded.
"You should rest now. You earned it."
Rhys rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed but happy.
"...Thanks. Really."
Lyra looked at him for a mont longer, eyes thoughtful.
"You’ll get stronger. I can tell."
Rhys blinked.
"You think so?"
"I know so."
Puddle grinned wide.
"See? Master has fan club."
Sophia choked.
"WE ARE NOT HIS FAN CLUB!"
Caria grinned.
"...Not yet."
Aria hid a small smile behind her hand.
Rhys groaned.
"Why are you all like this..."
Before Rhys could complain more, Sophia clapped her hands loudly.
"Enough talking! Ti to celebrate!"
Rhys blinked.
"Celebrate? ?"
Caria rolled her eyes.
"No, the floor. YES, YOU."
Aria nodded with a gentle smile.
"You placed third in the academy tournant. That deserves a celebration."
Lyra crossed her arms but her lips curved slightly.
"We already booked a table in the cafeteria. Don’t argue."
Rhys stared at all four of them.
"You... planned this?"
Sophia grinned proudly.
"Of course! We knew you’d survive."
Caria added,
"Barely survive, but still survive."
Puddle floated up, glowing happily.
"Puddle likes celebration. Master must eat sweets."
Rhys sighed.
"...You’re all too excited."
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