The VIP section was separated from the general seating by reinforced barriers and two layers of detection arrays. Kael passed through both without pause—his na was on the approved list, and the Vorn family sigil on his uniform opened doors that would otherwise remain shut.
The Vorn family seating area was exactly as ostentatious as he’d expected. Plush chairs arranged in a semicircle, a small table between them holding refreshnts that probably cost more than most families earned in a month. A privacy ward humd around the periter, keeping eavesdroppers at bay.
Blade No. 11 stood behind the chairs like a shadow given form. Dark armor, masked face, hands resting on the hilts of twin blades. His cultivation base pressed against Kael’s senses like a weight—Origin Realm, at minimum.
"Greeting, Blade 11."
The masked figure nodded.
Kael turned his attention to the two figures seated before him.
Thalia looked up first. His third sister—head of the Vorn research division, master of biological manipulation, one of the few siblings who’d never actively tried to kill him. She wore a fitted black dress that managed to be both elegant and practical, her dark hair pinned up in a complicated arrangent that probably took servants an hour to create.
"It’s good to see you again, sis."
Kael reached out and took her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles in an exaggerated gesture of chivalry. Thalia’s lips twitched—almost a smile.
"Still dramatic as ever, little brother."
Then he turned.
Marcus sat sprawled in his chair like he owned it—one arm draped over the armrest, the other holding a glass of sothing amber. His expensive clothing did nothing to improve his face, which had apparently decided to age poorly out of spite. His eyes found Kael’s and narrowed.
"Hello, brother." Kael’s smile sharpened. "I would have said it’s good to see you again and I’m happy to see you, but I’m afraid I ain’t happy about seeing that ugly face of yours."
Marcus’s expression darkened like a storm rolling in.
"I would really love to have that tongue of yours fed to one of my dogs."
"Would you?" Kael tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "I didn’t know you still kept pets. Didn’t the last one run away? Can’t imagine why."
"You little—"
"Enough."
Thalia’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. Neither Kael nor Marcus had noticed her stand, but suddenly she was between them, her presence commanding imdiate attention.
"You boys really love to argue." Her tone carried the weariness of soone who’d witnessed this exact scenario too many tis. "Co on, it’s a big day. We’re here to watch our little siblings. Two of them made it to the team, and we might see better results than yours."
She looked directly at Marcus as she said it.
"After all, you were benched for most of the last tournant."
Oh.
Kael’s smirk spread slow and vicious.
Marcus’s face reddened. "It’s because of that Du Lac bastard, Alex—"
"Well." Kael didn’t let him finish. "You should have been captain then."
"YOU—"
"THAT’S ENOUGH." Thalia’s voice cracked like a whip, and even Blade 11 shifted slightly behind her. "Why can’t you both just be like Isabella? She made the team too, and she’s not embarrassing herself in front of half the Vorn family representatives."
She took a breath. Composed herself. When she spoke again, her voice was softer.
"Listen to . Both of you. You two make us proud today. Understood?"
Kael’s expression shifted—still confident, but with sothing genuine beneath it.
"Don’t worry." He stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. "I plan to give you a show that Marcus wasn’t able to give during his own turn."
"YOU—"
Kael was already walking away, Marcus’s sputtering fading behind him. He didn’t look back.
The Heaven’s Gate Academy preparation area was a private section beneath the main arena—sterile white walls, comfortable seating, a holographic display showing the tournant landscape in real-ti. The twelve students had gathered there over the past hour, so ditating, others reviewing techniques, most just trying to stay calm.
Kael stood at the center, expression serious.
"Listen up."
Conversations died. Eyes turned to him.
"The seven people I’m picking for this round are—" He paused, letting the tension build. "Karacus. Myself. Mason. Zara. Sage. Rue. And finally, Caelan."
Silence.
Then: "What the fuck?"
Yenna was on her feet, ice crackling around her fists, frost spreading across the floor beneath her feet. Her eyes were wide with disbelief—and sothing that looked dangerously close to betrayal.
"What about ?"
Kael didn’t flinch.
"This round isn’t about battle prowess." He kept his voice calm, asured. "Well, maybe a bit of it. But based on the environnt we’ll be entering—constant lightning strikes, violent wind currents, unstable terrain—we need people with great physical endurance. I picked the people with the best physiques in the group."
He gestured toward Karacus. "Dragon-kin. Obvious." Toward Mason. "War God bloodline. Enhanced cellular structure." Toward Zara. "Snake-kin. Cold-blooded. Different biology, better environntal resistance." Toward Sage and Rue. "Beast-kin. Nine-tailed fox halo provides significant physical enhancent." Toward Caelan. "Body cultivator even though it is low. Sword intent reinforces his physical form."
Then he turned back to Yenna.
"It would have been a harder decision, but Vice Principal Dubois’s training in space helped pick easily." His voice softened slightly. "You collapsed fourth, Yenna. Your ice is incredible, but your body isn’t built for extended environntal punishnt. Not yet."
Yenna’s fists trembled. The frost spread another inch.
Then Kael moved.
He closed the distance between them in two steps and placed his hand on her shoulder—gently, but with enough pressure to anchor her. His other hand found Aria’s shoulder, pulling her closer.
"Don’t worry." His voice carried to everyone now—not a command, but sothing warr. "Everyone will get their turn to shine in this tournant. And we are going to win."
His smile was genuine this ti.
"That I can promise you."
The frost receded. Yenna’s shoulders sagged—still frustrated, but no longer on the edge of explosion. Aria’s tense posture relaxed under his hand.
Even Cassian, sitting in the corner with his eternal cup of tea, raised an eyebrow in sothing like approval.
Author’s note: What’s with this dude and tea?
Kael released them and reached into his storage ring, pulling out twelve small devices—circular, black, about the size of a coin.
"Communication devices. VP Dubois provided them." He distributed them quickly, each student catching theirs with practiced reflexes. "When we enter the region, only five people need to reach the portal. Seven of us will be scattered across the starting zone—we can communicate through these, coordinate movent, warn each other about threats."
He paused, letting the weight of the next words settle.
"We may have to engage in combat. Other academies will try to stop us from reaching the exit portals. The environnt itself will try to kill us. Three hours sounds like a lot, but in that kind of terrain—"
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.
Cassian sipped his tea, eyes half-closed, expression perfectly indifferent.
The countdown tir on the wall ticked down.
1:38:47... 1:38:46... 1:38:45...
Kael looked at his team.
"Get ready."
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