The battlefield was swept clean within the hour. What had once been scorched and littered with the debris of a hundred clashes was now restored, gleaming beneath the intense lights of the arena. Platforms rebuilt, banners hung, and spiritual flower wreaths and bouquets were strewn across the stage. The raw destruction of the final match had been erased—at least on the surface. Yet the mory lingered in every heart present.
Cassian Lysander had been carried off, limp and unconscious, his dragons following with agitation after dical attention didn’t imdiately wake him up. No explanation was offered for his prolonged unconscious state, with many assuming it might have been caused by Jade’s contract beast. First Celestial’s dical team slipped away with their captain, leaving the audience with whispers and unease.
The announcers, voices wavering at first, eventually rallied. "But despite that shocking end," one said, his tone rising, "there can be no doubt. History has been made today!" The other picked up, steadier now: "For the first ti in nearly a decade, Dark Moon College claims the championship of the National Tournant!"
The roar of the crowd crashed down like thunder. Flags bearing the black and silver crest of Dark Moon waved high, drowning out the lingering murmurs of confusion.
The stage was prepared for the closing ceremony. Rows of officials, noble sponsors, and academy representatives lined the elevated seating. At the center, the ceremonial dais glowed with imperial symbols, projecting the weight of tradition.
Dark Moon’s fighters stepped onto the stage, greeted by deafening cheers. They stood tall—tired, battered, but proud. Their silhouettes seed larger than life beneath the lights.
First Celestial was announced as runner-up. Their team appeared, but the absence of Cassian Lysander was glaring. They walked stiffly, faces unreadable, unable to match the overwhelming energy radiating from the surroundings.
"And now," the announcer’s voice rang, "your champions: Dark Moon College!"
The crowd erupted. The five fighters that represented Dark Moon in Phase Two were called forward one by one to receive the dals for coming in first for Phase Two, the respective dals for the within-year rankings in Phase One, and also a singular trophy given to Jade to represent their being the first in the tournant overall.
Jade, as the captain, was naturally first in line to receive the trophy, her calm composure intact despite the waves of applause and the sudden ending to her last match. The announcers praised her cunning and decisiveness, marveling at how her Shadowstrike Jaguar had seemingly ambushed Cassian from behind to end the match. The crowd chanted her na, thrilled at the notion of such a sharp, calculated strike. But Jade felt awkward, even sweating slightly beneath the lights. Through her communication with her contract, she knew the jaguar hadn’t actually acted. The credit being heaped on her didn’t belong to her, and though she masked her unease with composure, the unanswered mystery of Cassian’s collapse gnawed at her.
Kain followed. His steps were steady, his figure straight and unbent. Few in the audience knew that not long ago he had been on the edge of collapse himself, his body under strain from back-to-back duels, especially when Cassian’s Coronaflow Dragon had pressed him hard. However, thanks to Queen’s royal jelly, there was no trace left. No bandages, no weakness. He was able to put on his best appearance when going on stage. The announcers lauded him as the tournant’s hidden MVP—without his battles against Isolde and Cassian, Jade’s path would have been far steeper. His face remained unreadable, but in his chest there was a quiet pride.
Serena was third in line, walking right behind him. Upon seeing the back right in front of her straighten up slightly and a deep red blush crawl up Kain’s face at the announcers’ praise, her usually cold gaze ward with mischief. As she received her dal from the presenter, she leaned closer than necessary, her chest brushing his back as her warm breath teased his ear. "Getting a little red, aren’t you?" she whispered.
Kain stiffened, his ears flushing an even deeper crimson, only for the sudden sensation of being plunged into ice water to wash over him. His gaze was drawn to one of the VIP boxes, where a faint silhouette sat—an older man with stark white hair and pale, piercing eyes that seed to skewer him from across the arena. A cold reminder struck him: Serena’s nine-star grandfather had been watching the entire ti.
Kain’s back imdiately went ramrod straight as he felt the weight of that gaze press down on him. He kept a careful distance from Serena while sweating under the pressure, forcing himself to stand still as the remaining mbers of the overall Top 5 collected their awards.
When, at last, Reed Venn stepped forward, the final mber of Dark Moon’s overall Top 5, the presenter blinked in confusion, his smile faltering as though he had never seen Reed before. A murmur spread through the audience—wait, who is that? Reed gave a long-suffering sigh, muttering that his Gift was working a little too well. The presenter, scrambling, still placed the dal around his neck, but by the ti Reed turned to wave, half the crowd had already forgotten him again, looking away in disinterest. Reed trudged off stage in silence, resigned to the fact that even his big mont would slip instantly from mory. The mont was quietly humorous—tragic for him, but almost comically fitting for soone cursed with perpetual irrelevance.
--------------------------
With the tournant done, there was no longer anything keeping Kain and the others in the Capital.
Before departing, Kain tied up several loose ends.
He discreetly handed over the fully charged Source energy storage device to Pheneos, Dorian Anvil’s student. Since first obtaining the device, Kain had been steadily filling it with energy at a rate that wouldn’t harm Pangea.
Pheneos, in turn, provided him with an empty replacent storage device to fill for the next ti they t.
Alongside it, Kain also passed over a storage ring containing the remaining life tal, mined by the dwarves on Pangea, that he owed Halreth, settling the debt he owed to the Exalted Grandmaster Blacksmith.
Through Serena, he had already heard that Dorian kept his promise—an introduction to Exalted Grandmaster Halreth had taken place via Serena’s father. The grandmaster was intrigued by Kain’s work and agreed to work with him, so Kain knew he could pass the tals on to Halreth through Pheneos as well.
In exchange, Pheneos explained that a detailed "nu" of powerful items would soon be prepared for Kain to choose from—compensation for the Source energy he had stored and the tals he had supplied.
---------------------
Kain and the other tournant participants were then given the choice of imdiately returning to Dark Moon College to receive their rewards from the College for their stellar performance—a trip to the private vaults within the College to select from like last year.
But Kain wasn’t in any rush.
The sumr vacation had mostly passed with him training for the National Tournant, and he wanted to spend the little ti remaining with his family. Thankfully, his family had been relocated to Dark Moon City and so, if he wanted, he could conveniently drop by the College to select his reward later. For now, he wanted to focus on his family.
Serena, anwhile, stayed behind in the Capital to spend more ti with her own family. She promised to update him on any new developnts with Halreth and Dorian’s collaboration.
Now Kain made his way toward the semi-public teleportation array in the noble district of the Capital. The term ’semi-public’ was misleading—only nobles and those granted special permission were ever allowed to use it as each activation consud a fortune in resources.
For this departure, the College had arranged a single transmission to Dark Moon City, grouping together not just Kain but also other team mbers, support staff, and even a handful of Dark Moon spectators who had secured the right to return with them. The expense of the array ant that no one could expect it to be booted up for their sake alone.
In the past, whenever Kain had traveled in a smaller group or by himself, he’d needed the College or the Order to secure the permissions and funding to make it possible. Missing this window would an resigning himself to the long train ride back.
As the platform ca into view, he braced himself for the nauseating pull of teleportation as he waited for the array to be booted up, that strange wrenching sensation that always made his stomach lurch.
Just then, a familiar voice called out—Elias, grinning as he waved. Sohow he had finagled permission to join the teleportation party after an assistant professor had discreetly placed (and won) a bet at his booth, earning him favor. They fell into casual conversation, trading jabs and small talk, when suddenly Kain’s attention snagged on a figure in the passing crowd.
Deep purple hair, unmistakable even in the sea of people.
His breath hitched, heart thudding painfully. His lips parted in disbelief.
"Airalai?" he whispered.
Reviews
All reviews (0)