Chapter 189

Kana had underestimated the annual tournament.

She knew that now, standing beneath the muted glow of winter light filtering through the arena’s latticework. The festival looked simple from the outside—students duel in groups, cheers rising, dust and colors swirling—but beneath the noise ran a ruthless competition. You couldn’t go all out early. Not if you wanted to win the next rounds. Skills shown or used  too soon could give your opponents ideas to prepare and counterattack them.

She could already feel it brushing at the edges of her thoughts. That creeping exhaustion that stalked every fighter who stepped carelessly into the first rounds. Especially when they had no choice but to go all out.

If not for the Duke’s early preparation, they would have burned out by now. She could taste it in the air—the physical and mental exhaustion of each participant. She was certain of it. Some of their opponents had that look already—slightly dulled eyes, slower breathing, postures that said stamina slipping grain by grain.

And the next day? With a much stronger group waiting?

No. They would lose. Anyone would, facing monsters like Chelle Pint’s group. A team built for duel.. Not to mention Mica’s group—rumoured to be the winner this year, even though she didn’t witness her prowess yet, getting a second place in this kind of tough competition says a lot.  Groups trained in the dungeons together, with synergy that felt less like teamwork and more like a single creature with many limbs.

Kana couldn’t blame anyone for failing here.

Just in case…

If the worst came to worst, she would simply buy the ring. Cost be cursed. Third place—whoever held it, she would take it off their hands. The thought settled sharp and firm. She was even considering.. stealing the ring.

Stone grated above. She looked up.

Over a dozen of [Mage] gathered, hands raised, runes swirling at their fingertips. The ground shuddered. Walls of stone surged upward, dividing the arena into five soaring sections. Another cloaked figure passed between them, enchanting each wall with a faint silver sheen.hard-dampening runes, she guessed. Enough to not be taken down by any skills.

The next fights happened almost at the same time on the Arena which was now divided into five separate parts. Kana was confused at first but it seemed the crowd were used to it.

A roar echoed above as the next round ended.

The victors stepped out, the older ones. Most of them were either fourth or third year students. Kana pressed her lips together. Their raw strength wasn’t the concern. It was their coordination, honed by years and shared battles. A rhythm her team only recently learned.

With the arena carved apart, the space felt confined.

Kana exhaled and went to the participants’ room. The guard nodded her in—she was, after all, still part of the main event.

Inside, the space hummed with layered conversations. Groups clustered together, whispering through their strategies. The ceiling sagged low enough that many called it the basement, though it wasn’t truly underground. Still, it had the trapped feeling of one.

[High Awareness] flared.

Voices sharpened instantly in her mind. Noise from the crowd finally lessened.

Discussions of counters. Attempts to predict her team’s coordination.

And Suri… being labeled as a melee fighter with stealth capabilities.

Kana winced.

If only they knew. If Suri decided to show her new ability here, every strategy built against her would crumble like sand losing its shape.

“Kana!”

Suri and Yuri waved from a corner.

Kana blinked. They look relaxed?  As if this was some leisurely morning and not a battle creeping closer with every heartbeat.

Suri leaned back, idly rolling a pebble between her fingers. Yuri chatted beside her with the calm of someone discussing weekend plans rather than combat. Boots? Kana had no idea why it was their topic.

The boys were gathered nearby, deep in talk about timing, angles, and hidden signals.

Adam towered over Rin, demonstrating something with slow, deliberate gestures. And Rin—Rin, who once flinched at the idea of joining the frontline—was leaning forward with bright eyes, absorbing every word.

Kana felt a quiet warmth unfurl in her chest.

Rin is enjoying this.

Rin, meeting the moment head-on with that strange spark only she could muster.

Kana had expected fear.

But what she saw was something else entirely. Rin was after all quite a shy type in front of new people but.. not anymore. I guess?

“Are you going to fight again for another?” Kana asked, curiosity threading through her voice.

Roy shook his head, his posture loose but his eyes scanning the room like a hound looking for a misplaced scent. “No. Usually they split the arena into four sectors and drag the first round across two days.” His neck stretched a little farther, searching. “But since they carved it into five this year, tomorrow becomes the second round. Still, we stay here. Someone will come down with our next opponent. Gives us a bit of time to breathe… and panic.”

The room buzzed with the low hum of nerves. Students sat slouched against the walls, others pacing or murmuring strategies. The winter air seeped in through the stone, crisp and dry, giving the room a faint chill that made every exhale puff like a ghost.

Kana’s eyes drifted toward Clint.

He sat on one of the benches, shoulders slumped forward, looking like a wilted banner after a storm. His hands hung between his knees, and every few breaths he let out a long, exhausted sigh.

Kana frowned. Is it the skill?

Did [Borrowed Health] leave a strange after effect?

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Clint?”

Clint lifted his head, eyes tired but clear. “We won,” he said, exhaling as though the words weighed more than the victory. “But my parents didn’t see it. I sent a letter, but it probably reached them only this morning.” His shoulders sagged. “They missed everything.”

Kana felt her own tension loosen, relief warming through her. Not physical strain. Not backlash from the skill. Just a boy disappointed his moment of glory didn’t have an audience.

She leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “Cheer up.”

Her whisper brushed his ear like a secret breeze. “Remember—you’re getting a gold coin after this.”

Clint froze, then nodded with stiff determination. “Right…”

His face, however, flushed into a color that could rival a ripe tomato.

Kana hid her smile behind a sip of breath. The boy looked one heartbeat away from melting straight through the bench though Kana had no idea it had nothing to do with the gold coin.

….

There were forty fights scheduled that day, enough to drown the arena in motion from morning until the pale winter sun began to slide west. Kana should have stayed in the participants’ basement room like the others. That was the rule. But not for her as part of the main event. So she slipped into the coliseum stands with the steady certainty of someone doing what needed to be done.

From here, above the shifting tide of spectators, she could see everything.

The winter air felt thin as parchment, sharp against her lungs. The coliseum floor below had been reshaped again—broad swells of artificial sand dunes curled like frozen waves across the battlefield. Their pale ridges caught the light, making the arena look almost quiet, almost peaceful.

It was a lie.

The next heartbeat shattered it.

She watched the fights unfold one after another. Skill after skill, clashing like storms colliding. Some were loud, exploding against the sand in waves of color and pressure. Others were quiet and horrifying in their elegance.

A prison-like chain woven from condensed mana that snapped shut like a jaw.

A binding thread invisible to the eye but unbreakable once it coiled around a limb.

A compulsive whisper that tugged an opponent’s will sideways.

And the stone-skin curse—she didn’t even catch the activation, only the moment a boy froze mid-stride, expression locked, body turning immobile as a statue.

Kana felt her gut tighten each time something unfamiliar unfolded before her.

The more she watched, the more conflicted she became.

Not frightened.

Conflicted… because every new skill painted another weakness in their team. Another crack she had never accounted for. Another demand for impossible preparation.

And all the [Mage]…

Their destructive spells churned the dunes into molten shapes before immediately cooling the sand back into glass. Flashes, bursts, lances of light and thunder. It was a miracle no one died. Perhaps the enchanted necklaces were doing more than anyone publicly admitted.

Kana shifted her gaze to the side of the arena, where arena supports rushed in and out like tireless shadows. She spotted Elle York immediately—her aura pulsed differently, bright and steady, like a small star placed deliberately on the battlefield. Elle never joined the tournament as a fighter, but her presence here felt almost like another pillar of the arena.

Defeated students filtered into the crowd, still breathing heavily, faces carrying a strange blend of bitterness and awe. They joined the spectators with the same robes they’d worn into battle, some torn, some stained with dust or soot.

Kana’s eyes caught one in particular.

Valdis.

He stood among them, staring blankly at the arena. His face surprisingly went back to normal as if nothing happened—no swelling, no bruises, not even the faintest trace of the humiliation he’d taken from Suri’s fists. Elle must have healed him. But his expression… that was untouched.

His body was mended yet his mind… was not.

Kana let her gaze slide off him. The crowd roared suddenly, pulling her attention back toward the center of the coliseum.

A name echoed through the crowd, sharp and electrifying.

Mica.

Kana felt her heartbeat quickened. She had waited for this—Mica rarely participated in public duels, except for the tournament. 

This time, she would finally see her in action with her own eyes.

Kana leaned forward as the sand shifted below, stirred by the morning breeze. The arena brightened as a cluster of mage-lights flared to life, scattering sharp winter radiance across the dunes. A hush swept through the spectators as footsteps echoed from the tunnel.

And Mica stepped into view.

Kana’s breath thinned.

Mica didn’t walk so much as descend into the arena, her silhouette framed by drifting grains of artificial sand that glittered like powdered frost. The gauntlets on her forearms gleamed with a metallic sheen—heavy plates traced with flowing runes, half restraint and half proclamation.

Not a sword in sight.

Kana blinked. I thought she was using a sword? That wasn’t a simple swap of weapons. Sword users didn’t abandon their blades unless something monumental shifted in their core training. Yet Mica looked utterly at ease, rotating one wrist as if warming up for a spar rather than a public match.

Then the first clash erupted.

Ten students rushed her, skill light flaring like a wave of lanterns. Mica didn’t answer with flame or frost or any skill Kana recognized. She simply moved.

Pure strength. Pure speed.

A blur of motion, a crack of air, and the nearest student folded as if clipped by a boulder. Another staggered backward, their necklace breaking in a flash. Mica pivoted, her gauntlets whistling through the air—no wasted flourishes, no signs of strain. It was hand-to-hand combat Kana had never seen before, precise enough to feel rehearsed, yet brutal enough to shatter any formation the students tried building. 

Each strike sounded as if it carried the weight of something far older than academy training. 

Kana frowned again. All of her teammates are.. supports?

Mica… did she really tame that egg? The one from the Tavis Titan?

If the rumors were true, then that creature’s monstrous resilience… its raw physical might…

Suddenly, everything about this made sense. Too much sense.

But still—

I thought she used a sword?

Mica didn’t look like she had forgotten it. She looked like she had moved beyond it. She might be on par with Boris.

Post note:

Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂