Sorn woke to the familiar feeling of ice beneath him. His mind was slow to gather itself as he spread his legs across the floating platform, and his body felt heavy. Interestingly though, this pain was gone.

"You woke up faster than I thought you would."

Sorn turned his head towards the voice and found Neville sitting beside him. Sorn had recognized him as a mere lackey, but Neville had made it to the final round, unlike the man he served.

Sorn brushed his hand over his stomach where the needle had pierced him. The wound was completely gone.

“You healed me,” Sorn said.

Neville didn’t look at him directly. Instead, he chose to keep his eyes peeled forwards as he stared into the unknown. “It’s not like I wanted to,” he muttered. “Toren asked me to. He said it was a deserving reward for the winner of a fair fight.”

Then, he faced Sorn, who saw eyes that burned with resentment.

“But it wasn’t a fair fight!” he spat. “You have those weird abilities no one understands. If Toren had gone all out from the start, he would have won. But he took your cheap tricks for granted and that’s how you got him!”

Sorn met his glare but felt nothing in return. He was too exhausted to care about this childish outburst. He didn’t have enough sympathy for Toren to care about his friend.

Though he didn’t know what to make of the Dancing Blade commanding his lackey to heal Sorn. Was he meant to take it as a nice gesture? Was Toren trying to make amends now that Sorn had beaten him?

He exhaled slowly, letting the tension roll off his shoulders.

“Thanks for healing me,” he said simply.

Neville stood up and turned away without a word. He leaped off onto the nearby empty platform, his boots barely making a sound as he landed.

Then, Sorn noticed the space behind him was unoccupied. That’s right— Aria was to go after him.

His gaze dropped to the colosseum below. Two figures moved within it. They were Aria and Jaden, the last remaining participants of the Dancing Blade Clan. Their movements were fluid, of course. It was like a waltz of death beneath the midday sun. Jaden wielded a more traditional needle, while Aria frolicked with twin short knives. She was both faster and sharper as she carved the space between them with a careless grace.

Sorn had suspected something for a while. He believed while Aria carried the same name as Toren, she didn’t share the loyalty or closeness someone like Neville had with him. She had been surprised when Neville revealed his ability as if she hadn’t trained beside him for years. It was a telltale sign that she had never truly been in that circle.

After about a minute Aria sighed out of boredom. Then she kicked upwards. Her foot caught Jaden beneath the chin, sending him backwards. Then she dashed, grabbing his head and slamming his skull into the ground.

There was moment of silence. Then Faron’s voice rang out, announcing the fight to be over.

Aria didn’t even look once at her fallen opponent before bounding back toward her platform. There was a bounce in her step as if she had just finished a pleasant warm-up.

“Now that we’re getting to the top numbers, the fights will be a lot quicker!” she declared to Sorn as she hopped next to him.

“I see,” Sorn replied. “Well, congratulations on winning.”

Aria tossed her head, her pigtails swaying behind her. “I don’t need praise.”

For a short time after, there was some silence.

Sorn’s thoughts drifted back to his fight. Toren’s mask and its shifting colors, the exhilaration that came with the back and forth, and that moment his body had moved as if it belonged to someone else. Above it all, a name lingered like a whisper just beyond reach.

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“Mercury”

He could feel the word, or was it a name--- whatever it was, it was hiding somewhere in the depths of his mind. The harder he reached for a concrete answer, the further it slipped away. Was that strange man playing with his mind again?

Just how long do you plan on doing this?

He tried to vocalize his thoughts as loud as he could, but he only received silence. He felt as though he was being mocked.

His hand flexed absently as he let another thought settle. He had beaten Toren. If someone had asked him weeks ago whether such a thing was possible, he would have never imagined it.

But now that far away imagination was a reality. The victory should have felt monumental. But instead, it sat hollow in his chest. There were no cheers, no glances of respect, nor were there whispers of awe. Aria hadn’t said a word about his fight, and Neville had denounced his victory. Perhaps things had died down while he was unconscious. Or were they ever alive in the first place?

He pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter. Recognition was fleeting compared to what lay ahead. His position in the final round was set.

His gaze lifted to where Faron had floated back to the middle. The next match was about to begin.

“Number four, Raven of the Spears, and number seventeen, Serene of the Marauders. Please enter the stage and prepare to face your opponent.”

A ripple passed through the crowd. Eager eyes darted between the remaining contenders.

Like Raven and Ren, Oden and Serene represented the two leading prodigies of their clans. They were stars meant to define a generation. Raven was an elite among elites. The “Silent Killer” was a name that carried weight beyond what any young Ice Elemental could ever hope to achieve. Meanwhile, Serene was the heir to the Marauders. She was the Storm Troll’s daughter, and for that reason alone, the epithet “Valkyrie” thundered louder than the “Armored Fist” ever could.

There was something else, however, that was causing this excitement. Of the ten battles, only four remained. Of the six who had advanced, there were two Marauders, two Dancing Blades, a Feline, and a Chain.

And no Spears.

The Spears were the foundation of the Fortress and yet, not a single one had made it through. Only Raven remained. Of course, Keilan and Kaen had yet to fight, but neither of them could represent the Spears on their own. Keilan was a Royal Child, and Kaen was both an heir and an exile. He was tied to a clan that seemed unwilling to claim him. He was someone who bore their name, but not their favor.

Then, Sorn realized something else— there was someone who had stood between him and Serene in the rankings. It was someone whose arrival had slipped past him, and so he had assumed it was Kaen. But it had been Jaden.

Which meant Kaen had already secured his place in the top three. As the realization struck, Sorn felt a blend of surprise and excitement. Kaen had been written off by everyone, including Oden.

Sorn’s attention turned back towards the fight as both competitors began to face each other.

Serene dwarfed her opponent, as she truly appeared as a figure of raw power. However, Raven was a different type of danger. Most women’s uniforms had skirts, but Raven chose to wear something else entirely. She had long, loose pants with fabric flowing around her legs. Every other uniform was white, but hers was pitch black like she was being trailed by shadows. Her top was a blouse with more strips of cloth at her back. Her untamed blue hair whipped about her shoulders, and her eyes had a predatory element to them.

"Even I would hesitate to face off against her," Aria said.

Serene’s hand tightened around the haft of her massive ice axe. To Sorn, the weapon would have been a burden, but to her, it was lighter than a feather. With a fluid motion, she raised it high before she swung it down with the force of a storm.

Then, in a smooth motion, Raven sidestepped the swing, but Serene wasn’t deterred. She aimed another strike, which Raven caught with her hands, avoiding the sharp end. However, the force had launched her backward.

Now with some space, the Spear stretched her arms out. From between the spaces of her outstretched hands, a long spear began to form. However, Sorn wasn’t sure if he could even call them “spears”. They were slender, far more than any Dancing Blade needle Sorn had seen. It looked as though it could be snapped with the slightest touch. More curious, however, were the ice wings that seemed to be attached to the weapons. They fluttered viciously, and three of the spears zipped towards Serene at an alarming rate.

However, the Valkyrie was prepared. Now dual-wielding two large axes, she dashed towards the approaching spears, crushing them as she propelled herself towards Raven.

Serene couldn’t see what Raven was doing, but everyone else could. Shouts rang out from the Marauders above, but no sound reached the bottom of the arena. Raven had discretely fired a spear backward while Serene tried to close the distance. With immaculate control, the spear had moved upwards out of Serene’s peripheral. It was so small, that Sorn was sure that if they didn’t have such a good angle of every one of Raven’s moves, they wouldn’t be able to catch sight of that thin spear.

Raven suddenly moved forward like a shadow, and she grabbed the Marauder by the hair, ripping Serene’s head backward. In that same consecutive movement, the spear was falling, perfectly timed so that Serene would have no time to react. She tried to rip away, but the spear was faster. It descended and landed straight into Serene’s eye socket.

Sorn winced as he saw her wail, the excruciating pain clear on her face. Raven covered her foot in ice, mercilessly kicking her in the stomach. Serene rolled a few times on the ice ground, blood trailing where she was previously. She didn’t move again.

Raven turned her back before the match was even officially called done. Oden had descended to rush over to his cousin, and as he crossed paths with Raven, she didn’t give a single glance in his direction. She had a look of quiet assurance as she floated back to her platform.

Oden, on the other hand, seemed to pause only for a moment before he made his way to Serene. Without a word, Oden knelt beside her and then lifted her. Without a single glance to anyone, he carried her back up to the platform.

Sorn felt a pang in his chest while watching the scene unfold. He hadn’t known Serene well, but seeing her like this left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had expected more from the onlookers, some shock, some gasp of disbelief at how quickly the battle had ended. There was only a quiet acceptance.

Serene was strong, sure, but Raven was something else entirely. And while it was fun to speculate the fight, they all knew who would reign as the true victor deep in their hearts.

A strange-looking man entered to take Serene away from Oden as the next match was announced.

“Number three, Crystal of the Royals, and number eighteen, Zacen of the Marauders. Please enter the stage and prepare to face your opponent.”