With his arm healed, Riven sat cross-legged, meditating, his breaths steady as he mentally prepared for the next fight. The quiet was soon interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Silvia emerged from the ground-level entrance, her movements as poised as ever. Not a speck of dust marred her pristine clothes, nor did her silver rapier, holstered neatly at her left hip, show any sign of wear. Lili was nowhere to be seen—likely in the healer's ward. Just how strong are you, Silvia?

Riven couldn't dwell long on the thought as the hunter's voice cut through. "Good showing, you two. You've got thirty minutes before the finals. Rest well."

Not wanting to leave anything to chance, Riven settled back into his meditative stance, focusing inward. He had to be ready.

"It's time, kid."

The hunter's words broke through Riven's thoughts. He opened his eyes, greeted by the sight of the hunter holding up a glowing token, faint blue light emanating from it. Collecting himself, Riven nodded and stood, walking toward the entrance.

The arena looked unchanged, its familiar sight giving him a small boost of confidence. Stepping inside, he took his position, his body adopting a wide, taut combat stance. The referee gave the signal, but this time, Riven held back. Charging in recklessly had cost him in earlier fights. Instead, he channeled thirty percent of his mana, circulating it through his body.

Silvia didn't seem bothered. A small smile played on her lips as she unsheathed her rapier. "Let me show you what true power is," she said.

In an instant, she blurred toward him. Each stride was powerful yet so controlled that the ground barely shook beneath her. Riven struggled to keep up and quickly increased his mana output to fifty percent. Even then, her speed was overwhelming.

With a larger stride, Silvia closed the gap, her rapier aimed directly at his chest. The irregularity of her movement caught him off guard. Thinking quickly, Riven solidified his mana, the barrier preventing the blade from piercing too deeply. Seizing the moment, he lashed out with a kick aimed at her chest.

Silvia, unfazed, released her grip on the weapon, deftly evading to his right. Her palm lashed out toward his neck, and though Riven initially believed he could withstand the strike, a chilling sensation froze him in place. The icy aura set every hair on his body on edge. Instinctively, he increased his mana output and leapt back.

As he retreated, Silvia grabbed her rapier's hilt. Using his chest as leverage, she vaulted back, sending Riven stumbling. Disoriented, he barely managed to steady himself, expecting her to follow up. Instead, Silvia stood calmly, her rapier at the ready, a cold, thin smile on her face.

Damn it. How is she so fast yet still not out of energy? Frustration mounted as he realized he'd already burned through forty percent of his mana just to keep up.

Silvia's voice broke through his thoughts. "Your soul is powerful, but I'll show you why will and technique are superior."

She blurred toward him again, her movements unpredictable. Each step covered varying distances, keeping him on edge. Gritting his teeth, Riven brought sixty percent of his mana to bear. This time, he launched himself forward, hoping to disrupt her rhythm.

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But something was wrong. The closer he got, the more sluggish his movements became, as if his mana were grinding to a halt, like a rusted machine struggling to move. His limbs grew heavier, his reactions dulled.

Then Silvia appeared before him, exhaling a faint wisp of condensation. Frost clung to her left cheek, and her glowing silver eyes radiated an aura of despair so chilling it rooted him in place.

The last thing Riven saw before darkness claimed him was the icy glare of her unrelenting gaze.

Riven jolted awake, his surroundings unfamiliar. He lay in a bed, confusion swirling in his mind. Where am I? The match—what happened?

"Easy there."

The voice belonged to an old woman in healer's garb. She stood at the foot of his bed, examining a thin glass tablet inscribed with glowing runes.

"You forced all your mana out, causing you to pass out," she said matter-of-factly. "Oh and your frozen heart, that was a contributing factor as well."

Riven instinctively felt for his chest, relieved to find no lingering damage.

The healer chuckled. "You think I'd let anyone walk out of here with permanent damage? They pay me far too much for that. I have standards." With that, she disappeared down a corridor.

So I lost. The thought didn't sadden Riven. What stung was the gap in their abilities. Silvia's combat prowess was on an entirely different level. And that last move—how had she frozen his mana? Questions swirled, but answers eluded him.

A familiar figure rounded the corner. Jayce, his expression smug, bore the unmistakable look of someone about to say, I told you so.

"What's the deal with Silvia?" Riven asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jayce smirked, clapping a hand on Riven's shoulder. "Keep this between us," he said, prompting Riven to nod. Jayce sank into a couch beside the bed and continued, "She's a main family member, but her soul is veiled. The Frostveil family doesn't consider that sufficient. Since she's from the main branch, they exiled her here to prove she can outshine her siblings, even with a weaker soul."

Riven's eyes widened. "Does that mean all main branch members have flickering souls?"

Jayce nodded. "The main branches maintain a high soul lineage. Their children often inherit both parents' soul types. But once in a while, a black sheep like her emerges."

Riven committed the information to memory, shuddering at the thought of facing someone like Silvia but with a purer soul.

Jayce rose, waving as he walked off. "See you tomorrow at the beast taming ceremony."

The reminder stirred Riven's excitement, momentarily washing away his weariness. Leaping from the bed, he landed on his feet and began the long trek home.

The arena was nearly deserted. Only a few dregs of sunlight clung to the horizon, casting long shadows across the empty seats. I must've been out for hours.

As he passed the now-quiet stalls, vendors were busy dismantling their setups, likely preparing for one last sales pitch at the main market. Tomorrow's ceremony was private, reserved for the top ten participants, their families, and today's invigilators.

Riven arrived home, half-expecting his grandfather to be waiting next to the double doors. But the house was silent. I guess he said all he needed to yesterday.

The main building glowed warmly, lanterns of varying shades of orange illuminating its façade. At the entrance, Corvax stood, his massive wings gesturing for Riven to enter.

Riven obeyed without question. Inside, a large cake dominated the room, his family standing behind it, their faces alight with pride.

For a moment, Riven forgot everything—the fights, his failures, the weight of his goals. His family had always been his anchor, and their smiles reminded him why he sought power: to protect them, as they had always protected him.

"Been a while, Riven. Good job out there."

A voice drew his attention. A young man, around twenty, stepped forward from behind their parents.

"Razer? I thought your expedition wouldn't end for months!"

Razer grinned, his laugh infectious. "I pulled a few strings. But I'll need to head back soon."

Riven embraced his older brother tightly, their bond evident in the unspoken words between them. Razer handed him a knife, gesturing to the cake.

Forgetting the world's troubles, Riven joined his family in celebration. Together, they enjoyed a simple yet profound moment, gorging on cake and basking in the warmth of being together once more.