"So, you see," Sero said, finishing his story, "that's why I'm here. To compete in this stupid tournament, and I'm not even sure why. Maybe it's because I want to prove to myself that I can still do something. That my life hasn't been a complete waste."

"Well, there's the threat of that one evil organization–" Amaya cut off Nala's words with an elbow.

Tiero closed his eyes, continuing to squeeze Sero's hand. He chuckled weakly and took a ragged breath.

"Your life isn't a waste. I was wrong to try and push you to do something I thought would be beneficial to you. I made it worse by kicking you out. I just wanted you to be happy, but I was blinded by what I wanted for you that I never thought to hear what you wanted." Tiero opened his eyes and glanced at his son. "Do you hate me for everything that happened?"

Sero felt tears prick at his eyes as he shook his head. "No, Dad. I never hated you. I was just angry. I've missed you." He took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes. "It just hurt, you know? Losing mom, and then us having that fight. I just didn't want you to burn yourself out working like I did in my studies."

Tiero smiled softly. "It took me a long time to realize you were just looking out for me like I was trying to do for you. I always knew it was you who sent those anonymous deposits in my account."

"Yeah, well, I guess I didn't try to hide it," Sero smiled back. "Did you put it to good use?"

Tiero shook his head. "No, I put it in a savings account. Just in case you ever decided to come back home."

Sero felt the lump in his throat come back. An immense guilt washed over him as he thought back to the past. He had always thought his father only cared about his success, but their conversation now opened his eyes. Although he wasn’t sure he was ready to forgive his father, Sero felt some sort of reconciliation learning that his father never stopped caring about him.

"Speaking of home, I got a new place. Close to here," Sero cleared his throat. "As soon as you get better, you can move in with me. It's a nice place."

His father smiled gratefully, but there was a sadness lurking within his eyes.

"Sero, I don't think I'll ever get better."

"What?"

Tiero hesitated, giving Sero's hand another squeeze. "When the apocalypse happened, a lot of people died in the chaos. A large population became those Ascendants like you." He coughed, momentarily releasing his grip. "But, doctors across the world learned that those initial portals emitted some sort of toxic energy. The only ones who were unaffected were the Ascendants."

"Wait–"

"But for normal people like me, even spending a couple minutes near those portals is deadly. Apparently, the otherworldly toxins can really mess up your body. They call it an Outbreak Plague or something like that."

"Dad, don't tell me–"

"Thankfully, whenever those outbreaks happen now, the toxin levels aren't as bad. Still, I got caught up in one of the more dangerous ones on the day of the apocalypse." Tiero looked at Sero with a regretful smile. "The only treatments are a steady injection of recovery mana to fight off the infection, or a risky and expensive surgery to remove and replace affected parts with mana-enhanced organs."

Sero felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "You've been getting shots this whole time?"

His father nodded. "It's pricey, but I've been paying using the money I've saved up over the years. Honestly, I was planning on stopping since I can't afford the surgery, and I was giving up hope of seeing you again."

Sero looked at his father, his heart aching. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't believe that his father had been struggling this whole time and he had no idea. The anger he had felt towards his father for pushing him away dissipated, replaced by guilt and regret. He swallowed the lump in his throat, determined to make things right.

"Can't you use the money I sent you? I'm making a lot, so I can help pay the difference if it's not enough."

Tiero chuckled, wincing as he did so. "Son, I appreciate it, but even if you could afford it, the chances of me surviving are slim."

"That doesn't mean we should give up," Sero gritted his teeth. "The further I make it in the tournament, the more monetary rewards I get. How much is the surgery?"

Tiero smiled at his son's determination. "I made some inquiries. The surgery would cost about five hundred thousand gold. You've sent me roughly a hundred thousand."

"Fuck." Sero quickly calculated his finances. He was expecting five thousand from the first round, and he had a couple thousand in his account right now. Sero whirled around to Amaya. "How soon can I get that quarter million payment from our deal?"

"I'm- I'm already working on that." Amaya lowered her gaze. "Hopefully within a few days. But if not, I'll help you spot it."

"So will I," Nala spoke up as well. "I have a lot saved up."

"Thank you both," Sero said, feeling a weight lift off his chest. They didn't have to offer their own money, but he was grateful that they did. "I promise to take good care of you once I get that money. And after the tournament, I'll find a way to pay you back." He turned back to his father.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Dad, I promise. I'll see this through to the end and win the tournament. In the meantime, hang in there, ok? We'll pay for your surgery and everything. There’s a lot of stuff I think we need to talk about."

Tiero smiled, tears welling up in his eyes. "I love you, Sero. I've missed you so much. I'm proud of you." He wrapped his arms around his son, squeezing him tightly. Sero returned the embrace, his chest heaving as he fought back tears of his own after hearing the words he longed to receive. They remained that way for a long moment, sharing a quiet understanding that transcended words.

----------------------------------------

The three soon left, Sero making sure his father was in better condition before they departed. They were silent as they stepped into the night, the moon casting a soft glow over the city. Sero felt lighter, as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He glanced at Amaya, then at Nala. They both smiled at him, their eyes filled with understanding and support.

"Thanks for your help. You guys didn't have to, but I really appreciate it."

"Well, it's the first time I've ever seen you so determined," Amaya remarked. "Plus, I know how it feels to... see your family like that."

Sero felt another wave of guilt crash over him as he recalled how Amaya lost her family. He swore to himself to find a way to repay her later.

Amaya dropped Sero off at his new place, taking Nala with her to grab a drink. As he rode the elevator and entered his penthouse, Sero was faintly surprised seeing his stuff from his old apartment already transported over.

Deciding to redecorate his place later, Sero indulged in the room's facilities, taking a very long shower. After getting dressed, he lounged on his bed, glancing over towards his window at the view of the city. Despite the grand and luscious upgrade, Sero felt a growing sense of loneliness in the spacious bedroom.

"Aphiel, are you there?"

"Yes, champion?"

Sero took a moment to think. "What do you know about this Outbreak Plague?"

"Well, not more than what you were told. The energy generated from the portals is definitely toxic to regular mortals. Champions are immune because..." Aphiel hesitated. "The blessings they receive from gods is akin to a vaccine. A portal's energy is very similar to a god's divinity, which is likely why champions can tolerate whereas mortals are unable to accept that energy."

"So gods are like some sort of antibiotic for the portals?" Sero asked, intrigued.

"If that helps you understand it better, then yes."

"Interesting." Sero had a thought. "So, why do these portals or outbreaks or whatever occur?"

"That's-" Aphiel stopped herself. "That's something I cannot explain at the moment."

"What? Why not?"

"Well, you see, champion... it's complicated." Aphiel sounded reluctant. "There are many theories, but none have been proven. The most popular one is that the portals are a natural occurrence, a byproduct of the universe's expansion. As the cosmos grows, new portals appear, and with them, the potential for an outbreak. Some believe that the portals are created by a higher power, perhaps a god or gods, but again, there's no concrete evidence to support that claim."

Sero got the feeling Aphiel knew the real reason, but didn't want to share it. He sighed, choosing to table the topic for later.

"Fine," he turned over on his side. "Then, is there really no cure for my dad's sickness?"

There was a long moment of silence.

"Not in the sense that you'd think. As I said before, only champions are immune. If your father was somehow blessed by a god, then perhaps he would survive. Otherwise, the surgery I heard before seems the most plausible, since the mana-enhanced organs would certainly help condition him to the energy."

Sero considered this for a moment. "So, if I were to find a god, and convince them to bless my dad, would that work?"

"That's not how it works, champion." Aphiel sounded apologetic. "One cannot gain a blessing of a god just by asking for it. The god must choose to bless a champion through their own will. Furthermore, that champion must possess the ability to receive such blessings."

"Wait, so even if my dad somehow had a god choose him, he wouldn't become blessed if he doesn't have the ability to receive it? Then, what would've happened if I didn't have that ability?" Sero frowned, gaining more questions than answers.

"Champion, in the simplest way I can explain, this is how it works: Gods are able to tell who can and cannot receive blessings. A mortal's entire essence is laid bare to us, where we can see everything, even things you wouldn't be able to comprehend. I saw in you something I resonated with, so that's why I chose you."

"Technically, you chose someone else before me, and that's why I died-"

"But as for your father, even I can tell that he does not contain the ability to receive a blessing."

Sero sighed, defeated. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"I'm sorry," Aphiel said after a while. "But there is nothing else you can do."

Sero's heart sank. He felt a lump forming in his throat, threatening to choke him. "So, there's no hope for him?" He asked, clenching his jaw.

"All that's left is the surgery. I will pray that it works."

Though it wasn't what he wanted to hear, Sero knew that that was all he could hope for. It wasn’t fair, really. He had been doing fine so far, but with his father’s reappearance, Sero felt like the world wanted to see him crack. He still felt a slight resentment towards his father, but it was eclipsed by his desire to see him live.

Sero went quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts. All the anger and sadness he harbored towards his father was somewhat justified, but a part of him knew it was unfair to cling to those feelings after seeing him earlier. He took a deep breath, casting his thoughts away as he prepared to sleep.

"Thanks." He finally murmured.

"You're welcome. Good night, champion."

"Night, Aphiel."