[Kitsu's POV]
"So they said a level 800 is in here," I muttered, rolling my shoulders as I glanced at Mom walking beside me. My tail twitched lazily behind me, but my ears were perked in anticipation.
"Yeah, they said this should be the strongest group out of the four," Mom replied matter-of-factly, her lips curling into a small smile. She always had that tone when she was trying to make me pay more attention than I felt like giving.
"Only because of one person?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her, not sure whether to take the rumors seriously.
"No, there are quite a few angels in it as well," Mom explained with a shrug.
I clicked my tongue, unimpressed. "Yeah, so? They aren't very strong themselves, though. They always talk themselves up, but half of them break down the second you push hard enough."
"It depends on what class they have." Mom's counter was calm, but her tone suggested she was baiting me into an argument.
I sighed and shook my head again. "Yeah, but most holy classes are classified as rare, which means they generally have low stats." Some of them are higher, sure, but none have legendary classes. That's the real difference. Rare's good for support, but not when you're aiming for dominance." Even saying it out loud made the whole rumor feel inconsistent. If this group's strength hinged on a few winged idiots with rare classes, then it wouldn't amount to much.
"Yes, but rare classes are still good if they put in enough training," Mom said, smiling at me like she knew she'd caught me in my trap.
"True, true," I admitted grudgingly. "However, there is a reason the federation has yet to win a battle against the Draigs." My sarcasm was sharp, and Mom laughed at the bite in my tone.
"Haha."
"Now then," I said, trying to shake off the lecture before it dragged on. "Are we going to the VIP section or the normal stands?" I wasn't sure where she was leading me.
"Oh, the special VIP section, of course," Mom said with a grin. She loved pulling me into these things.
"Okay, let's go then. The battle will start any time now." I could feel a low buzz of excitement under my skin. Strong enemies meant potential entertainment, and I needed that.
"Kitsuna, remember what I told you," Mom said suddenly, her voice turning firm.
"Yes, yes, there is always someone stronger than you in life. I know that by heart already; give it a rest," I said quickly, annoyed. She had this habit of hammering lessons into me like I was still ten years old.
"I'm just making sure," Mom said, grinning at my scowl.
"Ah, here we go. Go down there and turn left and go up," she instructed, nudging me forward like a mother bird pushing a chick out of the nest.
"Okay, but why must I go first?" I muttered, feeling weird about her literally shoving me ahead.
"Just go."
"Fine." I groaned and obeyed, leading the way through the corridors, following her instructions like a half-obedient child.
After about five minutes of climbing stair after stair, weaving through guards and servants stationed along the way, Mom pointed at a tall set of doors decorated with heavy iron trim.
I raised an eyebrow but stepped forward and pushed them open. Instantly, sharp whistles cut through the air as several daggers flew straight at me.
The surprising part was their speed—they came at me fast, far faster than any ordinary thug could throw. But not fast enough. I flicked my wrist, letting a thin veil of wind catch and redirect them, the blades clattering harmlessly against the stone wall.
"Tsk, she used a human shield," a gruff male voice said in annoyance, as if I'd spoiled his little test. He didn't even bother to stand—he just leaned back into his seat again.
"Hello everyone, how are you doing?" I asked cheerfully, brushing the air of hostility aside as Mom finally came out from behind me.
"We already said hello, but we are doing well," the leading female said, standing and coming closer with calm, deliberate steps.
"Oh, that's good to hear." I tilted my head before glancing back at Mom. "So who are these guys?"
"Well, they are special generals," Mom explained, her voice edged with amusement.
"Yes, I presume so," I said, studying the three. My eyes immediately picked out the hierarchy.
One was a female Oni, her movements graceful yet dangerous. Despite her elegance, I could tell in a heartbeat—she was the sharpest blade in the room, the real threat.
The furry guy who had spoken first looked like someone had glued a bear pelt to a man. Human, yes, but with so much hair he resembled a stuffed toy. A dangerous stuffed toy, maybe, but still.
The last one hadn't even looked at me since I entered. His focus was locked on the arena below with almost religious intensity.
I nodded at the Oni and extended my hand for a shake.
"Oh, you're not introducing yourself," she said slyly while shaking my hand.
"No point. I know you've been following me around a few times," I said with a small smile.
"Oh, you knew." She looked genuinely surprised.
I didn't reply, but my grin widened.
"Oh, she got you, Samantha," Mom said, laughing loudly.
"Heh, it seems so," Samantha said with a grin of her own.
"Alright, guys, get to your seats; the tournament will almost start," the quiet man finally spoke, his tone clipped and precise.
"The commentators aren't even in their booth yet," I pointed out, glancing across the arena.
"They will be here in three seconds," the man said flatly, not even sparing me a glance.
And, like clockwork, three seconds later, the booth door opened and Kayda and another announcer stepped inside.
"So you're like a sensor or something," I asked, intrigued, dropping down into the seat next to him. Mom and Samantha settled on the other side.
"You can say that," the man said evenly, neither confirming nor denying.
"Huh, there is still so much I need to learn about what classes exist in this world," I chuckled, leaning back.
"You will never know all of them," he said, finally turning his head. His eyes shifted from purple to green, then back again, like the tide of some strange power.
"Oh wow, those eyes really give no privacy to other people," I said, chuckling knowingly.
"What?" Samantha muttered, her eyes wide. The man himself froze, his shock visible for the first time.
"How?" he asked, his expression breaking into disbelief.
"Oh well, there are many things that exist," I said casually. "Eyes that change color can mean a lot. Seeing as you have sensor abilities, I just assumed your eyes are the reason. I believe that the color of your eyes affects their abilities. I shrugged.
"Stacy, you've got a good successor here," the man said suddenly, grinning at me with sharp approval.
"Who said I will be the one taking over? I actually thought of giving Zagan that job," I said sarcastically. But the wave of killing intent that followed wasn't sarcastic at all.
"If you do, I will rip him apart as fast as you breathe," the gruff, hairy guy muttered darkly.
"I can breathe quite slowly if needed," I joked with a wide grin, unfazed.
"Tsk, you must be blood," the man said, glancing between me and Mom.
"Haha," Mom and I laughed together at his observation.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. "Let us begin the group four battle royal!"
"Ah, finally they are starting," I chimed, my grin widening as the announcer's voice boomed.
"Can all the contestants come to the arena?" The announcer's voice echoed over the mic, the crowd roaring in response.
"Man, I hope it lasts longer than the Kitsuna and Amaris battles," Samantha sighed, crossing her arms.
"What? Mine lasted quite long," I protested, giving her an incredulous look.
"No, no, it did not. Amari's fight was by far the fastest so far, and then yours. Most battles for the under-16s are over twenty minutes long, not just five," she explained, shaking her head at me.
"Seriously, that long?" I blinked, surprised, glancing at Mom for confirmation.
"Yes, normally it's like that. But with all the Marquis house children this year, it was bound to go faster than normal," Mom said, shrugging.
"Well, there are none in the last group, so you never know—it might be quite a long battle," I said, chuckling, secretly hoping for something enjoyable.
"Yeah, with a possible level 800 in it, I doubt it," Samantha said, her tone dry.
"Well, you never know. Maybe it's just some common class kiddy that decided to come and show off," I laughed, though I didn't even believe myself.
"As if. There is no way a common class can even get to level 800," Samantha scoffed, shaking her head.
"Never say never," I said with a grin.
"I guess that's true; it can happen," Mom added, giving me a knowing look.
"Oh, here he is," Samantha said suddenly, pointing toward the arena floor.
A cluster of angels descended in formation, their armor gleaming. And in the center of them walked a boy—slim, poised, with an aura of confidence that was far too polished for someone his age.
"Heh, to think they would send their little prodigy out to us," Mom said, laughing hysterically.
"Mind explaining?" I asked, frowning.
"Well, that person is actually sixteen years old, and he is also a reincarnation," Mom said, her grin widening.
"What?" My ears flicked forward in disbelief.
"His name is Logan Major Peter, an orphan. I don't know his previous name, though," Mom explained, clearly enjoying my reaction.
"I see. So he was adopted by the angel faction?" I said, piecing it together.
"Probably."
"Well, with the angels circling him like that, I would think so," Samantha added, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it seems the contestants are ready. Let's begin the blood splatters!!!" The commentator roared, bells ringing to signal the start.
The arena floor shook with the sound of weapons drawn, the crowd exploding into cheers. My grin widened. This… this might actually be fun.