Silence fell like a guillotine.
The arena was unrecognizable—blackened stone, cracked pillars, and deep, smoking craters carved into the battlefield. Flame residue hung in the air like vengeful spirits refusing to leave. At the center of the destruction, Sofie Ignar stood alone—swaying, bloodied, but standing.
Her chest rose and fell in uneven heaves. Her left eye was swollen. One arm hung limp, burned along the edge, the other clenched in a trembling fist still steaming from the final blow.
Varrik Grenth lay at the far edge, unconscious, his armor melted into his skin. He wasn't dead—but he'd never forget her.
The referee staggered onto the field, unsure of what to say. He looked at the destruction, at the girl barely holding herself upright, and at the once-arrogant opponent lying in a heap. The words caught in his throat.
"W-Winner… uh—W-Winner… Sofie Ignar…!!"
The first sound that followed was a gasp. Then whispers. Then a few claps. Then—
A tidal wave of cheers.
The arena exploded in roaring applause and shouts. Students stood on their seats. Even faculty were frozen in surprise. Some were cheering, others simply staring. But the message was clear:
Sofie Ignar wasn't just lucky. She was real.
"Did you see that?!"
"She torched Varrik like he was nothing!"
"That girl—she's been holding back all this time!"
"Sofie Ignar… damn. That's fire discipline."
Even the announcer was breathless, fumbling to keep up. "Ladies and gentlemen… a stunning upset! A display of raw elemental dominance, grit, and—dare I say it—ignition mastery!"
Medics rushed in. The moment Sofie felt safe hands touch her shoulders, her legs gave out.
---
Medical Ward – High Priority Wing
Cool sheets. Dimming lights. Pain humming like a low drumbeat through her body.
Sofie lay on a reinforced medical slab, burns being treated by hydro-specialists, her cracked ribs being sealed with whispering threads of healing light. A cooling aura surrounded her head, and a nurse murmured gentle reassurances, but it all felt distant.
The door hissed open.
Lady Sera stormed in first, regal composure faltering as she rushed to her daughter's side. Her eyes shone with tears.
"Oh, Sofie…" She knelt, brushing the girl's damp hair from her forehead. "You were so good out there. Gods, I've never—" her voice broke. "You were brilliant, my love. Brilliant."
Sofie gave a weak smile. "I didn't mean to… go that far."
"You did what you had to," Sera whispered, kissing her forehead.
Behind her, Kael stepped in, still wide-eyed, still reeling from what he'd seen. He stood by the bed awkwardly at first, then finally gave her a crooked smile.
"I always said you were holding back," he said, voice catching. "But that? That was legendary, sis."
Sofie blinked slowly. "Still mad I broke the floor?"
Kael laughed. "A little. Mostly impressed. Proud, actually." He gave her a sideways glance, grinning. "Though remind me never to stand too close next time. I like having both eyebrows."
Sofie smirked. "You're just jealous mine stayed on and I won."
Kael placed a hand on his chest, mock-offended. "Jealous? I'm just saying, if you'd warned me you were about to go full supernova, I would've brought sunglasses."
They all laughed softly—tired, relieved, and riding the high of the moment.
---
A few minutes later, the lights shifted again.
Another visitor stepped inside.
Reina.
She stood by the door, arms folded, watching the scene with a distant expression. But something in her stance had softened. When the others stepped aside to give space, Reina approached Sofie without a word and sat on the edge of the bed.
"…Didn't think you'd actually win," she said casually.
Sofie looked at her, one eyebrow barely raised.
"Thanks?"
Reina gave a ghost of a smirk. "I'm not good with this support stuff. But for what it's worth… you impressed me. You didn't fall apart out there."
"It almost happened."
"Yeah, well. You didn't let it. That counts for something." Reina paused. "You did good out there, Sof."
Sofie blinked.
Did she just…?
Reina stood up again, clearing her throat. "Rest. You'll need it. You're gonna be very popular tomorrow."
And with that, she turned and left.
Sofie lay back against the bed, staring at the ceiling as the murmurs of healing magic surrounded her. The pain was still there—but something deeper, heavier, had lifted.
For the first time, she didn't feel like someone's leftover shadow.
She felt like Sofie Ignar.
---
Kael Ignar vs. Darun Vox
The crowd barely had time to blink.
Darun stepped forward, fist glowing with light—a fast, confident opener. He was strong, precise, well-trained. The kind of opponent people expected to push Kael a little.
Instead, Kael just moved.
A flicker. A blur.
Darun's body collapsed to the ground with a thud, eyes wide in unconscious shock.
One strike. No glow. No power aura. Not even a proper stance.
Just... over.
Gasps filled the stadium. Silence followed. No one was sure what even happened.
Kael stood with his hands in his pockets, already walking away before the referee finished stuttering.
"W-Winner: Kael Ignar…?"
He didn't turn back. Didn't smile. Didn't gloat.
Because for Kael, that wasn't even a warm-up.
End of the Preliminaries
Over the course of five brutal, bombastic days, the preliminaries of the Ascendant Rising Tournament drew to a stunning close.
Thousands entered. Only 128 would move on to the main brackets.
Some emerged with explosive victories. Others—like Sofie and Kael—etched their names in whispers, awe, and silence. From across the fractured nations, elemental elites and unknown anomalies carved out their place.
But even as the dust settled and cheers faded… a greater storm was quietly brewing.
---
An Abandoned Rooftop
Wind howled. Sunset spilled violet and ember over the broken skyline.
Klaus sat on a tilted bench, chewing on something that looked suspiciously not edible. Kaen and Kuro had finally caught up to him.
"…You're alive," Kaen muttered, eyebrows raised.
"More or less," Klaus replied.
Kuro narrowed his eyes. "The hell did you eat back there?"
Klaus tossed the crust of the mystery food away, leaning back. "Some weird seared root stuff from that wandering merchant. Then I drank something that said 'May cause consciousness fragmentation or super enlightenment.'"
Kaen blinked. "That does not sound legal."
"Wasn't," Klaus smirked. "But the hallucinations gave me directions to a temple with sword lessons and a documentary about ancient cats. Worth it."
Kaen looked to Kuro. "Is he alright?"
Kuro didn't miss a beat. "He's Klaus. Pretty sure he runs on spite, caffeine, and bad decisions."
As they bantered, Kuro's eyes narrowed. Something was sticking out of Klaus's inner coat pocket—a slip of crimson paper.
With a lightning-quick snatch, Kuro plucked it from his chest.
"Hey—!" Klaus lunged.
Kuro held him back with one arm and laughed. "Oh no you don't. You just know it's good when he scrambles like that."
Kaen peered over.
The paper unfolded.
Ascendant Rising Tournament – Open Prelims
Welcome to the Ascendant Rising
Tournament, a continent-wide competition designed to test strength, strategy, and elemental mastery. All registered combatants will enter the Open
Preliminaries, where only the top performers will advance.
Kuro's face dropped.
"No. No, no. No. You can't be serious."
Klaus crossed his arms. "Why not?"
"Because you're wanted. Not just 'haha-run-from-the-cops' wanted. I mean Monarch-level wanted. You're a walking storm wrapped in an 'arrest-on-sight' poster."
Kaen scratched his head. "But the tournament is open. And it's neutral territory. Maybe—"
"There's no maybe," Kuro snapped. "If they see his face, they'll shut it down. Or worse—they'll shut him down."
Klaus stepped forward, eyes sharp with intent. "This tournament draws power—people who matter. If I want the truth, I have to step into the ring."
Kuro opened his mouth, but Kaen slid between them.
"…Then what if he looked like someone else?" Kaen said carefully. "We change his appearance."
Kuro turned slowly. "A disguise?"
Kaen nodded. "Full rework. Hair, height, build, voice if we can. Make him someone nobody would expect."
Kuro's frown deepened… until a slow smirk spread across his face.
"...Let's go further," he said darkly.
Kaen blinked. "Further?"
Kuro's eyes sparkled with chaotic energy.
"Let's change his GENDER!!"
Silence.
Klaus's face froze.
"No."
Kaen burst out laughing. "Wait, actually that's genius!"
"No."
"We give him long hair, change the voice, hide the scars, maybe even mess with his aura signature—"
"No."
Kuro twirled the paper in his hand. "C'mon, Klaus. You wanna enter the tourney, you're gonna have to be someone else. And nobody's gonna question a mysterious, silver-haired girl from a lost country."
"…I will kill you both."
Kuro grinned wider. "Madam Klausette, welcome to the resistance."
Kaen wiped a tear from his eye. "I'm calling dibs on being your stylist."