The bus rumbled beneath me, its engine growling as it rolled deeper into the heart of Uonuma City. I sat still, hood low, hands stuffed into my pockets. I kept my gaze on the world outside, letting it blur into passing reflections on the window.
"So this is Uonuma City," I muttered. Towers scraped the sky, and the streets below pulsed with life. "The place holding that huge tournament."
My stomach twisted. This wasn't just a game or a celebration. It was a battleground. A place where warriors, monsters, and people like me bled for glory—or survival.
The bus gave a low hiss as it came to a halt.
"My stop," I said under my breath, standing and tugging my mask over the lower half of my face. The doors creaked open, and I stepped into the heat and noise of the city.
Immediately, I was swallowed by the crowd—merchants yelling over one another, mana-powered vehicles weaving between lanes, kids darting between legs. Everything about Uonuma felt charged. Alive. Tense.
I found the hotel without issue—a modern tower of glass and stone. Lanterns glowed softly under a canopy, swaying in the breeze. The doorman gave me a nod as I stepped inside.
The lobby shimmered with wealth. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and the faint scent of fresh-cut lilies filled the air. At the front desk, a young woman smiled—too polished, too perfect.
"Welcome. How may I assist you?"
I kept my voice low. "Room key. Under Sir Elarion's reservation."
She blinked, then tapped swiftly at her keyboard. "You'll be staying for one week, yes? Room 687. Sixth floor."
She slid the keycard across the counter. I took it.
"Thanks."
"Enjoy your stay, sir." Her smile didn't falter, but her eyes flickered to my mask for a moment too long.
The elevator ride was silent, but I couldn't shake the sensation that something unseen was pressing in around me. Like the city itself was watching.
Room 687 was quiet and tucked away. Clean. Spacious. Luxurious. I dropped my bag, peeled off my cloak, and let myself fall onto the bed.
Tomorrow, everything would begin.
The alarm shattered the silence.
I groaned, rolling over and forcing my body upright. It wasn't restful sleep, but it was better than nothing. I dressed quickly, pulling on the black combat gear Elarion had prepared for me. It hugged my body like a second skin—light, breathable, tactical. I slipped the mask back on and grabbed the key.
The tournament grounds weren't far.
The massive circular arena loomed on the horizon, surrounded by blackstone walls and bustling with energy. Competitors flooded the open courtyard—some armored, others dressed in monk-like simplicity. Most of them carried weapons strapped to their backs or belts. The clang of steel rang out from practice duels.
I moved toward the registration tents, weaving through the crowd. I kept my eyes sharp.
A man nearby caught my attention—tattoos running up his neck, face worn and scarred. His stare cut like a blade. Beside him stood a woman with silver hair tied into a sharp braid. Her ice-blue eyes locked on mine for half a second, then flicked away.
I reached the counter. A burly man sat behind it, clipboard in hand, voice like gravel.
"Name?" he barked without looking.
I hesitated for only a second.
"Lord... Tarek. Tarek Alviris."
He looked up briefly, then nodded and handed over a form.
"Sign."
I scribbled a neat, forgettable signature. He slapped a badge onto the table—my number, my identity for the rest of the tournament.
I clipped it to my jacket.
Another step forward.
As I turned to move aside, I bumped shoulders with the silver-haired woman. She stared at me, expression unreadable.
"Newcomer," she said, voice smooth and sharp as silk. "You don't look like much. But those are usually the ones who last."
I gave her a slight nod. No need to waste words.
But before I could leave, she raised her hand and added,
"Watch out for Kuro."
The name stopped me.
"Kuro?"
She nodded once. "Top-tier fighter. He plays dirty. Doesn't just fight to win—fights to kill. If you're planning to survive, don't take your eyes off him."
"Is that a warning or a test?"
Her lips twitched—somewhere between a smirk and a frown. "Maybe both."
She turned and melted into the crowd, vanishing like mist.
I stood still for a long moment. The sounds of blades, laughter, and murmuring voices swirled around me, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat.
The tournament was about to begin.
And whatever waited in that arena—Kuro, demons, secrets, or worse—I was ready to face it.
Because this wasn't just a fight for survival.
It was the next step toward unlocking who I truly was.