I woke before the sun again.
The dream from the previous night still weighed on me, not like fear, but like a warning. There was something different about it. It wasn't chaotic, it wasn't confusing. It was far too silent. And silence, I had already learned, is usually the first sign that something is about to collapse.
I got up slowly so as not to wake anyone. The room was still dark, cut only by the faint light slipping through the curtains. The calm breathing beside me contrasted with the unrest inside me.
I left.
The morning air was cold, damp. I walked through the mansion's garden, hearing only my own steps over the grass. The world was still asleep, but I felt as if something had been awake for a long time.
"Couldn't sleep either?"
The voice came from the bench near the fountain. Scarlet was there, arms crossed, neutral expression. She didn't seem surprised to see me.
"It's becoming a bad habit," I replied.
She shrugged. "For someone carrying too much attention on their back, sleep always becomes a luxury."
I sat beside her. For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. The sound of the water falling filled the space.
"Do you feel it too?" I asked.
"If you're talking about the invisible pressure that started after the tournament… yes." She turned her face toward me. "People expect you to be something now."
"A symbol," I murmured.
"Or a problem."
We fell silent again.
Scarlet broke the moment. "I received an offer."
I looked up. "From whom?"
"From outside. A group that doesn't align with kingdoms or guilds. They offer protection, influence… in exchange for future cooperation."
"And you refused."
"Immediately." She gave a faint smile. "But that means others may accept."
That confirmed a fear I had been trying to ignore. The tournament had not only shown strength. It had exposed fractures.
"Why did you tell me this?" I asked.
"Because you're going to end up at the center of this, whether you like it or not." Scarlet stood up. "And because, despite everything, I trust you more than most people in this world."
She walked away before I could respond.
I went back inside with the feeling that pieces were being moved far beyond where we could see the entire board.
Later, the guild called an emergency meeting.
The hall was full. Guild masters, team representatives, veteran adventurers. The atmosphere was tense, without the usual enthusiasm.
The guild master of Vaillor spoke first. "We have received reliable information that some smaller guilds are being pressured to align with external forces."
A murmur ran through the hall.
"We are not talking about demons," he continued. "We are talking about people."
That was more unsettling than any monstrous threat.
An adventurer raised her hand. "And what will we do?"
"Observation," he replied. "And preparation. We cannot act without proof."
Everyone knew that was insufficient. But no one had a better solution.
After the meeting, I was approached by several adventurers. Questions, requests, expectations. I answered what I could, but each conversation only reinforced the same thing. They expected me to have answers I still did not have.
When I returned to the mansion, I found Liriel and Elara speaking in low voices.
"This is not just coincidence," Elara was saying. "Everything is happening too fast."
"I agree," Liriel replied. "But acting on impulse now would be a mistake."
They looked at me when I entered.
"Something new?" Liriel asked.
"Movements outside the guilds," I replied. "And offers being made."
Elara closed her eyes for a moment. "So it's not just an impression."
We spent the afternoon discussing possible scenarios. Not battle plans, but escape routes, unlikely alliances, difficult decisions. It was strange to think about all of that without a clear enemy.
At night, Vaillor seemed restless.
The tavern lights were dimmer. Conversations more restrained. Even laughter sounded forced. The city felt the weight of what had not yet happened.
I walked to the highest point of the wall, watching the horizon. The lands beyond were dark, silent.
"You've changed," a voice said behind me.
Vespera approached, leaning against the cold stone.
"I hope for the better."
"For more awareness," she corrected. "Before, you only reacted. Now, you think too much."
I gave a faint smile. "Maybe that's the price."
She looked at me. "Just don't let it paralyze you."
I stayed there for a few more minutes after she left.
When I returned to the room, exhaustion finally caught up with me. I lay down, breathing deeply, trying to push away the thoughts.
Before sleeping, one certainty formed with uncomfortable clarity.
The tournament had ended.
But the real game had just begun.