The morning of the semifinals dawned grey and cold. Cale stood at the edge of the arena, waiting for the match with his new team gathered around him. Mira, the dark-haired Koinos girl who had recruited him, stood at the front, her arms crossed, her eyes on the ring. Beside her were three others: a stocky boy named Dorn who carried a tower shield, a lanky girl called Sara who moved like a dancer and wielded twin daggers, and a quiet archer named Finn who hadn't spoken a word since they'd met.
The four strangers and Cale. A team of leftovers, thrown together by the tournament committee.
"Shel's team is mid-tier Aethel," Mira said, her voice low. "They've got inherited Memories, but nothing like Lysander or Vorian. Their leader, Shel, is a swordsman with a speed enhancement Memory. The others are mostly support. A healer, a wind mage, and a trapper 'in quote.'" She made a gesture emphasizing the quote. "They'll try to isolate one of us and pick us off."
Dorn hefted his shield. "So we are to stay together."
"Exactly." Mira looked at Cale. "You fought Vorian. You know how noblemen fight. Any advice?"
If only they knew he was a nobleman himself. Not that he was much of one anyway. He thought about his duel with Vorian, the precision, the sheer arrogance. "From what I've gathered, they'll probably underestimate us. Let's use that. Let them think we're disorganized, then hit them when they overextend."
Sara smiled, twirling a dagger. "I like him."
The announcer's high-pitched voice boomed across the arena. "The Semifinal match: Team Mira versus Team Shel. Fighters, take your positions as we enter what seems to be an interesting match."
The crowd roared. Cale walked onto the platform, his sword summoned and held at his hip, Revenant hidden in his shadow.
Across the ring stood Shel and his teammates, four students wearing the Aethel faction's navy uniform, their gear gleaming. Shel himself was tall and blond, his hand resting on a sword that reeked of stored power. Just like Mira had said.
Mira raised her hand. "Y'all should focus on Shel. Take him out, and the rest will crumble."
The announcer raised his hand. "Begin."
Shel moved first.
He was fast, faster than Cale had expected. His blade was a blur of strikes, closing the distance before Mira could even react. Dorn threw himself in front of her, his shield catching the blow. The impact sent shockwaves across the platform, but Dorn and his shield held.
"He's strong!" Dorn muttered.
Wasn't that exactly what Mira just said a moment ago? Cale tightened his grip.
Sara darted around the side, her daggers aimed at Shel's flank. The wind mage intervened, a gust of air throwing her off balance. She stumbled, and the trapper threw a net of light that wrapped around her legs, pinning her firmly to the ground.
"Sara's down!" Finn called. He loosed an arrow at the trapper, but the healer's shield deflected it.
Cale moved. It was his turn now. He raised Soul Drinker, the blade glowing at its edges, and engaged Shel directly. Their swords clashed once, then twice, three times. Shel was good, real good. His speed enhancement made him a blur, but Cale's Death Sense tracked the strikes just before they landed. He parried, dodged, and gave ground.
"Are you sure you're E Rank?" Shel laughed. "You fight a lot like a C rank individual."
Cale didn't answer. He let Shel press, letting him think he was winning. Then, when Shel overextended, just like they had planned, Cale sidestepped and drove his shoulder into Shel's chest. The noble young man stumbled, and Cale's free hand touched his arm. Necrotic Touch, just a whisper. Shel gasped, his grip loosening for a heartbeat.
"Now!" Cale shouted.
Mira was there. She understood the signal just in time. Her blade found Shel's wrist, drawing blood. He dropped his sword, and Dorn's shield slammed into his chest, sending him to the ground.
"Shel is down!" the announcer called.
The wind mage tried to flee, but Finn's arrow caught her leg. She stumbled, and Sara, now free from the net, tackled her to the ground. The trapper raised his hands to surrender. With not much of a choice, the healer obviously followed suit.
The crowd erupted.
"Team Mira wins! They advance to the finals!"
Cale stood in the center of the ring, breathing hard. The match felt a bit overrated, though. His arm ached, but the wound from Kade's arrow remained unperturbed. Mira clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "You're not bad, rank E."
"Neither are you."
She laughed. "The Finals. We're in the finals."
Across the arena, another match was ending. Cale looked up at the screens. Team Vorian had defeated Cumen decisively. Val's fire had been blazing though a bit more controlled this time, precise. Cale would have loved to fight Cumen again and win, but Valerie had already done justice to that.
The bracket updated.
Finals: Team Mira vs. Team Vorian.
Cale stared at the screen. Valerie's face appeared on the other side of the arena, her Ember Cloak flickering, her eyes fixed on him.
They would fight tomorrow.
That night, Cale trained alone, using Revenant as a live dummy. At his call, the shadow appeared, its golden eyes gleaming in the dark.
"You're worried," Revenant said.
"I'm preparing."
"Are you worried about fighting her?"
Cale didn't answer. He raised Soul Drinker, and Revenant moved. They sparred in silence, shadow and blade, until Cale's arms burned and his Mauri was nearly gone.
When he finally stopped, Revenant stood over him, its wings half‑spread.
"You will not hurt her," Revenant said. It wasn't a question.
"I won't."
"Then why do you fight?"
Cale looked at the stars, then at the arena where tomorrow he would face Val. "Because I have to. Because I don't think the Penalty can clear unless I win. Because if I don't prove myself now, I probably never will."
Revenant was quiet for a moment. Then it said, "Then win."
In a quick transition, it melted into his shadow. Cale walked back to his room, the weight of tomorrow pressing heavily against his chest.