CHAPTER 188: THE FINALS

Kai gently shifted beneath the covers, lifting Vepice’s arm off his chest with the same care he would use to hold ancient fragile texts. She murmured something incoherent in her sleep, soft and sweet, then turned away, tugging a corner of the blanket with her.

As she tugged it, he saw most of her body once again and he let her have the blanket.

Dressing quietly, Kai pulled on the clothes he’d laid out the night before, all courtesy of the thieves guild.

A new shirt, fitted pants, reinforced shoes, and a dark grey cloak, and a pair of sleek gloves.

He tried his best to replicate the magic on the bulky dampening gloves from Mirth, and after half an hour, succeeded. It prevented his either touch from completely seeping through the material.

He spent the next hour scribing careful sigils onto each garment. Not the standard protections most would expect, but something clever. Something hybrid that was based partly on the mana absorption sigil etched into his own skin, and partly on barrier theory. It was delicate work. If it worked, it would realistically prevent him from being drowned in the excessive bursts of Grim’s mana he expelled. Much like how Cyrus covered himself in mana to ignore the effects.

’Hopefully it works. I mean... Since I’ve been around gods, it can’t be too bad, can it? Not much different, surely.’

He had no illusions, though.

Grim was dangerous.

Inhuman, probably.

His presence alone could make a battlefield feel like it was folding in on itself.

No armour would survive that pressure.

No barrier would hold for long.

But maybe, just maybe, this would buy him time.

When he finished, Kai sat back and admired the faint glimmer of the sigils beneath the fabric’s weave. Then, without a sound, he opened the door and stepped out of their room.

He paused at the threshold, just for a moment, and looked back through the doorway.

Vepice lay diagonally across the bed, one leg bare to the hip. One arm was splayed over the sheets, the other tucked under her cheek. A strip of pale shoulder peeked out from beneath her tousled hair, and her chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.

It took effort to tear himself away.

’I guess she’s sleeping in today,’ he thought with a quiet smile. She deserves to. He’d fight for her, as much as for himself.

He stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him.

Once he left the inn, he shielded his eyes. The early light of morning filtered through the city like a golden veil.

The air was cool, but not cold. Birds chirped somewhere above the tiled rooftops, and a baker’s scent, yeast and smoke and sugar, drifted in from a nearby stall.

He stepped into the street.

And almost immediately, chaos followed.

It began as a low murmur. Footsteps rushing toward him.

"It’s him!"

Kai jumped back.

He was surrounded.

"Alex! Alex Trunsdale!"

A wave of people surged toward him from both sides of the market road, cornering him like wolves around a deer.

Except these weren’t assassins of the church, nor thieves of bandits.

These weren’t enemies.

Children. Vendors. Tavern keepers. Even guards in uniform.

For a moment, Kai’s body tensed. He scanned their faces, ready for hidden blades or divine sigils. Ready for masks.

But instead, someone tugged on his shirt.

"It’s really him!" A boy yelled.

"Will you sign this?!" A grown woman asked.

"My daughter loves you!"

Kai blinked, stunned.

He wasn’t being attacked.

He was being mobbed by fans.

A little girl with a wooden sword shoved past a few older women and practically tackled his leg. "You were so cool when you punched that fire guy in the face!"

Kai smiled gently and patted her head. "I try."

More hands reached out.

Some for handshakes.

Some just to touch him.

He made sure to be careful of where they placed their hands.

A woman gave him a basket of pastries. A tall man with soot-smudged arms clapped him on the back so hard Kai almost staggered.

"You’re gonna win today, right?" the man asked. "The whole city’s behind you!"

Kai straightened up and, just for fun, pivoted sharply on his heel to face the crowd. He summoned his best performance smile, chest high, voice steady.

"Grim will be a tough opponent," he said seriously. "Who wins could be anyone’s guess. But I promise you this-" He lifted a single gloved hand. "-I will give it everything I’ve got."

A cheer erupted, and someone started chanting his name. He bowed quickly, waved again, and slipped through the crowd like a shadow fading into morning mist.

By the time Kai reached the coliseum, the streets had begun to thin. The crowds parted for him this time, not out of fear or hesitation, but reverence.

No chants.

No cheers.

Just wide eyes, murmured words, and an unspoken tension that settled over the city like the quiet before a storm.

And a storm it would be.

He walked with purpose, cloak billowing faintly behind him, the sigils etched into the lining pulsing with slow, rhythmic light.

At the gates of the arena, an attendant bowed low and stepped aside.

Kai didn’t need directions.

The path to the waiting room felt longer than usual. The same stone walls, the same torches lining the corridors, and yet... everything felt different now. He felt different.

When he entered, only Grim sat in the chamber.

There were no guards. No aides. No other fighters.

The room was silent save for the hum of faint enchantments reinforcing the structure, though even those seemed to quiet in Grim’s presence.

The pale-skinned boy didn’t look up. He sat hunched forward on the bench, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely laced. His dark eyes were dull with fatigue or apathy.

It was hard to tell which.

That same dense, wrong mana coiled around him in soft spirals, whispering against the walls like smoke that didn’t rise.

Kai said nothing.

He crossed the room and sat down at the other end of the bench. Not opposite Grim. Beside him. Close, but not intruding. As if acknowledging some mutual understanding.

Time passed.

Neither of them spoke.

At some point, a nervous young assistant poked his head into the chamber, holding a slip of parchment, clearly unsure of what to do with it now.

"You, uh... you won’t need a lineup today," the boy mumbled, eyes flicking between them. "For... obvious reasons."

Neither of them responded.

The assistant lingered for a heartbeat too long, then ducked out, the door closing with a soft click.

Grim leaned back slightly. His eyes closed.

Kai leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. His mind sharpened.

This was it.

The final fight. No more strategizing. No more calculations. No more holding back. One last test. Not just of strength, but of resolve.

Minutes passed.

The announcer called for the crowd, and Kai could make out some words about sponsors and the weather and food.

Without looking over, Grim said in a flat, quiet voice:

"Don’t hold back."

Kai smirked faintly. "Wasn’t planning on it."

Without exchanging another word, Kai and Grim stood.

A quiet nod passed between them, and then they parted, each taking a different corridor leading to opposite ends of the arena floor.

Kai’s footsteps echoed along the stone hallway.

He brought out two sabers from his shadow space and gripped them tightly.

The closer he came to the sunlight pouring through the gate, the louder the roar of the crowd grew, building like a rising tide, swelling with anticipation, fervour, and something more primal. Something ancient.

The Arena of Kings didn’t just demand strength.

It demanded spectacle.

As he stepped into position just behind the gate, the booming voice of the announcer cracked through the air like a lightning strike.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! CITIZENS OF FORNE! TRAVELERS FROM EVERY CORNER OF THE CONTINENT!"

"This is the FINAL MATCH of this year’s Arena of Kings tournament!"

"And our first contestant... has shaken the foundation of this city! From his first fight to his miraculous survival against Tarnil’s inferno, he has risen again and again like a warrior reborn! He’s made mages rethink strategy, monks question their training, and fans fall in love with every strike! At only fifteen years of age... if he wins today, he will be the youngest champion to win on their first extry in the arena’s storied history!"

"LET’S HEAR IT FOR ALEX TRUUUUUUUNSDALE!"

The crowd exploded.

It wasn’t just noise. It was a wave of passion that slammed against Kai’s chest and set his heartbeat racing. Thousands of voices rose like a storm, calling his name, chanting it, echoing it.

Alex. Alex. Alex.

He took a long, slow breath, let the pressure roll off his shoulders, and stepped through the gate.

The sky above was cloudless. A deep blue dome over the blood-stained stone of the coliseum. The wind was light. He walked forward slowly, confidently, absorbing every sound, every chant.

He reached the centre, standing alone in the ring.

And then the voice of the announcer thundered again.

"AND HIS OPPONENT... A MAN WHO SPEAKS LITTLE BUT SAYS EVERYTHING WITH POWER ALONE!"

"There has never—I repeat—NEVER been a fighter in the Arena of Kings who brought such an overwhelming surge of force to the battlefield! His fight with Quinn left even hardened soldiers shaken, and his match with Cyrus Vale is already being called one of the greatest duels in arena history!"

"If power is truth, then this boy is the most honest fighter alive!"

"WELCOME... GRIIIIIIIIIIM!!"

A second wave of roaring filled the arena, and this one sounded almost different. Not the hopeful chant of a rising star.

This was a howl. A war-cry.

Not celebration.

Reverence.

Grim emerged from the opposite gate. No flourish. No grand entrance.

The same blank face.

The same dead eyes.

The air around him pulsed. Mana practically leaked off of him, condensing around his shoulders like a second skin. His expression didn’t change as he came to a halt opposite Kai, only a few strides away.

For a brief moment, Kai just looked at him.

’I wish I’d seen that fight,’ he thought. ’The one with Quinn. I wish I had the time to study his movements. His pressure. Saw how she tried to deal with him.’

Kai sighed.

’But instead... I raised soldiers. I replenished my life essence. I chose to gamble everything on being ready for this moment.’

He cracked his neck.

Flexed his fingers.

And stared across the battlefield at the final opponent between him and the throne of the arena.

’I’ll try to win this, Joran.’

Kai felt something stir in his shadow space. As if Joran acknowledged his efforts.

"The first time we’ve ever had two fighters this young in the finals for the ARENAAAAAA of KIIIIIIIIINGS! FIGHT!"