Special Tournament 10

Chapter 22

Special Tournament 10

As Mei’s body collapsed, blood splattering from the deep wound in her back, the crowd fell into stunned silence at Kaela’s sudden, brutal strike.

Shiro stared down at the arena, his face slightly pale, sweat trailing down his cheek. He couldn’t help but whisper under his breath,
“Woah…”

Pressing his fingers to his chin, his mind ran over what he just witnessed.
She doesn’t do close combat—too weak for it. But those bats… they’re perfect for defense. And if you can’t force her into a direct fight? She’s a monster. An assassin. Ends it in one blow.

Shiro let out a short chuckle.
“She’s going to be a problem. Hopefully the arena won’t be too crowded…”

As Mei’s skin began turning ghostly pale, Kaela stood over her, eyes void of emotion. Empty. Dark.
No hesitation. No mercy.
Only death.

Blood trickled from Mei’s mouth, sliding down her chin. She looked up at Kaela with a weary, fading smile.
“L-Let’s have a rematch next time, ’kay…?”

Her body dropped.

THUD.

The silence lingered for a few more seconds, then the arena erupted. Cheers, screams, and roars thundered through the stadium before gradually fading again.

A glowing message appeared across the outer layer of the arena’s dome:
WINNER: KAELA

Kaela glanced at the display. Her empty stare broke into a wide, beaming smile, like an entirely different person had taken her place. Her figure slowly dissolved into glowing sparks as she was teleported out of the arena.

High above, behind shadowed glass, four powerful figures watched. Government officials—or something more.

Shiro glanced up at them, trying to make out their appearances.
What the—?
One of them had wings growing from his head. Another looked… ancient. Wrinkled, hunched.
An old man? In this day and age? That doesn’t even make sense. Aging’s practically extinct now.

The other two were harder to read, their shadows too thick to make out.

Whatever…

Shiro stood up. He didn’t care about the next match. He believed he’d rise above them all anyway.

Letting out a breath, he made his way to the large elevator. It stood massive, wide enough to fit a truck. White doors engraved with swirling golden patterns. Two golden hands pressed in a praying gesture adorned the buttons.

Since the next rounds were still going, the line was empty.

He pressed the upward button.

DING.

As he waited, Shiro glanced down at his palm.

Why do I feel… superior?

The sensation swelled in his chest, a feeling of control. Power. As if thousands of hearts beat for him. A smile curled on his lips.

OPEN.

The elevator’s doors slid open, pulling Shiro from his thoughts.

He stepped in.

The interior was elegant: cherry-red carpet, walls covered in engraved portraits of past winners. Each photo framed in gold, names etched below in vibrant metallic colors.

Shiro studied them.

Shiru – Legacy: Nether
Thros – Legacy: Riven
Kai – Legacy: Solenne

Those three stood out.

Shiru… sounds like my name. Wasn’t that the guy the old man mentioned when he put a gun to my head?

Then he noticed Thros.
Wait, my sister mentioned him. A year ago, when she was in her second year working at the Academy…

Shiro blinked.

Speaking of that… how the hell did she even get a job here?

His thoughts drifted again, but he pushed them aside.

Kai Solenne… that’s Aurelia’s legacy, right? Her brother, maybe.

DING.
The elevator came to a stop. The doors opened with a rush of cool air.

Shiro stepped out and pulled out his phone.
Nobody really uses these anymore. Not with how advanced tech is now. Clothes, armor… we’ve evolved.

Checking the time, he scrolled through his contacts, then stopped cold.

Myrrh.
Her name was in his list.

“The hell?!” He tapped rapidly and deleted it.

Heading down the hallway toward his room, the long corridor seemed to stretch forever. Wide enough for ten people shoulder-to-shoulder, lined with thick red walls and white engravings that muffled the distant arena noise.

Finally, at the far end, he reached his room on the right. The pale brown door had a dull, worn-out knob.

He grabbed it.

Squelch.

A wet, unnatural sound squished beneath his touch.

Shiro froze. His face went pale.

Looking down—

A thick, gray, drooping substance leaked out from under the door.

“…What the fuck…”

He jumped back, forming a bubble in his palm. More began floating around him, orbiting with precision.

Dashing to the side of the door, Shiro grabbed the handle again, slowly turning it.

Creakkk…

He eased into the dark entryway. The blinds were shut, cloaking the space in shadow. He moved along the wall cautiously.

The hallway opened into his bedroom. No figures in sight. Everything seemed untouched.

He crept to the blinds.

But just before he reached them, a voice echoed in his head.

Cold. Distant.

“Shiro… Always watch behind you…”

His body tensed. Instinct flared.

Without hesitation, he flung the blinds open and spun, hurling three bubbles behind him.

A flash of gray.

Two long, drooping hands with abnormally long nails reached for his face, only to be shredded by the bubbles.

The figure was blown back. Three gaping holes in its body.

Shiro summoned five more bubbles.

They fired through the air.

But the creature rose. It extended its arms, and beneath each one, a new pair of limbs grew, sprouting like grotesque roots into full-grown arms.

It caught all five bubbles midair, then crushed them in its hands.

What… the hell?!

Sunlight bathed the room, revealing the creature.

Its skin hung loosely like melting wax, gray and sickly. Its face was hidden beneath a brown, wide-brimmed hat. A brown trench coat draped over its warped frame.

Shiro’s throat tightened.

He remembered this thing.

It was back.