The Strategy Room

The door slammed shut.

Setsuna didn't hesitate — his fist smashed into the wall.

CRACK.

Plaster chipped, a jagged dent left behind.

"Damn it. We got only fifteen minutes"

Kazuo flinched slightly by the table.

Setsuna's back was tense. His breath, sharp. "This whole thing is beyond rigged."

Kazuo looked at Setsuna. "Why this Battle Royale at alI? I thought the tournament was tomorrow."

Setsuna turned to him. "You, of all people, should know better."

Kazuo let out a dry breath. "I get it—it's King Cedric's stage. But did he really need to turn it into a whole circus before the real fight?"

Setsuna rolled his shoulders, flexing out the sting in his fist. "Hell if I know. Cedric might trust me more than anyone, but he's still the king. He does whatever he pleases."

"Then maybe I just throw the match. Let someone knock me out. No magic, no sword — that ends it, doesn't it?"

Setsuna's eyes hardened. "Don't be naive."

Kazuo blinked. "It's clean."

"No. It's suicide."

Setsuna stepped in, voice calm but heavy.

"Lose here — especially in the preliminary — and they'll brand you a fraud. Just a peasant pretending at nobility. They'll say you never belonged in the first place, that your eye is nothing but a mistake the world hasn't corrected yet."

Kazuo's gaze sharpened.

"Back in the palace — Cedric couldn't just erase you. Too many had already seen your eyes, and whispers spread fast. Killing you then might've sparked revolt — nobles clinging to your green eye, or the Lower Crescent rallying behind you as one of their own. But here? In this ring? He can erase you without consequence. A clean elimination. One fall, one crowd cheer, and you're done. No uprisings. No backlash. Just a quiet message: black-eyed."

He turned his back for a moment, then added:

"But if you go far — if you lose later, maybe even to Aoi — then you become something else."

Kazuo looked up. "What then?"

Setsuna didn't look back. "You become the Crown's success story. The 'good' one. A peasant who knew his place. A black-eyed noble's pet."

A beat of silence.

Kazuo clenched his fists. "Since I came here, I've done nothing but play along with Cedric's rules. I stayed in line. But this…"

His voice wavered. "It's maddening."

Setsuna nodded once. "I know. But we don't have time for frustration. Focus."

He moved toward Kazuo and spoke more calmly now. "You're the clear target. You know that. The others might not hate you, but they'll fear what you represent. And remember — this is the preliminary round. The actual bracket is decided after this. Everyone wants to knock someone like you out early."

Kazuo looked up. "But doesn't that also put a target on Aoi's back? I mean… he's the prodigy."

Setsuna gave a sharp breath, almost a laugh — but it lacked humor. "Yeah. It does. But that's the game, isn't it?"

He stepped closer, eyes narrowing.

"Aoi's a double-edged sword. On one side, if you eliminate him now — before magic is allowed — you remove the one fighter built to counter your element later. But the other side is just as sharp: facing him this early means risking elimination at the hands of a prodigy. Either way, he cuts deep."

Kazuo stayed quiet, listening.

"This isn't just a free-for-all. It's a test. Cedric's watching every step — how you fight, how you think, who you stand with, who you turn against. He wants to measure you, weigh your worth, and see exactly what kind of piece you'll be on his board."

He glanced toward the window, then back.

"So… aside from Aoi — anyone else stand out to you?"

Kazuo glanced sideways, jaw twitching slightly.

"Rulthan," he muttered. "We already met. Let's just say I'm definitely on his hit list."

Setsuna arched a brow. "Figures."

Kazuo continued, slower now. "And… I don't know why, but that barefoot girl with the yellow eyes…"

Setsuna tilted his head. "You mean Kaya?"

Kazuo nodded once. "Yeah. Her. She looked at me like she wanted to skin me alive."

Setsuna rubbed the back of his neck. "Kaya. I don't know much about her but pride runs deep in her family. Guess she didn't like the sight of a black-eyed 'mistake' in her tournament."

Kazuo looked away for a second. "Well, her and Rulthan… they both looked physically strong. I mean compared to the rest."

Setsuna gave a dry grunt. "Then better stay away from them."

He paused, then pushed off the wall, pacing slowly.

"But you know what really worries me?"

Kazuo raised an eyebrow.

Setsuna turned back, eyes sharp.

"The rules."

Kazuo blinked.

"It's a ring-out," Setsuna said, voice low. "But it never actually specified how the ring-out ends. Did you catch that?"

Kazuo narrowed his eyes. "You mean…?"

Setsuna nodded grimly. "It never said the one knocked out has to be alive."

A beat passed between them — heavy, cold.

"You get what I'm saying?" Setsuna continued. "No weapons, no magic — but if someone slips, gets slammed the wrong way, falls wrong…"

Kazuo swallowed once.

Setsuna's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Beware. Because accidents in this kind of match? They're the easiest kind to arrange."

Setsuna grabbed a rice cracker from his pouch, bit into it aggressively, then pointed at Kazuo.

"Look. I never trained you in brawling. I trained you in swordplay. Magic. Control. But you've got a fighter's physique — and a swordsman's instincts. That's what we use."

Kazuo lifted a hand, circling it impatiently in the air. "Meaning?"

"Fight like your arm is your blade. Every swing, every step — mimic swordplay. Turn your body into your weapon."

Kazuo nodded slowly, thinking it over.

"I'm being honest with you," Setsuna added, quieter now. "I don't know how this'll go. It's a gamble."

He met Kazuo's eyes. "But I'm counting on your wit. That mind of yours might be the one thing that keeps you alive out there."

Kazuo didn't respond immediately. He reached up, fingers brushing the medallion around his neck.

"…Then I have to win."

He unstrapped his sword and set it gently on the table, like parting with a trusted friend.

Kazuo lingered over the blade, his reflection staring back at him.

"I don't care if they dress me up as Cedric's success story or chain me as the nobles' pet. If it means I can go back to Gramps — I'll do everything in my power to make it happen."

He looked up.

"But it's not like I've got a choice."

He let out a long breath, then glanced at Setsuna with a faint, uneasy chuckle.

"…You're the one who dragged me to the palace, but…thanks. For back then. I don't think I ever said it."

Setsuna blinked, then answered with a dry, crooked grin.

He stepped forward, placing a hand briefly on Kazuo's shoulder.

"You don't need to thank me." A rare softness touched his voice.

"I trust you, Kazuo. Fully. Come back victorious."

Kazuo's eyes flicked to him.

Setsuna stepped back, exhaling slowly, the old steel creeping back into his voice.

"Just remember — alliances will form. Betrayal will come fast. The moment you let your guard down, someone will try to shove you off the edge."

He paused.

"Trust no one. Keep moving. Smile if you must — but keep your fists ready."

Setsuna looked at him.

Then, softly — almost like a ritual:

"Fifteen minutes are up."

Kazuo walked toward the door, each step firmer.

He looked down at his hands… then slowly tightened the straps of his fingerless gloves, one at a time.

Each motion deliberate. Quiet.

Kazuo gave a slight nod. His voice was quiet, but steady.

"I won't let your efforts go to waste."

Then stepped through.

And when he did, it wasn't just an exit — it was an entry.

The coliseum's roar met him like a tidal wave — banners shaking, voices clashing, the distant thrum of expectation heavy in the air.

This was it.

Only the ring.

And whatever came with it.

—

Back in the silent room, Setsuna stood alone, eyes lingering on the space Kazuo had just left behind.

Then he exhaled through his nose.

"…I wonder."

He hesitated, the words slipping out softer than he meant.

"…If I'm really doing the right thing, Eleanor."

And with that, he turned — heading toward the Captains' Gallery, the place where giants watched the board and moved their pieces.

Because now?

Now the real game was about to begin.