The Tournament’s Call

It was high noon when Kazuo stepped through the gates of the coliseum, his squad at his side.

The noise hit first — a rolling wave of voices that seemed to shake the stone itself. The stands were overflowing, every seat taken, every railing lined. Compared to the preliminaries, the crowd was twice as large, and their focus was fixed squarely on him. Word had spread. They weren't here just for another match — they were here to see the rare sight of Water Magic wielded in a duel.

Sora strolled a step ahead, tail swaying lazily. She glanced over her shoulder with a grin that showed the faintest edge of a fang. "Try not to trip on the way in, Kazu. Would be a shame to disappoint all your fans."

"Fans? They just want to see me fai—" Kazuo stopped mid-word, narrowing his eyes. "Wait… did you just call me Kazu?"

Her grin widened. "Guess it's catching on."

From behind them, Setsuna smirked. "Told you it'd stick."

Kazuo rolled his eyes.

Tetsu adjusted his glasses without looking up from the notepad in his hands. "Watch her footwork. If it changes, she's about to switch tactics." He scribbled quickly, muttering just loud enough for Kazuo to catch, "Unless she's faking it… which would be worse."

Kazuo gave him a sideways look. "That's supposed to help?"

"Absolutely," Tetsu said, already jotting more notes.

"Just don't overthink everything and you'll be fine." Setsuna cut in, his hands tucked loosely into his pockets. His eyes scanned the arena without urgency, like he'd seen it all a thousand times. "Focus on reading her rhythm. You break that, you break her."

Kazuo said nothing, but the words settled in his mind.

Beneath the coliseum, He waited in a narrow stone corridor. The walls were damp with heat, the air thick with the muffled roar of the crowd above. At the far end, the iron gate loomed, its seams glowing faintly with the firelight from the arena beyond.

Kazuo pressed his palms against the cold iron, the roar of the crowd bleeding faintly through the bars. I wonder what kind of magic she uses… The thought lingered, heavier than he liked.

He shifted, leaning back against the stone wall. And Rei… if only you were here. But with the restrictions, that's nothing more than a wish.

The echo of another cheer rolled through the corridor, pulling him back to the present. Soon the gate would rise.

Above, the midday heat was softened by the shade of carved stone arches. From the gallery, the entire platform stretched in perfect view — every clash, every breath of magic laid bare.

The captains had gathered there. Setsuna strolled in last, leaning casually on the rail. His eyes tracked the arena like a hawk despite his easy posture.

Captain Jin sat upright, elbows on the armrests, uniform immaculate, focus sharp.

Vaskel leaned forward, chin resting on one hand, smirk in place.

Jin broke the silence. "So… how is your brat, Setsuna?"

"He'll manage," Setsuna replied lazily.

"Kaya's in good shape," Jin continued. "Sharp, disciplined, more focused than I've seen her in years. She has every reason to win."

"Oh?" Setsuna's grin sharpened. "So you think Kazuo doesn't?"

"I didn't say that," Jin said. "But the match will tell me."

Vaskel chuckled without looking away from the arena.

The door creaked open. Idris stepped in alone, cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling in the light. He stopped a few paces from Setsuna.

"Didn't think you'd bother coming," Setsuna said.

"I'm curious to see Water Magic in action," Idris replied evenly. "Besides—" he nodded toward the squad stands "—Aoi's been begging me to bring him. Seems he wants a front-row seat to your boy."

Setsuna followed his gaze and spotted Aoi in the stands, scarf stirring in the breeze, eyes locked on the arena.

Meanwhile, in the squad section, Sora's ears twitched at the presence beside her. She turned, tail flicking. "Aoi? What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer, gaze fixed on the empty arena floor, like he was already watching the fight in his head.

A few girls in front glanced back and giggled.

Tetsu leaned forward. "I get why Kazuo hates him" he muttered, then shifted tone. "The layout this year… more dangerous than ever."

"Dangerous?" Sora asked.

"We've had walls, shifting floors, even weather effects before," Tetsu said. "But never spikes like these."

The arena platform gleamed under the sun, carved from pale, rune-etched stone. Around its edges, rows of vicious iron spikes jutted upward — close enough to make the perimeter deadly. The enchantments reinforcing the stone glowed faintly.

This match had no forfeits, no concessions. Weapons and spells were unrestricted. The platform felt less like sport and more like an execution ground, its glittering spikes promising blood.

High above, on the Royal Balcony, the same sun caught the gold trim of the rail. Lady Elyria leaned forward, her gaze fixed on the cruel display below.

"Father… were the spikes necessary?"

Cedric plucked a grape from a silver dish, biting slowly. "They're for suspense. Mostly. The fighters are skilled enough to avoid them."

"And Kazuo?"

He sipped wine before answering. "We'll see."

If he loses here, I can discard him without fear of revolt. If he wins, I’ll watch how far he climbs. Either way, the outcome doesn’t truly matter. The Tournament of Nobles feeds the masses, and if they want spikes… I’ll give them spikes.

The announcer's voice boomed over the coliseum."Ladies and gentlemen — your next match in the Tournament of Nobles!"

"Representing the First Division of the Royal Guard, under Captain Setsuna — for the first time in this tournament, we will witness the rare art of Water Magic… Kazuo!"

"And his opponent — representing the Third Division under Captain Jin — wielder of Stone Magic, a fighter said to break solid rock with her bare fists… Kaya!"

From opposite gates, they stepped into the sunlight at the exact same moment. The crowd erupted — cheers, jeers, and raw anticipation blending into a single wave.

Kazuo's sword hung at his side, heat pressing against his skin. Kaya's bare feet struck the stone without hesitation, her athletic frame carrying the weight of runed stone gauntlets.

Short black hair framed sharp features, yellow eyes locked on him like a chisel set to strike. She ignored the crowd entirely.

She looks even more furious than when we clashed in the battle royale.

They stood at opposite ends of the platform.

Kazuo rolled his shoulders, drawing his sword in a smooth, deliberate motion.

Kaya sank into a grounded stance, gauntleted fists raised. The grind of stone rasped in the air.

The roar ebbed into silence. Every heartbeat held.

The tension coiled tight.

The gong sounded.