When we returned, stepping through the gate, Griffith was already standing in the center of the room. His usual note-taking tools had been set aside. Now, he simply waited, focused and still.
Amei and Serith stood just behind him, their expressions calm and serene on the surface, but laced with a tension that was harder to define. Not hostility, exactly, but a quiet gravity that hinted at the significance of the battle ahead.
I emerged from the gate first, with Synthia and Mei close behind. Our footsteps careful and measured. The playful mood we’d shared earlier dissolved the moment we crossed the threshold, swallowed by the weight in the air. The tension in the room pressed in from all sides like a storm.
I stepped forward to stand beside Griffith, while the others held back slightly, forming a loose triangle.
Serith moved ahead, her voice cutting cleanly through the silence.
“I’ve been informed of a small irregularity,” she began, crisp and direct. “We’ll have an audience.”
I raised a brow, brushing off the statement with a shrug, not quite grasping the concern in her tone.
“That’s not much different from before. Why’s that so unusual?”
Amei stepped forward, her voice softer, more measured.
“Typically, matches between champions are conducted in private. Sharing one’s techniques in front of potential future opponents… it’s not ideal.”
That made sense, but I waited as she elaborated further.
“There’s no formal rule against it,” she continued, “and most of us... Guardians don’t concern ourselves with the abilities of unevolved fighters. But...”
Serith finished smoothly as Amei trailed off. “That pointy-eared bastard decided to insert himself into the proceedings.”
It struck me as strange. Not like he needed much more information on me. Sure, I had grown stronger, and maybe he assumed I would. But was his doubt in Kris really that deep?
“What’s he to?” I asked, voicing the confusion.
Amei shook her head slightly. “Hard to say, but it shouldn’t interfere with the match.” She cast a glance at Serith, half-amused. “My guess? He’s just trying to rattle his old student.”
It had been said earlier by Drema, not so directly, but it wasn’t hard to figure out their relationship. But what I wondered was if that was before or after she evolved. Was evolving already enough to qualify someone for Guardianship over a section of the world?
I glanced toward Serith, our eyes briefly locking. The look she gave me made it clear: this wasn’t the time for questions. But I would ask her eventually. More and more, I was starting to realize how vital it was to gather every fragment of knowledge I could—even the ones that seemed trivial.
Next to me, Mei shifted uncomfortably, her fingers fidgeting, thumbs circling each other in nervous spirals.
“You’re sure they won’t interfere?” she asked, her voice small. “We’ll be able to fight… freely?”
Synthia chuckled under her breath, clearly entertained. Perhaps by Mei’s anxiety, or maybe by the oddity of a little girl so determined to battle me. Still, I chose to believe her eagerness came from wanting to demonstrate the path she’d introduced me to.
“There won’t be any issues,” Amei said, her tone firm with finality. “We’ll ensure that.”
“What about Kris?” I asked next. “Will he be there too?”
“Kris?” Mei echoed, blinking up at me with innocent curiosity.
“Some horned guy that wiped the floor with me,” I explained to her quickly. “Having a few surprises for someone as strong as he was would be nice.”
“Unfortunately,” Serith answered, “But knowing you, Peter, by the time your rematch arrives, you’ll have more than a few surprises in store. And if the stars align… you might even win.”
Her words held a confidence that had not been there the first time I met her. Maybe it was the elements I had developed or just that she paid more attention to my own developed methods of training, but this time… Something close to pride was there.
Not just in me—but a tone of knowing. She, for whatever reason, held a confidence in my ability to grow. But another question popped into mind with her words.
“When exactly will the next fight be?” I asked.
“It should be another week or two. No less than that,” Serith replied without hesitation.
Mei tugged lightly at my sleeve, peering up at me with bright, unblinking eyes. “Why are you talking like you’re going to win?”
I blinked a few times, thrown off by the sincerity of her question. Her face was small, open, still untouched by the kind of bruising life experience that showed in others. She looked so much younger than Kazriel, despite appearances suggesting otherwise.
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He had seemed closer to my age at the time we fought. Until now, that had been my youngest opponent. Illusion or not. Mei, on the other hand, barely reached my chest—my waist at best. The idea of losing to her felt... surreal.
“How confident are you?” I asked, smirking as I tilted my head to meet her defiant gaze.
She placed a hand firmly over her chest and puffed it out with dramatic flair. “I’ll win. No way I’m losing to someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” I shot back with mock offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
This kid had a gift for provoking reactions. Her smirk matched mine almost perfectly, an expression both proud and challenging.
She probably just means dense, Luna chimed in helpfully.
I rolled my eyes and dropped the subject, never receiving an actual answer, as the two women leading our mission began to approach. I drew a steadying breath, already bracing for what was next, and glanced over at Griffith, who had remained silent through the entire exchange.
His demeanor hadn’t changed from stone-still and observant. But there was something distant in his stare. His gaze shifted from object to object, pausing just long enough to absorb what he needed before moving on. Always watching. Always calculating. A man who took his job seriously.
“Are you all ready?” Serith asked, stopping in front of us.
I nodded, along with the other three, an indication that Synthia would be coming too.
A flash of color enveloped me and in the next moment, sensation became overwhelming, The world twisted, heat and cold blended, scraping against my skin for a period of time that felt far too long.
Thankfully, it was more of a discomfort rather than actual pain I had experienced in travels before.
The world settled into focus, the new surroundings faintly familiar but altered. I wondered if the place was routinely renovated. Last time, every surface had been glass, reflecting the sprawling galaxies beyond and warping them in strange, dreamlike patterns.
Now, the setting had changed. The glass still existed, but it was no longer dominant. It lined the perimeters. The walls, corners, even the central floor, but much had been replaced.
Dark walls rose around us now, traced with sharp geometric lines of glowing gold that hummed softly with power. The design felt less ethereal and more grounded.
“What the heck happened to this place?” I asked Serith, turning to face her.
She lifted a brow, her crystalline features shifting with confusion. “What do you m—oh! You think this is the same?”
I scanned the area again, catching sight of several creatures that were vaguely familiar, with an eerie resemblance to Nova. “Isn’t it?”
Amei shook her head gently. “My guess is you were in the Circle of Worlds before?” She looked to Serith, who confirmed with a nod. “That’s the location where champions are registered.”
Griffith’s demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly. His attention sharpened, eyes sweeping over the alien forms around us. He ignored everything else, focused solely on the inhabitants. Curiosity simmered behind his restraint, but his control never wavered.
Without another word, Serith began walking toward one of the strange elevators I remembered from before. We followed closely behind her, each step echoing softly in the solemn space.
Despite myself, I felt jitters beginning to build. Anticipation. Nerves. Mei, however, was faring worse.
Sweat beaded at the nape of her neck. Her legs betrayed her confidence now and then, trembling for the briefest moments before she willed them steady again. The tension in her movements exhibited her age more than anything she said.
A stark contrast from just before.
I nudged her shoulder gently with mine, drawing her attention, and gave her a reassuring smile.
She returned it, weak but genuine.
Turning my attention to her Guardian, I was reminded again of the deep disconnect that existed between these people and the world I knew. Amei clearly took pride in her new champion—young, and I assume powerful—but still... she was twelve.
A potential match to the death. Maybe that kind of outcome was rare. Something reserved for the worst of circumstances, but the possibility was there. And Mei… she didn’t belong in that.
She came from a world more like mine.
Modern, likely supported by laws built on something other than raw strength and cruelty. A place with systems, but also safety nets for those who lacked the natural ability to claw their way to the top.
Not like the world I had been dragged into.
A world of back-alley beatings, abductions, assassinations, and schemes layered within schemes. I'd spent months trying to adjust, and that was at eighteen. Nineteen? Doesn't matter. Even now, there were times that I refused to accept the reality of the situation.
Synthia edged closer to Mei, and their arms touched in a quiet gesture of support. It was simple, but meaningful.
I suppose the only silver lining was that if Mei couldn’t pull herself together before the match, the odds would likely tip in my favor.
And… Maybe there was a way to meet with Mei again after this.
I couldn’t help but hope. Hope that time with us—our group—might chip away at the detachment from being raised under the weight of legacy and power that stretched across generations.
As the lift slowed, I turned my attention forward. Through the opening doors, two familiar faces came into view.
Serith groaned, her annoyance audible at the sight of that smug smile and look directly aimed at her.
The doors slid fully open.
“Serith! I’m so thrilled to see your champion again.” The voice was smooth, charismatic in a way that grated. “I’ve heard so much about him from…”
His gaze shifted and locked onto me, those turquoise eyes narrowing, reptilian pupils slicing through the color like slits in obsidian. “Some have taken great interest in you, young man. I only wish I’d known sooner.”
A deep chill slid down my spine.
There weren’t many people who could’ve told him about me. Nova, maybe, though she only knew what I’d shared during registration, and that wasn’t much.
Serith, who I doubted would ever help this man.
That left the others. The ones I’d angered. The ones who whispered about traitors. The ones who still watched.
Even Serith had hinted at it when we first met. Something along the lines of checking on me to see what all the fuss was about. The ones whose interest in me wasn’t curiosity, but retribution.
Maybe Drema wasn’t here to provoke Serith. Maybe this time… I was the target. And the deeper truth was that he wasn’t acting alone.
This man, whose very presence crawled beneath my skin, was working for him.
Maybe someone else that was just a higher level subordinate. I don't know.
But ultimately, it was only that thing.
The Great Ancestor.