Dawn came too early.
Sun knew this because he had closed his eyes for what felt like three breaths before Brin kicked his door open hard enough to offend hinges.
"Up!"
He sat bolt upright, half reaching for his sword.
"We're under attack?"
"Yes," she said. "By schedule."
She threw a towel at his face.
"Wash. Eat. Tremble privately."
The door slammed shut again.
Sun stared at it.
"I miss enemies who announce themselves."
From outside came Rhea's voice.
"I don't. Surprise keeps romance alive."
"There is no romance!"
Nyra's voice followed a beat later.
"Too loud."
He smiled before he could stop himself.
The warehouse was already awake.
Workers crowded the courtyard placing bets, shouting odds, and pretending chores still mattered.
Someone had painted a banner overnight:
SPOON KING BREAKS BLUE BOY
Sun froze under it.
Brin saw his face.
"It's catchy."
"It's treason."
Samira entered wearing traveling silks in tournament colors—black and gold.
"You're late."
"I woke three minutes ago."
"Then you're behind schedule."
She handed him a wrapped parcel.
Inside lay the same black combat tunic from yesterday, cleaned and fitted tighter, along with reinforced wrist wraps and a dark sash.
Sun looked up.
"You prepared battle clothes overnight?"
"I prepared branding."
"That answer remains sinister."
"It remains profitable."
Nyra stood nearby already dressed in simple dark clothes, hair tied back. Around her wrist was one of the wooden Spoon King badges.
Sun blinked.
"You kept that?"
She crossed her arms.
"It amuses me."
Rhea leaned over his shoulder.
"She slept with it."
Nyra moved so fast the knife nearly shaved Rhea's braid.
Rhea laughed and backflipped away.
Sun decided silence was wisdom.
Rare personal growth.
They traveled through Blackstone with half the district following behind.
Children ran beside them.
Workers shouted blessings and terrible advice.
Street vendors tried to sell commemorative snacks.
One man offered meat skewers called Lucan's Last Words.
Sun pointed.
"That feels premature."
The vendor shrugged.
"Then buy two later."
The city stadium rose ahead like a mountain carved into circles.
Black stone tiers climbed skyward.
Lion banners snapped in the wind.
Thousands of voices rolled from within like thunder trapped in stone.
Sun's stomach tightened.
This was no warehouse crowd.
No alley.
No private duel.
This many eyes could crush a person.
Varen, walking beside him, spoke without looking over.
"You're breathing shallow."
"I noticed."
"Breathe deeper."
"That's your wisdom?"
"It's enough for now."
Sun obeyed.
Air in.
Air out.
Still nervous.
But steadier.
Inside the competitor's entrance, the world changed.
The roar of the crowd became a living wall.
Officials shouted names.
Healers rushed past.
Fighters stretched.
Servants carried gear.
Nobles posed.
One man vomited discreetly into a decorative urn.
Sun respected the honesty.
He was led to the waiting chamber for first-round entrants.
Lucan Teryn was already there.
Of course.
Dressed in blue armor lacquered to shine.
Hair perfect.
Jaw tense.
Two servants adjusted straps while a trainer whispered aggressively in his ear.
Lucan looked up and stiffened.
"You came."
Sun glanced around theatrically.
"No, this is a dream. Yours specifically."
Lucan dismissed his servants with a flick.
They fled gratefully.
"You've made a joke of my name."
Sun's smile faded slightly.
"No. Your behavior did that."
Lucan stepped closer.
"You think because crowds laugh you've won something?"
Sun met his eyes.
"I think you've never been told no enough."
Lucan's face changed.
The arrogance cracked for a moment.
Underneath was something younger.
Something scared.
"You know nothing," Lucan said quietly.
Sun did not answer immediately.
Because he recognized that tone too.
People raised on pressure often wore cruelty like borrowed armor.
Lucan continued, voice low and bitter.
"My father said if I lose to you, I shouldn't come home."
The room went silent around them.
Even the nearby official pretended not to hear.
Sun blinked.
That… he had not expected.
Lucan laughed once without humor.
"So yes. Fight hard. I need to."
For one brief second, Sun almost pitied him.
Then Lucan lifted his chin and sneered again.
"I'll still enjoy humiliating you."
Pity died quickly.
"There he is," Sun said. "I wondered where the idiot went."
A horn blasted.
Officials called names.
"Preliminary Match One! Lucan Teryn versus Sun!"
The tunnel gates opened.
Light flooded in.
The roar of the arena hit full force.
Lucan's face hardened into noble confidence.
Sun's heartbeat hammered against his ribs.
They walked side by side through the stone tunnel.
Dust underfoot.
Crowd above.
Sun could hear chanting already.
"Teryn! Teryn!"
From another section:
"SPOON KING! SPOON KING!"
He almost tripped.
Lucan smirked.
"You're cheering for a joke."
Sun answered softly.
"Still cheering."
They emerged into sunlight.
The arena was enormous.
Tier upon tier packed with bodies.
Flags.
Merchants.
Bookmakers.
Nobles in shaded boxes.
Sect disciples watching coldly.
The fighting platform spread wide beneath them in white stone ringed with bronze lines.
At the center stood the referee.
High above, Samira leaned forward from a private balcony.
Brin was already shouting insults at Lucan's family.
Rhea waved betting slips wildly.
Nyra stood silent at the railing, hands clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened.
Sun saw her.
Something in him steadied.
The referee raised one hand.
"Combatants to center!"
They approached.
Lucan rolled his shoulders.
Blue qi flickered faintly around his fists.
He had hidden more training than Sun thought.
Interesting.
The referee spoke sharply:
"Victory by surrender, ring-out, incapacitation, or my decision. No killing. No outside interference. Begin on signal."
He stepped back.
The crowd held its breath.
Lucan smiled thinly.
"You're about to learn class matters."
Sun adjusted the cheap charm bracelet still tied under his wrist wrap.
Then smiled back.
"And you're about to learn crowds love a fall."
The referee's hand chopped downward.
"Begin!"
Lucan exploded forward faster than expected.
To be continued...