In the upper floor of the old stone tavern, the three of them sat around a circular table. A torn map lay at the center, surrounded by scattered papers filled with names, faces, and cryptic notes.
Jane flipped open a worn leather file and said,
"Five contestants raise suspicion… but one doesn't even try to hide."
She placed a photo on the table — a tall man, sharp features, draped in a dark robe, eyes glinting with the weight of centuries.
"Karov."
William looked up. No explanation was needed. The name alone was enough.
Jane continued,
"He's not a contestant. He came openly — as a High Elder of the Phoenix Sect. And yet, something about his presence here is off. He's not here for diplomacy. He's watching… waiting."
Cain scoffed.
"When Elders descend from their thrones to attend a tournament, it's never just about the fights."
William nodded slowly.
"Karov is the target."
**
A soft knock on the door interrupted the silence.
A Blue Bird agent entered, dressed in a shadow-black cloak, carrying a leather case.
Without a word, he placed the case on the table, opened it, and laid out three forged identification cards.
"Your new identities. Fully certified, tied to neutral sects.
Ray Solen — 27 — swordsman from the southern provinces.
Lia Orin — 24 — spiritual healer.
Dirk Vane — 41 — former guard of a defunct sect."
Jane picked up Cain's card and smirked.
"Forty-one? So… you're old now, Grandpa Dirk?"
Cain snatched the card from her hand, eyes narrow.
"Old enough to knock you out. Young enough to do it twice."
She chuckled.
"Don't forget the wrinkles. You might need an extra mask."
William cracked a faint smile, but said nothing.
**
By dawn, they had reached the Grand Arena — a massive stone structure at the heart of Hyang City.
Crowds swarmed the stands, flags fluttered, and the combat ring at the center pulsed with unspoken tension.
In the waiting hall behind the arena, the masked participants stood in silence. Black masks hid their faces, but their eyes betrayed sharp awareness.
Then came the announcement:
"Elders of the Great Sects — enter!"
Silence swept over the arena.
One by one, the sect Elders stepped in — robed in their distinct colors, each a symbol of history and blood.
And when the last Elder entered, time seemed to freeze.
Karov.
Cloaked in the Phoenix robes, marked with golden sigils, his presence alone silenced even the most rowdy.
Jane whispered,
"That's him. The target."
William gave the faintest nod — but before he could speak, a side gate opened.
And she walked in.
A woman. Radiant. Terrifying. Beautiful in a way that stole the breath from the entire arena.
Silver hair cascading down her back, her sword gleaming behind her, her eyes glowing with a confidence only death itself could shape.
The whispers erupted.
"Is that—?"
"No way… it's her!"
"The Sword Queen!"
"Alys Vyr!!"
The crowd roared. People stood. Gasps filled the air as her mere presence outshone the other contestants.
Cain stared wide-eyed.
"I've never seen anything like her…"
Jane was frozen, unable to look away.
But William… only glanced once. Then said in a quiet, cold murmur:
"Hmm. So that's how it is."
**
Among the masks, the crowds, and the illusion of names —
The real game had just begun.