The Phoenix Tournament grounds were vast — a hidden complex built beneath the very bones of the capital colosseum. The winners of the first trial, now whittled down to just under five hundred, were guided by silent guards through a maze of stone corridors lit with torches and humming braziers.
Alden followed the others with quiet intensity. His body still ached in places, but strangely, his wounds had vanished. Bandages were tucked neatly around his core and legs, but not a single trace of swelling or bruising remained. He flexed a hand thoughtfully. Something wasn't right — he should've been bedridden.
He glanced sideways at Leonhardt, who walked beside him, yawning.
"You sleep well?" Alden asked flatly.
"Define sleep," Leonhardt muttered, rubbing his temples.
"You look like the dead. Not even the charming kind."
Leonhardt shot him a sideways look. "You're one to talk. You were basically a pile of bones and broken pride a day ago. But here you are. Walking. Grunting. Brooding."
Alden narrowed his eyes. "I don't brood."
"You literally just brooded."
Before Alden could reply, a guard halted the procession.
"This is where you'll stay for the next month," the man said, voice stern. "Train well. Fight harder. You'll be summoned when the next trial begins. Rooms are gender-separated. No visitors past curfew."
The contestants fanned out. The structure had barracks-like wings for males and females, each furnished with private bunks, washrooms, and a central sparring hall. The walls were old but clean, the floors polished stone. The air smelled of sweat and anticipation.
Leonhardt dropped onto his assigned bunk, face-down, without a word.
Althea poked her head in from the hallway. "You're going to sleep now? You just got here."
"I was up all night healing your favorite little punching bag," he mumbled into the mattress.
Althea entered, closed the door quietly, and sat beside him.
"You didn't have to, you know."
Leonhardt turned over slowly. His eyes were bloodshot.
"I wanted to. That idiot's too stubborn to stay alive on his own."
There was a pause.
"...Why do you care so much?" she asked, not unkindly.
He hesitated. Then, a small smile.
"Because I'm investing," he whispered.