Rain pours outside, hammering the windows.
Bianca lay weakly on the bed, her breath shallow and uneven. Sweat soaked her brow, her body trembling as her temperature rose. Rider knelt beside her, dipping a towel into a bowl of cold water. He wrung it out, carefully placing it on her forehead, concern etched across his face.
But the heat hadn't gone down. If anything, she felt even hotter.
He cupped her cheek gently, eyes wide with panic.
"She's burning up… I have to act fast."
He stood quickly, about to rush out to find help when a soft voice stopped him.
"Wait... please don't go," Bianca whispered, barely audible through her trembling lips.
Rider froze. He turned back, watching as her hand shakily reached out and grabbed his.
"No, you need treatment," he said, gripping her hand tightly. "I can't help you all by myself…"
His voice cracked, his eyes glossed with helplessness.
Still smiling faintly, Bianca kept her eyes closed.
"Listen to me… it's just a night fever. I'll be fine by morning, okay?"
Rider didn't believe her. He shook his head.
"I can't take that chance. You should drop out of the tournament. Please… you have a future ahead of you. What if the next match is your last? What if you die?"
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he leaned his head gently against her arm.
Bianca, gathering what little strength she had left, slowly opened her eyes. Her hand rose and landed lightly on Rider's head.
"You oaf…" she said weakly, a teasing smile forming. "There's no way I'm quitting now. And didn't I just say I'm fine? So stop worrying. The more you cry, the more punchable your face looks."
Rider blinked, startled—then chuckled softly through his tears.
Unnoticed, Azrael had been standing silently outside the door. He had overheard everything. He finally stepped inside and walked calmly to Bianca's side, kneeling without a word.
"She's burning up," Azrael muttered. "Relax, I've got this."
He dipped a fresh cloth into lukewarm water and wrung it out expertly.
"You don't fight a fever head-on. You ease it down. Cool water sponging—forehead, armpits, limbs. Trust me, it pulls the heat out."
Rider watched, confused but amazed.
Azrael glanced at him and scowled.
"Don't just stand there. Boil some water and dice up some ginger. Chop chop."
"Y-Yes, sir!" Rider saluted, then darted out to the kitchen.
Azrael turned back to Bianca, gently dabbing her skin. Her eyes fluttered open again, locking on him.
"Dad… I—"
"I don't want to hear it," Azrael cut in gently.
He sighed, a heavy one, remembering how he had searched the halls earlier, trying to find her room—only to stop when he heard her talking with Rider. He had heard every word.
"I already know," he said softly. "And I won't tell you to drop out, even if I want nothing more. But I know you. You won't stop."
He smiled.
"So fight on. And make me proud."
Bianca managed a tired but grateful smile.
"Thank you… Dad."
Meanwhile…
In another part of the building, Valen sat at the edge of his bed in silence. Thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the quiet room.
Zack stared at him, confused.
"Aren't you supposed to be some kind of beast hunter? Yeah, I heard," he said.
Valen smiled faintly.
"I've always thought that title was a bit cheesy."
Zack blinked. "Wait... you didn't come up with that title?"
Valen chuckled, his smirk widening into a grin.
"Hell no. You really think I'd go around self-praising?"
He paused, eyes dropping to the floor.
"The people in my hometown gave me that name. It's called Feralgrove—because it's surrounded by massive forests filled with beast animals. That's where I grew up."
Zack tilted his head, frowning slightly.
Valen stared at his own hands.
"I was born with really big hands. Huge."
Rider glanced down at them.
"Well yeah, that's obvious. You can literally squeeze a basketball like it's a sponge."
Valen laughed lightly.
"Yeah... but to be honest, they used to be my biggest curse. I hated them. Everything I touched broke. My grip was too strong."
He sighed.
"My dad told me to stop being selfish and think of how I could use them to help others. Said helping people comes first in this world. Though, honestly, I think he just wanted me to take over the family pharmacy."
Valen leaned back a little.
"Still, I tried. I wanted to help. I really did. I tried everything. Cooking? I broke all the cups. Burned down the kitchen. Delivery? Snapped the wagon handles. Slap contests? Yeah… let's just not talk about that. Even babysitting was a disaster—"
"Okay, okay!" Zack groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I get it."
Valen grinned.
"My point is—I thought I couldn't help anyone. That these hands were a curse. But I didn't stop trying. I wouldn't stop. I had to turn this disadvantage into something meaningful."
His tone shifted.
"Then one night, a lion from the forest attacked our neighborhood. I was at someone's house, helping wash dishes—hiding a plate I'd broken—when I heard a scream."
His eyes darkened with the memory.
"I sprinted toward the noise. There it was—a six-foot lion beast, growling at my neighbors, eyes full of bloodlust. I froze. I couldn't move. I was scared... properly scared, for the first time in my life."
He clenched his fist tightly.
"I was lucky that when I burst into the room, it turned its attention to me. It leapt—and out of pure reflex, I threw a punch. All my energy, all my fear, everything I had. I knocked its teeth in—and its head off."
Zack's eyes widened.
"You... killed it?"
Valen nodded slowly.
"Yeah. That was the first time I realized I'd been using my strength wrong. That maybe... I could matter. I could save people."
He looked over at Zack.
"I felt like a superhero that day. So I started going into the forest, protecting my hometown. Lions, bears, you name it. Then one day, I heard about this tournament. It would decide who'd wield the Red Katana to fight off Dextin if he returned."
Valen's expression darkened again.
"And I was scared. Not of Dextin or the tournament—but of realizing how powerless we humans really are. I thought I was strong. I thought we were weak. So I joined, not to win, not to get the katana, but because I thought maybe, just maybe, I could save the day again."
He paused, then smiled softly.
"But then I met them. Kael. The old man. A girl. And... you, Zack."
Zack blinked as Valen continued.
"I realized I wasn't the only strong one. There are others—just as powerful, just as determined. That's why I'm here. To fight for something greater. And to remind you—"
Valen looked him dead in the eye.
"Not every opponent is your enemy. Think about that."
Zack stayed quietly, repeating the words under his breath.
"...Not every opponent is my enemy..."
Valen laid back on the bed and looked over at Zack, who was still sitting on the couch.
"We should get some sleep. Got a long day tomorrow."
Zack nodded and laid down.
Silence filled the room.
"...You know what, Valen?" Zack said, breaking the quiet. "When I first met you, I thought you were a joke. A waste of space."
Valen's eyes widened slightly.
"But now... you're not that bad. I guess."
Zack closed his eyes, drifting off. Valen smiled.
And soon, he too fell asleep.