The day came to an end with the matches for the last one hundred and twenty-eight finally concluded. The arena buzzed with noise and excitement until Annalise raised her voice above the crowd.
"Everyone! The matches for today have come to a close!" Her amplified voice carried over the arena, causing the cheers to quiet just enough for her to continue. "Congratulations to our remaining sixty-four participants! Now, the bracket for the last sixty-four will be revealed! From this point forward, there will be no more random matchups—each battle will be deliberate. The strongest will face the strongest!"
The crowd roared once more, stamping their feet and clapping in excitement.
In the waiting rooms, all sixty-four remaining participants—Kyle, Nuna, Serena, Zephyr, Zenith, Lucien, and many others—watched Annalise speak through the glowing screens on the wall. The tension in the air was thick enough to feel. Every single one of them knew that the playful matches were over. From this point on, every fight would be brutal, decisive, and unforgettable.
The air itself seemed to hum with anticipation.
Then, the screen flickered, and names began appearing in glowing golden script, branching into lines and boxes. The bracket for the final sixty-four appeared.
The spectators erupted in excitement once more. "Here we go!" "Let's see who's fighting who!"
A single look was all it took to realize that whoever had arranged this bracket had done it on purpose.
Kyle and Nuna were on the same side—the left side of the bracket. Kyle's name was placed near the bottom, Nuna's near the top. They wouldn't meet unless both of them made it to the final. It wasn't hard to guess why. Everyone could tell how close they were; putting them on the same side was the perfect setup for "drama."
Meanwhile, on the right side of the bracket, Zephyr, Zenith, and Lucien found their names grouped together.
Zephyr crossed her arms with a grin. "Looks like we'll be fighting each other before the final, sister."
Zenith nodded calmly. "Last eight."
Lucien looked at his own name above theirs and smirked. "Convenient. Whoever wins between you two will face me next."
It was, indeed, a bracket made for spectacle.
Serena's name sat in the middle of the left bracket, and her sharp eyes narrowed slightly. If she made it through the next two rounds, she would be facing Nuna in the quarterfinals. "Hah. That'll be fun," she muttered with a smirk.
Every challenger left was a powerhouse.
Among the sixty-four participants in the waiting room, almost everyone wore sect robes—sixty of them, to be exact. The exceptions were Kyle, Nuna, and Serena, who had made names for themselves over the course of the tournament.
But there was one more person—someone almost everyone overlooked.
At first glance, he was completely unremarkable. Dressed in all black, with a half-mask covering his face and only a narrow slit revealing his eyes, the young man lounged quietly in one corner of the room. His lean frame, dark brown hair, and plain clothing made him almost invisible.
Sylas.
He had clawed his way here through sheer determination and grit. Every single one of his fights had been close—painfully close. Since the very first round in the hidden realm, he had survived by the skin of his teeth. And yet, here he was, among the final sixty-four.
Kyle had recognized him instantly.
Sylas—one of the supporting characters in the novel this world was based on. Which meant, in a way, he had his own kind of plot armor. Later, he would become one of Lucien's closest allies. But right now, they didn't even know each other.
The reason Sylas struggled so much was simple—his strength didn't shine in open battle. The stage, where all eyes were on him, was the worst place for him.
Sylas was an assassin.
By everyone's estimation, he would be eliminated soon. The gamblers had already begun whispering and placing their bets against him. He was outmatched, on paper.
But as the names on the bracket solidified, Sylas's mask tilted slightly, as if he were studying his fate.
On the right side, his next potential opponent stood out. If he made it through one more round, he would face Zephyr in the last sixteen.
Sylas leaned back in his seat, his mask hiding his expression. Whether he looked bored or thoughtful, no one could tell.
Once everyone had seen the bracket and murmured amongst themselves, the organizers finally called the day to an end.
"Participants, that will be all for today. Rest well. Tomorrow, the duels for the last sixty-four begin!"
Kyle stretched as he rose, Nuna following beside him. "Let's get out of here," he said casually.
They walked out of the large arena, the evening sky casting long shadows across the streets. Behind them followed Sebastian, silent as ever.
"Sebastian," Kyle called once they had reached the edge of the city streets.
"Yes, young lord?" the butler replied instantly.
"You can go on ahead, back to the inn. Nuna and I are going to find somewhere to eat."
Sebastian hesitated, glancing at the pair. He wanted to object, but then he remembered who he was dealing with. These two were far from helpless—especially together.
"As you wish, Master Kyle," he said with a bow.
Then, without another word, Sebastian vanished, not leaving so much as a ripple of Qi behind.
Kyle smiled faintly, turning to Nuna. She smiled back.
His eyes locked onto hers, filled with a burning desire. With a gentle smile, he reached out and claimed her lips in a steamy kiss. His mouth moved over hers with urgency, his tongue demanding entry into the depths of her mouth.
Nuna accepted his kiss, her response matching the intensity of his own. Her hands slid up his chest, her fingers curling around his neck, pulling him closer. Their lips moved in a rhythm, each one matching the other's, creating a dance that was both passionate and tender.
As they broke apart, they were left gasping for air, a thin line of saliva linking their mouths like a tangible reminder of their shared passion. The air around them seemed to vibrate with the energy of their kiss, as if it had awakened a primal force that demanded more.
They stood there for a moment, their bodies swaying slightly as they struggled to regain control. Then, without a word, they turned and walked.
"Let's go find something to eat, my dear," he said softly.
"Un." Nuna nodded.
Their hands intertwined naturally as they walked into the bustling streets of the city—lanterns glowing.