The camp woke the way rumors always woke it.
Not with a bell.
Not with a command.
But with the slow, contagious spread of voices that carried urgency even when they tried to sound casual.
By midday, the main lanes between tents were crowded with small knots of participants pretending to stretch, pretending to sharpen weapons, pretending to do anything except stand too close to the same circle of whispers.
"Did you hear?"
"I heard Captain Xiao engaged him."
"No...he clashed with him. Near the eastern perimeter."
"The Moon Ghost?"
"The Moon Ghost."
Someone scoffed as if disbelief could make it safer. "That's impossible. The tournament grounds are sealed."
"And yet the barrier flickered last night," another replied. "You think people didn't see it? You think the guards didn't feel it?"
A third voice cut in, low and uneasy. "What if it's connected."
"Connected to what?"
To that.
No one said the Pavilion aloud immediately. Even speaking the word felt like calling attention.
