Chapter 9 (The King's Arrival)

Dust was still swirling in the air when silence fell over the clearing. The girl was breathing heavily, her blades still clenched in her fingers, but they no longer trembled from the tension. She looked at Nait—not with defiance, not with hatred, but with something that resembled… acceptance of the fact.

Slowly, she lowered her weapons.

— I surrender.

Her voice was steady, but exhaustion seeped through it.

Finn, who was kneeling on one knee, grimaced.

— Just like that? — he exhaled, struggling to get up. — After all this?

The girl didn't answer, just shifted her gaze to Nait.

He remained silent. The echo of the power he had just awakened still rang in his head. The black vortex was gone, but the feeling of its presence lingered, as if something foreign had taken root deep inside him. Something that should have never woken up.

He looked at her—she really had surrendered. No tricks, no hidden intent to strike from behind. Her breathing was uneven, but there was no fear in her eyes, only acceptance.

Nait took a step forward.

— Your crystal.

She didn't move, but her fingers gripped the hilts of her swords just a little tighter.

— I'm not going to break it.

Finn's head snapped up.

— What?!

The girl's eyes widened slightly, but almost instantly turned cold again. She seemed surprised but didn't ask why.

— Are you sure? — her voice was quiet.

— If I wanted to, I would've done it already.

She stared at him for a few seconds, then slowly sheathed her blades.

— I'll remember this.

Finn cursed under his breath as he struggled to his feet.

— Are you fucking serious?! She nearly crushed us with her damn gravity, and you just… let her walk away?

Nait didn't answer. He was still looking at the girl.

She held his gaze for a moment, then tilted her head slightly, as if making a farewell gesture.

— Thank you.

Turning around, she walked away, her steps steady but unhurried.

— Oh, come on! — Finn clenched his fists. — You're not even gonna ask her name?!

The girl stopped but didn't turn back.

— Did you ask?

Finn opened his mouth, but no words came out.

She turned her head slightly to the side, but never looked back at them.

— We're destined to meet again. You'll find out then.

With that, she disappeared into the forest. Her silhouette dissolved among the trees, and soon, even the sound of her footsteps faded.

Finn scoffed and turned to Nait.

— Explain.

Nait shoved his hands into his pockets, but his fingers still trembled slightly.

— I don't know.

Finn exhaled in frustration.

— Great. Just great.

Silence fell over the clearing once again. Only the soft whisper of the wind rustled through the leaves as they stood there, in the aftermath of one of the hardest fights of their lives.

— So, what now? — Finn finally asked, watching Nait.

Nait lifted his gaze to the sky, where the black void caused by his power had just been.

— Now… — he looked down at his hands. — I need to figure out what's happening to me.

Finn muttered curses under his breath as he checked the crystal on his chest.

— Shit… Either I'm screwed, or I have the worst damn luck in this tournament.

Nait watched in silence, his brow slightly furrowed. He had fully expected to see the bluish stone crumble before his eyes, but… it didn't.

Finn ran a finger over a crack.

— Wait…

The crystal still glowed. Faintly, but it was there.

— You see this?

Nait nodded.

— It's not broken.

Finn blinked.

— What? How? She hit it!

Nait tilted his head, examining the stone.

— Maybe the strike wasn't strong enough.

— Not strong enough? Did you see her blades? They were flying faster than I think!

Finn tapped the crystal a few times with his knuckles, then let out a sharp breath and smirked.

— Guess I got lucky.

— Looks like it.

Finn hesitated for a moment, then stepped back.

— Alright, time to split. I'm off to farm more points.

— Yeah.

Finn rolled his eyes.

— There you go again with your one-word answers. Do you even know how to hold a conversation?

— Yes.

— And you just… don't want to try?

— No.

Finn sighed and waved a hand.

— Whatever. But remember this: next time we meet, I'll be stronger.

Nait smirked slightly, just a corner of his lips lifting.

— We'll see.

Finn turned and strode toward the forest, disappearing into the dark trees.

Nait watched him go, then turned in the opposite direction.

— Yeah, we'll meet again.

They left, each going their own way.

Nait moved through the forest, his steps silent. Still processing everything that had happened, he instinctively dodged roots and sidestepped low branches.

That fight had been… strange. It was the first time he had fought alongside a stranger, and they had actually done pretty well. Finn wasn't just a loudmouth—he knew how to fight. But the girl…

She had them under control. Manipulated gravity so precisely that it felt like the earth itself was squeezing the life out of them. If it weren't for…

He stopped.

What was that?

A flash in his mind—he had seen that darkness, felt it sucking the air from his lungs. A single second—and he had nearly destroyed everything.

But now, he couldn't even repeat it.

— Hmph, you're way too tense. That's no way to live.

Nait's head snapped to the side.

Sitting on a massive tree root, one leg dangling lazily, was Zein.

Completely relaxed, as if nothing had happened. He was tossing a small stone in the air, catching it effortlessly each time.

— What, not happy to see me? — he smirked.

Nait exhaled, letting go of the hilt of his sword.

— Zein.

— Alive and still standing.

Zein hopped down easily, taking a few steps toward his friend.

— Where the hell have you been? I've already had my share of fun here.

Nait eyed him carefully.

— What, someone actually gave you a challenge?

Zein chuckled.

— Almost.

He tilted his head slightly, gazing off in thought.

— I ran into an archer. And you know what? He was good.

Nait raised an eyebrow.

— But he didn't win.

— Didn't win, — Zein grinned. — At the end of the day, he was weak. Smart, quick, but just didn't have enough power to actually give me a fight.

Nait nodded.

— And the monsters?

Zein scoffed.

— Oh, now that was boring as hell. Slaughtered a bunch of beasts, and not a single one put up a real fight. A couple of dumb golems, something like a shadow hound… I was expecting a challenge, but…

He spread his arms.

— Where the hell is it?

Nait narrowed his eyes slightly.

— So, everything feels too easy for you.

— Exactly. What about you?

Nait held his gaze.

— Mine was… harder.

— Huh…

— I fought in a team. A guy and I against a girl.

Zein tilted his head slightly.

— You? In a team? Well, now I've heard everything.

— Yeah, didn't expect it either.

— And?

Nait hesitated for a moment before saying:

— The guy, Finn, wasn't bad. Loud, cocky, but not an idiot. We handled it… almost.

— "Almost" is an interesting choice of words.

Nait sighed.

— She controlled gravity.

Zein raised an amused eyebrow.

— Ah, well, that explains why you're not in the mood for jokes.

— We won, but she… surrendered.

Zein studied him for a moment.

— Did you break her crystal?

— No.

— Huh… — Zein smirked slightly. — Doesn't sound like you. Normally, you don't leave loose ends.

Nait said nothing.

Zein clapped a hand on his shoulder.

— Well, whatever. You're alive, that's what matters.

Zein stretched, arms behind his head, letting out a lazy yawn.

— So, you got a real fight, and I wasted my time on warm-ups. — He grinned. — But this isn't just a casual stroll.

Nait tilted his head slightly.

— Something happened?

Zein gestured toward the horizon.

— The qualifiers are almost over. Time's running out.

Nait stayed silent, processing that.

— And what's your plan?

— Move faster. — Zein smirked. — Or we'll end up as background characters in this tournament.

Nait nodded.

— Agreed.

Zein turned and started walking forward, effortlessly leaping over roots.

— Well, shall we go find some trouble?

Nait followed without a word.

The forest gradually thinned, and the air around them grew heavy. Nait and Zein walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It felt as if the world itself was shifting—the trees became dry and lifeless, their branches twisted like skeletal fingers clawing at the sky.

The deeper they went, the quieter it became. The wind had vanished, the leaves no longer rustled, even the sound of their footsteps seemed muffled.

— Something's off, — Nait muttered, stopping.

Zein narrowed his eyes, scanning the area.

Before them lay a massive crater, surrounded by ancient stone slabs covered in strange markings. The ground was cracked, as if something beneath it was trying to break free.

At its center stood a throne—old, massive, made of black stone, partially buried in the earth.

— A gods' graveyard? — Zein scoffed. — Definitely not a place for a picnic.

Nait took a slow step forward, feeling something stir in the depths of that ominous pit.

Then, a sound rang out.

Not a roar. Not a howl.

A bell.

Deep, resonant, vibrating through their very consciousness. The air shuddered, as if reality itself was struggling to remain stable.

The throne trembled.

— Now this… — Zein murmured with a grin. — This is getting interesting.

He glanced at Nait.

— Shall we fight as a team?

Before Nait could respond, the ground beneath them cracked.

From the ruins, the King rose.

Towering, like an ancient curse, clad in armor etched with words in a lost language. His face was hidden beneath a black crown, and where his eyes should have been, there were burning voids of fire. In his hand, he held a broken glaive, leaking black tongues of flame.

The air around him warped, as if reality itself was trying to reject his existence.

As he took his first step forward, the bell tolled again, and the light around them began to fade.

The King raised his weapon, and at that moment, even the shadows around Nait trembled, as if trying to escape.

Nait clenched his fists, but not from fear—from anticipation.

— If we take him down, we'll score more points than anyone else. We're lucky to have found him.

Zein smirked, his eyes burning with excitement.

— Lucky? Interesting word for someone staring death in the face.

His gaze swept over the battlefield.

Scattered bones of fallen warriors lay around them. Some skeletons still clutched swords in their hands, but most had been pierced by blades driven into the ground.

Zein narrowed his eyes, scanning the remains.

His gaze caught on one particular sword.

Unlike the others, which were covered in rust and cracks, this one was untouched by time. Its hilt was wrapped in dark leather, and its blade gleamed with cold silver, even in the dim light.

But what stood out the most was the skeleton holding it.

It was different from the rest. It wore remnants of ceremonial armor, and atop its skull sat a cracked crown.

— Oh, now that's a nice-looking sword, — Zein muttered.

He stepped forward, crouched down, and wrenched the weapon free from the bony fingers.

The moment he did, a strange shiver ran through his body, as if, for a split second, the sword had recognized its new owner.

Nait glanced at him briefly but said nothing.

Zein spun the sword in his hand, testing its balance.

— Alright, let's make this interesting. I won't teleport.

Nait's head snapped toward him.

— What?

— I want to see if we can beat him in a real fight, not just by dodging.

The Abyssal King lifted his head.

His burning eyes locked onto Zein.

A new toll of the bell echoed.

And in that moment, he moved forward.