Chapter Thirteen: “Too Much to See”

Chapter Thirteen: "Too Much to See"

Tournament Arc – Prelude II

The sun rose lazily over the floating citadel of Tenkai, casting long, golden shafts of light through the dormitory halls. Inside the stone corridor of Dormitory Epsilon, Sakura Natsumi stomped toward her destination, a tightly wrapped scroll clutched in one hand and irritation boiling in her chest.

The scroll had the wrong class roster. Again.

"This is what happens when you let half-awake clerics do data entry," she muttered under her breath, her crimson ponytail flicking with every sharp step.

She stopped outside a door halfway down the corridor.

Takashi Satoru's room.

She raised a fist to knock. Paused. The door was cracked.

A flicker of aura pulsed from inside—quiet, low, but unmistakable. Sakura sighed.

"Hey, flame-for-brains. I've got something you need. Don't make me—"

She nudged the door open, scroll still in hand.

And froze.

Inside, Takashi stood at the center of the room, shirtless, muscles flexed in the slow rhythm of cooldown stretches.

A towel was slung across his shoulders. His back was to her, his silhouette framed by the pale morning light filtering through the open window.

He turned at her voice—his face unreadable, but clearly aware of the situation.

Eight defined and solid abs. Veins like wire traced his arms. His torso shimmered faintly with residual aura—red-black threads dancing just above the skin.

"You knock louder than most assassins," he said calmly.

Sakura blinked, once.

Twice.

Words died on her tongue. Then she rallied.

"Put on a damn shirt, perv."

Takashi smirked. "You're the one who barged in."

She looked away fast, cheeks tinged with heat, thrusting the scroll toward him as if that had been the point all along.

"I brought your roster update. They finally fixed your name, so don't get cocky just because you've got… you know, protagonist abs."

He took the scroll casually, glancing at it.

"You noticed?" he teased.

"Go to hell, eight abs boy," she snapped, spinning toward the door.

His laughter was quiet, but not mocking. Familiar. Almost warm.

As she stepped out, her fox familiar—still sleepy—trotted behind her and muttered under its breath.

"Weird people...…"

High Above Tenkai

Far above the dorms, suspended between layers of glowing sigils and floating combat rings, the Tenkai Teaching Council convened inside a spiraling platform of obsidian crystal. Each seat bore the emblem of one of the Six Great Clans.

At the head of the circular table stood Headmaster Yorei, robed in eclipse-colored silk, his presence more elemental than human. He spoke only in ritual. Beside him stood the instructors of each year.

Rengoku Arashi, Fourth Year Combat Master, arms crossed in silence.

Amara Zenin, Third Year Sensei of Energy Channeling, golden-eyed and smirking.

Kyouda Matsumoto, Second Year Shikigami Strategist, tall and indifferent.

Kaien Tsukihara, First Year Soul Systems instructor, pale and anxious.

The sky above them shimmered as a massive projection ignited—the Crest Clash Tournament List, glowing in midair, each name paired in fire.

Eyes locked on the matchups.

Amara leaned in.

"A Fourth Year going against one of my Second Years? You let this happen?"

Kyouda scoffed.

"It's the rule. They climb, or they fall."

Kaien, looking at the listings, frowned deeply.

"My students haven't seen death yet. And you're throwing them to apex predators?"

Rengoku's voice cut through, low and calm.

"Then it's time they meet death... and learn to look back."

Kaien turned to him. "Even Airi? She's just starting to stabilize."

Rengoku didn't blink.

"That's exactly why she needs to fight. If she doesn't now, she never will."

A glowing crest expanded across the listing—one name flickering brighter than the rest:

Match One: Takashi Satoru vs. Ryozen Iro (Zenin Clan – 2nd Year)

Match Two: Airi Satoru vs. Mei Kurogane (Tsukihara Clan – 2nd Year)

Kaien's eyes widened. "Mei is unstable. She experiments with soul siphoning techniques."

Rengoku stared at the board.

"If Airi's soul is fragile, this is her chance to reclaim it."

Kaien slammed a hand against the table. "You've grown colder, Rengoku."

He didn't deny it.

Yorei raised one hand. The room fell silent.

"The stage is ready. You may observe... but not interfere."

Final Shot: The Rings of Judgment

The ten dueling platforms hovered in synchronized orbit. Sigils locked into position like celestial gears. The wind whipped around the stadium as thousands of students flooded the seats.

Airi stepped onto her assigned platform, silent but resolved.

Akihiro adjusted his armor, wolf spirit pacing beside him.

Sakura tightened her fox spirit bindings.

Takashi stood in the hallway just beyond the ring… waiting, hands in his pockets.

His match would begin first.

His name glowed crimson against the sky.

To Be Continued in Chapter Fourteen