The Strategy Room

The door slammed shut.

Setsuna didn't hesitate — his fist smashed into the wall.

CRACK.

Plaster chipped, a jagged dent left behind.

"Damn it. We got only fifteen minutes"

Kazuo flinched slightly by the table. "So it's that bad, huh?"

Setsuna's back was tense. His breath, sharp. "Bad? It's worse than bad. This whole thing is beyond rigged."

Kazuo's brows lowered. "Why this Battle Royale at alI? I thought the tournament was tomorrow."

Setsuna turned, face unreadable. "You, of all people, should know better."

Kazuo let out a dry breath. "Right. This isn't a game. It's Cedric's stage. And I'm the opening act."

Kazuo's jaw tightened. "So I'm boxed in."

"Exactly. Play along and you become Cedric's pawn — permitted because of your green eye. But resist? You're a symbol that needs to be erased."

Kazuo muttered, "Tch…"

"This shouldn't surprise me," he added.

Kazuo looked up. "Then maybe I throw the match. Let someone knock me out. No magic, no weapons — that ends it, right?"

Setsuna's eyes went cold. "Don't be stupid."

Kazuo blinked. "It's clean."

"No. It's suicide."

Setsuna stepped in, voice calm but heavy.

"Lose here — especially in the preliminary — and they'll brand you a fake. Just a peasant trying to wear noble skin. They'll say you never belonged. That your eye color was a fluke — nothing more."

Kazuo's eyes narrowed.

"Remember in the palace? Cedric couldn't get rid of you in the palace. Not directly. It would've risked a revolt — from the nobles who recognize your green eye, or from the Lower Crescent who see you as one of their own."

Setsuna's jaw tightened.

"But here? In this ring? He can erase you without consequence. A clean elimination. One fall, one crowd cheer, and you're done. No uprisings. No backlash. Just a quiet message: black-eyed."

He turned his back for a moment, then added:

"But if you go far — if you lose later, maybe even to Aoi — then you become something else."

Kazuo looked up. "What then?"

Setsuna didn't look back. "You become the Crown's success story. The 'good' one. A peasant who knew his place. A black-eyed noble's pet. And once that happens, the Lower Crescent?"

He turned, gaze sharp now. "They would never dream to revolt, because they'll think the system works. That rising is possible — if they behave. And blood never has to be spilled." 

A beat of silence.

Kazuo clenched his fists. "Since I came here… I've played like Cedrics game. No rebellion. No tricks. But this…"

His voice trembled. "It's frustraiting."

Setsuna nodded once. "I know. But we don't have time for frustration. Focus."

He moved toward Kazuo and spoke more calmly now. "You're the clear target. You know that. The others might not hate you, but they'll fear what you represent. And remember — this is the preliminary round. The actual bracket is decided after this. Everyone wants to knock someone like you out early."

Kazuo looked up. "But doesn't that also put a target on Aoi's back? I mean… he's the prodigy."

Setsuna gave a sharp breath, almost a laugh — but it lacked humor."Yeah. It does. But that's the game, isn't it?"

He stepped closer, eyes narrowing.

"Aoi's a double-edged sword. High risk, high reward. Taking him out now — when neither of you can use magic — eliminates the one person designed to counter your entire element later in the bracket."

Kazuo stayed quiet, listening.

Setsuna's tone dropped lower. "This isn't just a free-for-all. It's a test. A trap. A stage. Cedric's watching every move — waiting to see what you do, how you think, who you trust… and maybe, just maybe, if you're clever enough to take out the one person he placed as your executioner."

He glanced toward the window, then back.

"So… aside from Aoi — anyone else stand out to you?"

Kazuo glanced sideways, jaw twitching slightly.

"Rulthan," he muttered. "We already met. Let's just say I'm definitely on his hit list."

Setsuna arched a brow. "Figures."

Kazuo continued, slower now. "And… I don't know why, but that barefoot girl with the yellow eyes…"

Setsuna tilted his head. "You mean Kaya?"

Kazuo nodded once. "Yeah. Her. She looked at me like she wanted to skin me alive."

His voice dropped a little. "Not like the others who just looked curious or cautious. That was… anger. Hatred. Personal, almost."

Setsuna rubbed the back of his neck. "Kaya. I don't know much about her but pride runs deep in her family. Guess she didn't like the sight of a black-eyed 'mistake' in her tournament."

Kazuo looked away for a second. "Well, her and Rulthan… they both looked physically strong. I meancompared to the rest."

Setsuna gave a dry grunt. "Then better stay away from them."

He paused, then pushed off the wall, pacing slowly.

"But you know what really worries me?"

Kazuo raised an eyebrow.

Setsuna turned back, eyes sharp.

"The rules."

Kazuo blinked.

"It's a ring-out," Setsuna said, voice low. "But it never actually specified how the ring-out ends. Did you catch that?"

Kazuo narrowed his eyes. "You mean…?"

Setsuna nodded grimly. "It never said the one knocked out has to be alive."

A beat passed between them — heavy, cold.

"You get what I'm saying?" Setsuna continued. "No weapons, no magic — but if someone slips, gets slammed the wrong way, falls wrong…"

Kazuo swallowed once.

Setsuna's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Beware. Because accidents in this kind of match? They're the easiest kind to arrange."

Setsuna grabbed a rice cracker from his pouch, bit into it aggressively, then pointed at Kazuo.

"Look. I never trained you in brawling. I trained you in swordplay. Magic. Control."

He narrowed his eyes. "But you've got a fighter's physique — and a swordsman's instincts. That's what we use."

Kazuo raised a brow. "Meaning?"

"Fight like your arm is your blade. Every swing, every step — mimic swordplay. Turn your body into your weapon."

Kazuo nodded slowly, thinking it over.

"I'm being honest with you," Setsuna added, quieter now. "I don't know how this'll go. It's a gamble."

He met Kazuo's eyes. "But I'm counting on your wit. That mind of yours — overthinking and all — might be the one thing that keeps you alive out there."

Kazuo didn't respond immediately. He reached up, fingers brushing the medallion around his neck.

"…Then I have to win."

He took off his sword, laying it gently beside the table like saying goodbye to a friend.

"I have to. If I ever want to see Rei or Gramps again… losing isn't an option."

Kazuo stood still for a moment, eyes lingering on the blade.

"…I never wanted to be here," he muttered. "All I ever wanted was a simple life. Something quiet. Peaceful. Just… something mine."

He looked up — not angry, not bitter. Just tired.

"But I'm not pretending anymore. I know I don't have a choice."

A long breath passed.

"And… even though you're the one who dragged me to the palace…"He gave a small laugh, almost awkward.

"…Thanks. For saving my neck. I never really said that, did I?"

Setsuna blinked — then gave a dry, crooked grin.

"Nope. First time. Mark the calendar."

He stepped forward, placing a hand briefly on Kazuo's shoulder.

"But you don't need to thank me."A rare softness touched his voice.

"I trust you, Kazuo. Fully."

Kazuo's eyes flicked to him — surprised, maybe, or just quietly grateful.

Setsuna stepped back, exhaling slowly, the old steel creeping back into his voice.

"Just remember — alliances will form. Betrayal will come fast. The moment you let your guard down, someone will try to shove you off the edge."

He paused.

"Trust no one. Keep moving. Smile if you must — but keep your fists ready."

Setsuna looked at him.

Then, softly — almost like a ritual:

"Fifteen minutes are up."

Kazuo walked toward the door, each step firmer.

He looked down at his hands… then slowly tightened the straps of his fingerless gloves, one at a time.

Each motion deliberate. Quiet.

Kazuo gave a slight nod. His voice was quiet, but steady.

"I won't let your effort go to waste."

Then stepped through.

And when he did, it wasn't just an exit — it was an entry.

Into something far more dangerous.

The coliseum's roar met him like a tidal wave — banners shaking, voices clashing, the distant thrum of expectation heavy in the air.

This was it.

Only the ring.

And whatever came with it.

—

Back in the silent room, Setsuna stood alone, eyes lingering on the space Kazuo had just left behind.

Then he exhaled through his nose.

"…I wonder."

A pause.

Then, softly:

"If this is the right path."

And with that, he turned — heading toward the Captains' Gallery, the place where giants watched the board and moved their pieces.

Because now?

Now the real game was about to begin.