"Me?" Sumit asked in confusion, as he think of himself as a small figure, "I think you are mistaken old man, a warrior like fang be interested in someone like me".
"You...Now I remember you are that weird warrior who can use weapon even as an aura user" Sheep man said in surprise.
"Eh? Is it that big of deal? Well anyway, what are those pink fruits in your hand, can i have one? I am starving right now" Sumit plead the sheep man.
Due to the excitement of the tournament Sumit rushed to the arena without picking something to eat unlike yesterday and was about to go find something to eat but his feet stopped when he saw the exciting battle in front of him.
"You mean yabloka? Are you sure? If its your first time i have to tell you not many likes it" Sheep man warned Sumit.
"Its fine give me one" Sumit took the pink fruit shaped like an apple, and took a bite hoping to find a similar texture like an apple but "What the hell? it taste like dirt"
"Told you, not everyone likes the yabloka" Sheep man laughed at Sumit and said "go to the cafeteria, second hall from the left at the end of the east hallway"
"Understood, thank you for the yabloka" said sumit and run off to get some food.
"Weird kid, must be from monkey tribe"
"Dad? he run to the opposite direction"
"What?"
"yeah look"
"he...will be fine...maybe"
.......
The hunger was no longer a dull ache; it was a rhythmic thrumming in Sumit's ears, syncopated with the distant roar of the stadium. His match was the final event of the night, and the wait was clawing at his focus. He needed to eat.
He slipped away from the fighters' tunnels, wandering into a quiet, ivory-walled corridor he hadn't noticed before. He pushed open a heavy circular door, expecting a canteen.
Instead, he stepped into a room that smelled strongly of lavender and sterilized copper.
A woman sat behind a polished white desk, her head buried in a stack of anatomical charts. She had thick, rust-colored fur, large tufted ears that flicked at the sound of the door, and a long, bushy fox tail swaying lazily behind her.
She looked up, amber eyes narrowing in confusion. There was no shock, no awe—just the tired focus of a professional trying to make sense of an interruption.
"The medical ward is three blocks to the right," she said, her voice soft and clinical.
Sumit froze, his hand still resting on the door handle. "I'm not looking for the medical ward."
"Oh?" She stood, stepping out from behind the desk with a measured, appraising gaze. "Then why are you here? Were you referred by Priestess Tina? Or…" Her eyes softened with misplaced sympathy. "Did you come to talk about your loss?"
She began circling him slowly, like a merchant inspecting damaged goods.
"Losing a match can be mentally challenging," she continued, peering toward his lower back, "but at least you survived. Even after losing your tail, little monkey—"
"Tail?" Sumit cut in, deadpan. "I never had one. And I didn't lose any match. Also, I'm a human, not a monkey."
The doctor stopped mid-step, her head tilting sharply.
"A 'human'?" she repeated. "Is that a subspecies of the hairless baboons from the Western Wastes?" She shook her head lightly. "Irrelevant. You're here because you need help."
She placed a hand over her chest. "I am Dr. Vanya. This is the Psychological Stabilization Ward. We treat warriors who break under the pressure of the arena."
"I'm not broken," Sumit muttered. His stomach growled loudly. "I'm just looking for the canteen."
"The canteen is on the opposite side," Vanya said with a small sigh, returning to her desk. "Forgive me… I got a little excited. Almost no one comes here. Most warriors don't care about their mental health."
Something in her tone made Sumit hesitate. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Well… I think it's important," he said. "You're doing a good job."
Vanya paused, then gave a faint, genuine smile.
"Thank you," she said. "Would you like me to examine you before you go? Free of charge."
"You mean… like a test?"
"Yes. An AMT—Aura Mental Test. I'll assess your mental state using aura."
Sumit shrugged. "Sure. Go ahead."
She stepped closer, her movements calm and practiced, and placed a furred palm gently against his head. A thin stream of controlled aura flowed from her into him—standard procedure, nothing invasive.
The moment her energy made contact—
Vanya jerked back as if burned.
Her ears flattened against her skull. Her tail fluffed out to twice its size.
"By the Ancestors…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "What are you?"
"I told you. I'm a—"
"No." Her voice sharpened, cutting him off. Her eyes were wide now, stripped of all professionalism. "I don't care what your species is. I'm looking at your mind."
Her breath hitched.
"It's… wrong."
To Vanya's trained perception, Sumit's mind was nothing like a normal warrior's. It was bound—tightly—by countless invisible chains. Beneath them, something pulsed violently, vibrating at such a high frequency it felt like a scream waiting to break free.
It was controlled. Efficient. Perfectly functional.
And completely hollow.
"How are you feeling right now?" she asked, her voice dropping to a strained whisper.
"I feel normal, why?" Sumit replied.
"Normal?" Her voice cracked. "Your mind looks like it's about to shatter at any moment. Do you have any idea how unstable you are right now?"
Sumit frowned.
"What are you talking about? I feel fine. I think you're just stressed, doctor." He stepped back toward the door. "You should take a break. Maybe go outside more."
Before she could respond, he slipped out of the room.
As he walked away, he shook his head.
That doctor has issues… calling a completely normal guy broken.
Inside the room, Vanya stood frozen.
Then slowly, her shoulders slumped.
"He ran away… just like the others," she murmured, her tail drooping behind her. "Why does no one think mental health matters…?"
.........
The corridor widened, and the quiet of the ward slowly gave way to noise—voices overlapping, utensils clattering, bursts of laughter echoing through the hall.
Sumit followed the sound.
A moment later, he stepped into the canteen.
It was crowded. Long wooden tables stretched across the room, filled with fighters of all kinds. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat, spices, and something sweet.
His stomach growled.
"Finally…"
He walked straight to the counter.
Behind it stood a large bear-man, lazily wiping a plate with a cloth.
"What do you want?" he asked without looking up.
Sumit glanced at the board behind him, scanning quickly.
"Today's special. King's Fruit Plate."
The bear paused, then looked at him properly. "Five silver."
Sumit reached into his pocket and placed five silver coins on the counter—the exact amount he had won from his last match.
The coins clinked softly against the wood.
The bear took them and turned away. After a short wait, he returned with a wide wooden platter and set it down in front of Sumit.
Golden slices, deep violet berries, and crystal-like chunks were arranged neatly across the plate. A faint aura shimmered around the fruit.
Sumit picked it up and walked to the nearest empty table.
He sat down.
And immediately started eating.
The first bite made him pause for a fraction of a second.
Sweet.
Unnaturally sweet.
He kept eating.
Across the hall, the doors opened again.
A female leopard stepped inside.
Her golden eyes scanned the room once before settling on him.
She began walking toward his table.
Sumit didn't notice.
He reached for another slice, eating without pause.
The leopard stopped right in front of him.
She crossed her arms and waited.
He continued eating.
Piece after piece.
No glance. No reaction.
Her tail flicked once behind her.
"…Seriously?"
No response.
Sumit picked up one of the crystal-like pieces and ate it, his focus entirely on the plate in front of him.
The leopard leaned slightly forward, lowering herself into his line of sight.
Nothing.
Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.
"I know you can hear me," she said.
He kept eating.
The golden slices disappeared.
Then the berries.
Then the last of the crystal-like pieces.
The plate slowly emptied.
The leopard watched the entire thing in silence, her expression shifting from irritation… to confusion… to curiosity.
Finally—
Sumit picked up a cup of water from the table and drank it.
He let out a small breath.
Only then did his eyes lift.
He noticed her.
She stood right in front of him, arms crossed, golden eyes fixed on his face.
They stared at each other for a moment.
Sumit tilted his head slightly.
"…Did you want a bite?"