"Alright," Wang Hao muttered, exhaling a long breath as they stepped away from the final registration. "It's done. No backing out now."
Lin Yi walked beside him, his hands relaxed in his pockets. "Were you actually planning to?"
"I was considering all options," Wang Hao replied with a weak grin, though his eyes remained restless.
The silence stretched just long enough for Wang Hao to realize Lin Yi wasn't going to offer any more comfort, so he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "Actually, this is the perfect time for the real talk. Predictions. The forum is already on fire with them—top ten, finalists, and the eventual winner."
Lin Yi nodded faintly, his pace steady. "And you've got your own list?"
"Of course," Wang Hao said, his tone turning clinical. "If you're entering, you need to know the field. Who's got the fundamentals, who's just hype, and who's a genuine threat."
Lin Yi tilted his head slightly. "So, what's yours ?"
Wang Hao let out a breath, settling into a rhythm. "First, there's Zhang Wei. Heavy spear user. He has rock-solid fundamentals and doesn't rattle under pressure. He's the type who wins simply because he doesn't make mistakes. Then you've got Liu Cheng—fast and aggressive, but he's a momentum fighter. If you shut him down in the first thirty seconds, he collapses. He'll make the top sixteen, but he won't take the trophy."
He paused, glancing at the passing students before continuing. "Sun Qian is the dark horse. Defensive type. She isn't flashy, but she's an endurance monster. In a long match, she outlasts people twice her strength. Still, tournaments usually favor decisive finishers, and defense alone won't get her past the semifinals."
Lin Yi glanced at him, genuinely impressed by the detail. "You've been doing your homework."
"Preparation is the only thing keeping me from vibrating out of my skin," Wang Hao admitted. He continued listing names, breaking down styles and win conditions with surprising focus. Eventually, his voice slowed, and his expression shifted into something much more somber. "And then… there's Chen Feng."
The name seemed to carry its own weight. Wang Hao frowned, looking toward the distant combat spires. "You saw him at the gate. That wasn't just a show. That's the look of someone who has already mentally cleared a spot on his shelf for the trophy. Normally, I'd call that kind of ego a weakness, but with an S-rank Stormblade..." He exhaled sharply. "It might actually be justified. People react to his presence before the fight even starts. It affects their decision-making. If I'm being a realist… he's the one to beat."
Lin Yi nodded once, his expression unreadable. "That makes sense."
Wang Hao blinked, surprised by the lack of pushback. "It does? You agree?"
"You're basing your choice on what's visible," Lin Yi said. "There's nothing wrong with that."
Wang Hao studied his friend's face, then frowned. "You're too calm. It's actually starting to creep me out. Say something. Disagree with me."
Lin Yi considered this briefly. He looked at the orange glow of the setting sun reflecting off the academy windows before speaking in the same steady, even tone. "I plan to win the tournament."
Wang Hao stopped dead in his tracks. "…What?"
Lin Yi didn't repeat himself. He simply stopped and waited. Wang Hao searched his face for a smirk, a wink, or any sign of a joke, but found only a quiet, terrifying sincerity.
"You're serious," Wang Hao whispered.
"Yes."
Wang Hao let out a short, dry laugh. "You heard everything I just said—the S-ranks, the veterans, the literal gap in power—and your conclusion is just... 'I'm going to win'?"
Lin Yi nodded. "Yes."
For a moment, Wang Hao just stared. Then he shook his head, his frustration bubbling up. "That's not confidence, Lin Yi. That's pure arrogance. There's a difference between believing in yourself and ignoring reality. These people have been training since they could walk. You can't just decide the outcome."
"I didn't say it because it sounds good," Lin Yi replied.
"Then why say it?"
Lin Yi looked ahead toward the dormitory gates. "If I hesitate, does it improve my chances? Doubt is just friction. It slows you down."
Wang Hao scowled. "And overconfidence doesn't? It gets people killed out there."
"Only if it's false," Lin Yi said simply.
That made Wang Hao pause. He looked at Lin Yi more carefully, trying to find the person he had known for years, but the person standing there felt fundamentally different. "You really think you can beat Chen Feng. No conditions? No 'ifs'?"
"No."
Wang Hao dragged a hand down his face, groaning. "I don't even know what to say to that."
They walked in silence for a few minutes. The ease of their usual banter had been replaced by a heavy, focused energy. After a while, Wang Hao spoke again, his voice quieter. "You really are a strange one. Most people at least pretend to be humble to manage expectations."
"If I don't believe I can win, there's no reason to stand in the arena," Lin Yi said.
Wang Hao considered that for a long moment. "Fine. Say you're right. Say you actually win. What then?"
Lin Yi thought for a second. "Then I've checked a box. I move on to the next one."
Wang Hao looked away, "You know what… I still think Chen Feng is the favorite. And I still think you're incredibly arrogant. But if you actually pull this off... I'll be the first to admit I was wrong."
Lin Yi nodded once. "That's fair."
They reached the steps of the dormitory, the sky now a deep indigo. Lin Yi slowed down and pulled up his sleeve, checking his watch. The numbers glowed dimly in the twilight.
"It's getting late," Lin Yi said, turning to Wang Hao with a slight shift in his expression—the first hint of a smile. "It's time for a good dinner. My treat."
Wang Hao's eyes lit up instantly, his stomach letting out a timely growl. "Your treat? You'd better be taking me somewhere better than the cafeteria."
"Don't worry," Lin Yi said, thinking of his millions of copper coins. "We're going to the Golden Glaze Pavilion. Eat your fill—you'll need the energy for tomorrow."
Wang Hao's jaw dropped. "The Golden Glaze? Are you serious?"
Lin Yi started walking toward the academy gates. "I'm always serious. Let's go."