The medical tent smelled of antiseptic and blood.
My blood.
I lay on a cot, staring at the white canvas ceiling, listening to the distant roar of the stadium. The free-for-all was still happening. Somewhere out there, Caelus was hunting. Somewhere out there, the man who had knocked me unconscious was still fighting.
I couldn't move.
My hands were wrapped in bandages—thick, white, immobile. The cuts had been deep. The medics had done what they could, but the healing would take time. Days. Maybe weeks.
My chest was bandaged. My arms. My side.
I had never been this broken.
Not in this body.
The tent flap opened.
Ami walked in. Her face was pale, her eyes red. She had been crying.
"You're awake," she said.
"I'm awake."
She sat beside me. Took my bandaged hand in hers. "You scared us."
"I scared myself."
She almost smiled. Almost. "Fifth place. That's what they're saying. The free-for-all isn't over yet, but you're out. The best you can do is fifth."
I nodded.
"That's incredible," she said. "A low exalted. Fifth in the region. Against thirty-nine exalted and an ascendant. You should be proud."
I looked at my bandaged hands.
"I should have been faster."
"You should have been dead." Her voice was sharp. "Caelus could have killed you. He didn't. That's not failure. That's survival."
I said nothing.
She squeezed my hand. "The ceremony is in an hour. They want you there. To accept your placement."
"Fifth place."
"Fifth place." She met my eyes. "Against an ascendant."
I closed my eyes.
The dream was still there. The cracked earth. The dying cities. The prayers.
Something answered.
The stadium was quieter than it had been all week.
The free-for-all had ended. Caelus had won—unsurprising. The ascendant had torn through the remaining fighters like they were nothing. No one had come close to touching him.
The crowd was filing out, their voices a low murmur, their attention already drifting to whatever came next.
But the stage was still lit.
The awards ceremony.
I stood in the tunnel, my bandaged hands hidden beneath a jacket, my armor replaced with something clean. Ami stood beside me. Corrin and Kael were behind us.
"Fifth place," Corrin said. "That's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I'm not ashamed."
"Then why do you look like you lost?"
I looked at him. "Because I did lose."
He opened his mouth to argue. Ami put a hand on his arm. "Leave it."
The ceremony was brief.
One by one, the top finishers were called to the stage. Fourth place. Third. Second.
Caelus stood at the center, his crimson armor pristine, his blade sheathed, his pale eyes scanning the crowd. He didn't look at me. Didn't need to.
"Fifth place," the announcer called, "Aurelion Kade of Valley's Watch."
The crowd applauded. Not the roaring of before—something quieter. Respectful.
I walked onto the stage.
The lights were bright. The cameras were watching. The world was watching.
I accepted the token—a small crystal, etched with the tournament's seal—and stood at the edge of the stage, waiting for the ceremony to end.
Caelus glanced at me.
"Your hands," he said quietly.
I looked at my bandaged fingers. "They'll heal."
He nodded. "Next time, don't catch blades with your hands."
"I'll try not to."
He almost smiled. Almost.
The ceremony ended.
The crowd dispersed. The lights dimmed. The tournament was over.
We walked back through the tunnels together—Ami, Corrin, Kael, and me. The crystal was heavy in my pocket. The bandages were heavy on my hands.
The dream was heavy in my mind.
Back at the hotel, the others celebrated.
Not loudly—there wasn't much energy left for celebration. But there was relief. We had made it. We had placed. We had proven ourselves.
I sat apart, staring at the wall.
Resources depleted. Ecosystems collapsed. Society falling apart.
They prayed. And something answered.
"What are you thinking about?"
Ami sat beside me.
"The dream," I said. "When I was unconscious. I saw something."
"What?"
I hesitated. "Humanity. Before the portals. Before the demons. Before everything."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
I tried to find the words. "The world was dying. Not from demons—from us. Resources gone. The environment collapsing. Society breaking down."
She was quiet for a moment. "That's... not what the history books say."
"The history books are written by the survivors." I looked at her. "The survivors don't always tell the truth."
She didn't argue.
She sat with me, her shoulder against mine, and let me think.
The dream had shown me something. Something important. Something that explained... what?
The portals? The demons? The mana?
They prayed. And something answered.
Something had heard them. Something had opened the rifts. Something had brought the demons—or let them come.
But why?
And who—or what—had answered?
"I need to find out," I said.
"Find out what?"
"Human history. The real history. Before the portals."
Ami frowned. "That's... a lot of research. And most of it is probably lost. The portals destroyed everything."
"I know."
"Then how?"
I thought about it. The valley. The settlement. The people who had come from all over, bringing fragments of the old world with them.
"There are archives. Libraries. Museums. Some of them survived."
"Barely."
"Barely is enough."
She studied me. Those sharp eyes that had followed me from the ruins of Lancet to this city of hunters and dreams.
"You really think this is important?"
I thought about the dream. The cracked earth. The dying cities. The prayers.
"Yes," I said. "I do."
The celebration ended.
The others went to sleep. I stayed awake, sitting by the window, watching the city lights fade as dawn approached.
The crystal was in my hand. Fifth place. Low exalted. Against an ascendant.
It wasn't victory.
But it wasn't defeat either.
It was something in between.
Something I could build on.
I thought about Caelus. About the gap between us. About the ocean I had almost drowned in.
I would cross it.
Not tomorrow. Not next week. But someday.
And when I did, I would be ready.
But first—
First, I needed to understand.
The dream. The history. The prayers.
Something answered.
What?
And why?
And what did it have to do with me?
I looked at my bandaged hands.
The wounds would heal. The bandages would come off. The scars would remain.
Reminders.
Of what I had lost. Of what I had survived. Of what I still had to learn.
I closed my eyes.
The city slept.
The dream waited.