The announcement came the next morning.
Cale was in the dining hall with Val and Ethan when the large screens flickered, displaying a notice—or rather, a new message in bold gold letters.
The Tournament Resumes in Three Days.
Tournament Brackets will be released at noon.
All students are to report to the main hall as soon as possible.
The room erupted. The long-awaited tournament was finally within reach. Students pounded tables and shouted bets; some scrambled to check their gauntlets. Valerie stabbed a piece of bread with her fork, her eyes fixed on the screen.
"It's about time," she said.
Ethan nodded slowly. "Since they factored the mission into the seeding, we'll have a rank now. We can actually participate."
Cale said nothing. He wasn't thinking about the bracket, or who they'd face, or about how much he'd have to show. He thought of Revenant instead. It was his secret weapon, but using it meant revealing more than he was ready for.
His gauntlet buzzed.
The yard was already crowded when they arrived. Students were paired off, sparring and testing combinations. Cale found the crew near the back: Riker leaning against the wall and Rel standing beside him, his screen dark.
Even though it felt naive, Cale decided that staying with their ragtag team was the best option. They knew each other now and could coordinate a fight better than a newly formed team.
Val dropped onto a bench, stretching her arm. "So, in three days, we get fucked. We're probably going to need to train."
The silence that followed was almost awkward until Ethan spoke up. "We've fought as a group, but not against people. This is going to be different."
Riker nodded. "My illusions work better when the enemy doesn't know they're there. If we can coordinate, I can try to blind them with falsities and confuse them. Valerie gets to go wild, Ethan holds the line as usual, and Rel takes out the biggest threat—he is likely the ace up our sleeve."
He looked at Cale. "And you?"
Cale felt Revenant's creepy presence in his shadow. "I fight. I slow them down and try to find openings."
While he spoke, he noticed that not once did Riker call Valerie Val; he always called her Valerie. It was a small detail, but Cale guessed Riker had always been different.
The others looked at Cale as if his role were trivial.
"That's not trivial," Val said, saving the moment. "He's really good at finding openings."
They spent the morning running drills, trying out coordinated attacks, defensive formations, and fallback plans. Cale trained using his ice, his sword, and his dagger when necessary. It seemed like enough—at least for now.
But when the session ended and the others headed for lunch, he stayed behind.
Slowly, the yard emptied. Cale walked to the far corner where a cluster of old training dummies stood forgotten. He summoned Revenant.
The creature materialized from his shadow, its wings folded against its back. Its three golden eyes shone as bright as stars.
"You're hiding me," Revenant said.
"I'm not ready to show you yet. Got a problem with that?"
"Do you fear what they will think?"
Cale drew Soul Drinker. The blade glowed at its edges, pulsing with light. "I don't fear them, but I am unsure of what they'll ask. But that shouldn't concern you; you're to do as I say, aren't you?"
Revenant tilted its head. "I reckon so. Are you not their leader? Shouldn't they trust you?"
Cale laughed until his belly ached. "They, trust a Rank E who barely passed the entrance exam? That's ridiculous, even for a joke."
"They should trust the one who threw a blade into the eye of a Cyclops. The one who held his ground against an Ogre. The one who controls a powerful being like me." Revenant's voice was calm and measured. "Rank is not trust."
Cale was speechless. He didn't answer, surprised that a being he was supposed to be above was seemingly more intelligent than he had imagined. He raised his blade, and Revenant moved.
They sparred in silence for a while. Revenant was fast—faster than any training dummy, faster than Vorian. Its claws left trails of dark shadow and its wings beat the air, forcing Cale to dodge, block, and, more importantly, think. He used his ice, his dagger, and the new powers he barely understood.
He tried one of his new skills: Necrotic Touch. He brushed Revenant's arm, and the creature shuddered, its golden eyes flickering. It stepped back, studying him.
"That power is dangerous," Revenant said. "It drains life force. If you use it on a person, they will feel it."
"I know."
"You will need to control that. Try precision."
They continued. Cale practiced the Reaper's Mark, placing it on a dummy and watching as his strikes cut deeper. He tested his evolved Death Sense, feeling the life force of birds in the trees and mice in the grass. He let Revenant Shadowstep across the yard to appear behind him, testing his reflexes.
He began to experiment with the Shadowstep ability; he observed that Revenant could move into his shadow or any other shadow nearby. It could hop from one shadow to another, posing endless possibilities for ambush attacks.
By the time the sun began to set, Cale was exhausted. His Mauri was nearly empty, but he felt sharper. The powers were becoming part of him, not just tools.
He dismissed Revenant and sat on the bench, breathing hard.
"You're improving," Iris said.
"I have to. It's an important part of life."
"Because of the tournament?"
He thought about Vorian's fire, Lysander's cold smile, and the whispers that followed him through the halls. He thought about Val learning the whip, Ethan holding the line, and Riker and Rel trusting him to lead. He wanted to be able to measure up to them, even if he still felt weak.
"Because they're counting on me," he said.
The bracket was posted at noon, as promised. Cale found it on his gauntlet, the matchups laid out in neat lines.
First Round:
Team Alpha: Vorian, Lysander, Kyra, Theron, Mira vs. Team Gamma
Team Beta: Cale, Val, Ethan, Riker, Rel vs. Team Kade (Aethel Faction)
He scanned the rest. If they somehow won, they'd eventually face the winner of the first seed—Vorian's team. His own team was seeded seventh.
Val appeared beside him, reading over his shoulder. "Who's Kade? Never heard of them."
"They're from the Aethel faction," Ethan said.
"They're solid, but not top-tier. I think we can beat them."
Riker nodded slowly. "Yeah, if we work together."
Rel's screen flickered: We will.
Cale looked at his team. They were mismatched, thrown together by circumstance. But they had survived a B-rank nest. They could do this.
"Three days," Cale said. "We'll train every day. We will learn each other's rhythms. We will fight as one."
Val grinned. "Finally. A real fight."
That night, Cale trained alone again. Revenant appeared at his call, ready.
"Again," Cale said.
They moved through the dark yard, shadow and blade, practicing until his arms burned and his Mauri was gone. Revenant pushed him harder than anyone else could, forcing him to use every power he had. The creature seemed to have an undying well of Mauri; he never tired and never needed to go back to his core. He healed fast in real-time—while it wasn't literal regeneration, it was faster than Cale's own Regenesis.
When Cale finally collapsed on the bench, Revenant stood over him, its wings half-spread.
"You will win," it said.
"You don't know that."
"I do not. But I know what you carry. What you could become." Its golden eyes held his. "They are not ready for you."
Cale lay back, staring at the stars. The tournament was coming. Vorian, Lysander, and everyone who had ever looked down on him would see what he could do. Maybe not all of it yet—but enough.
He summoned Soul Drinker, watching the light pulse along its edge. It was indestructible. Absorbing. A weapon that could grow with him.
He dismissed it and stood. Revenant melted into his shadow, waiting.
In three days, he would be ready.