[11th June]
In the stadium's medic room, Rey lay asleep on a narrow bed.
His eyelids twitched.
Slowly, consciousness returned.
He frowned faintly, then opened his eyes, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling for a few seconds before memory rushed back in.
"…Right. The match."
He rubbed his temple, a dull haze lingering in his head. The aftereffects of the medication hadn't worn off completely.
The medics had injected him more than once for pain relief. He remembered that clearly.
"No wonder I still feel like this…" he muttered.
He reached for his phone and checked the time.
6:02 PM.
His eyes widened instantly as he pushed himself upright.
"…I slept that long?"
The sudden movement made him hiss, and his raised voice drew attention. One of the medics nearby hurried over, alarmed, only to relax when Rey explained he had just woken up.
After a brief check, Rey spoke again.
"Can I leave now? I need to go home."
The medic hesitated, glancing over Rey's chart.
"Your injuries aren't critical," he said carefully. "But avoid excessive movement for the next few hours. And honestly… I'd recommend withdrawing from the tournament. Your next match is tomorrow. In this condition, your chances will drop sharply."
Rey listened without reacting.
"I'll decide that tomorrow," he replied. "I need to leave now."
He swung his legs over the bed, half-expecting pain or weakness.
But it didn't come.
His body moved… normally.
No sharp pain. No instability.
That made him pause.
He stood still for a moment, confused.
He flexed his fingers once.
The response was immediate. Too immediate.
'My abilities are sealed… so why does my body feel this fine?
Is something else working, or are the aftereffects still lingering?'
He didn't dwell on it.
There were more urgent things to deal with.
When he checked his phone again, his notifications exploded.
Missed calls. Dozens of them.
Most from one name.
Mom.
He exhaled slowly.
'That call won't be short.'
After final checks, the medics returned his belongings.
His ID badge.
His bow.
Or rather… what was left of it.
The bow's frame was cracked and warped. Completely unusable.
The quiver was destroyed.
His overcoat was torn beyond repair, shredded by the final exchange with Aric.
Rey sighed quietly.
"I'll need a replacement… before the next fight."
He left the medic room without drawing attention. Thankfully, his identity still hadn't spread widely. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made it five steps without being surrounded.
Outside the stadium, a taxi had just dropped off passengers nearby.
He got in immediately.
The ride home was silent.
When he arrived, his house looked… calmer than usual. Almost warm.
After paying the fare, he entered through the main gate.
The maid and butler noticed him instantly.
Both froze.
Then rushed over.
"Young master—!"
They guided him carefully to the sofa, their movements overly cautious. They had watched the match. They had seen how badly injured he was at the end.
Defeating Aric Falk wasn't just a victory.
It was a shock.
The butler even asked if a private doctor should be summoned.
Rey refused without hesitation.
"No doctors."
He had escaped one medic ward already. He wasn't entering another.
After confirming he truly felt fine, they backed off. The butler went to prepare food. The maid returned to her duties.
The room fell quiet.
Rey leaned back and unlocked his phone.
First call.
His mother.
The line connected almost instantly.
For a brief moment, there was silence.
Then everything came pouring out.
Questions. Fear. Scolding. Relief. Anger.
He heard her voice crack more than once.
She told him how terrified she was watching the match. How she almost fainted when the final attack landed.
How she wanted him to come back immediately and forget about the university altogether.
"I don't care about status or glory," she said. "I just want you safe."
Rey denied her request.
Firmly.
That turned into an argument. Back and forth. Neither side yielding.
Eventually, Emmy took the phone.
She was ecstatic.
She hadn't been allowed to watch the match, something Rey silently agreed was for the best. Seeing him like that would've scared her.
After more reminders to rest and take care of himself, the call finally ended.
Rey lowered the phone.
A heaviness settled in his chest.
His mother didn't want power.
Didn't want revenge.
Didn't want their fallen name restored.
She just wanted her children to live peacefully.
And he was walking the opposite path.
Lying to her… even to protect her… weighed heavier than facing a pseudo-stage beast.
And he knew he would do it again tomorrow.
After a moment, he called his uncle.
Hosric answered after a few rings.
The conversation was brief and calm. He asked about Rey's condition, where he was, scolded him lightly for worrying everyone, then laughed.
"I'll give you something tomorrow morning," Hosric said. "You earned it."
Before Rey could ask what it was, the call ended.
Rey chuckled faintly.
Hosric sounded happier than anyone today.
What Rey didn't know was that Hosric had more reasons to smile than he let on. But that was something Rey would never hear about.
He called Fenlor next.
No answer.
As expected.
He moved to the next number on his list. An unfamiliar one.
Before he could press call—
Ring! Ring!
Rey's phone rang just before he could call the number.
Fenlor was on the line, rambling about his match again. It was like before— but there was a catch, as if he were trying to hide something.
Rey didn't even let him speak further.
"Fenlor," he said flatly, "what did you do?"
Fenlor froze.
Rey crossed his arms.
"I can tell. You did something stupid."
Fenlor opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed, his last line of defence crumbling.
"…Okay," he admitted. "But hear me out first."
And only then did he begin to explain.
Rey listened in silence as Fenlor finished explaining.
By the end of it, his expression had gone flat.
"…You really messed up," Rey said calmly.
Fenlor swallowed. "I know."
What happened was simple, yet troublesome.
While Rey was unconscious in the medic room, Fenlor had received a message from Aric. His number had already been saved after the previous meetings due to some earlier coordination.
Aric, using his usual smooth tongue, slowly steered the conversation. No threats. No force. Just casual talk, mixed with curiosity.
And before Fenlor fully realised it, Rey's number had already been handed over.
Fenlor had at least insisted on one condition.
That Aric wouldn't tell Rey who gave it to him.
But that defence collapsed the moment Rey started asking questions. Fenlor had never been good at lying to him.
"So… yeah," Fenlor finished awkwardly. "That's what happened."
Rey exhaled slowly.
"This will cause trouble," he said. Not angrily. Just stating a fact.
He looked down at his phone.
As expected, Aric's number was already there.
Rey cleared every other missed call notification without hesitation. He wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone new right now.
Even if Aric called later, he could always dismiss it as a wrong number.
But there were messages.
After a brief pause, Rey decided to read them.
The first few were simple.
An introduction.
A confirmation of identity.
A request to save the number.
Nothing unusual.
Then came the real message.
Aric explained that he would be leaving the capital tonight.
He was heading to the Thunder Peak Kingdom, under the domain of the Duke of Stormrend.
'So the rumours were true.'
He really was being considered as a disciple candidate.
Aric apologised that he wouldn't be able to watch Rey's remaining matches.
He added that if things went well, they might meet again in a few months. At most, within a year.
The final line read:
"Until then… take care."
A single emoji followed.
Rey stared at the screen for a few seconds longer than necessary.
Rey's thumb hovered over the screen.
For a moment, he almost replied.
He found it… strange.
Aric wasn't hostile.
Wasn't arrogant beneath the surface either.
But Rey wasn't looking for connections.
Not now.
Still, after a moment, he saved the number.
Not because he planned to answer.
Just… in case.
He locked the phone and leaned back into the sofa, letting his body sink into it.
The day had finally caught up to him.
Time passed without him realising it.
By the time he looked up again, the butler had already prepared dinner.
Rey ate faster than he expected.
Then asked for more.
Then more again.
The maid and butler exchanged looks, then silently went back to work. They had seen this before.
A warrior's appetite wasn't normal.
By the fourth serving, Rey finally stopped.
Only then did he feel full.
Despite their exhaustion, both servants smiled. Seeing him eat properly was enough reassurance for them.
They escorted him back toward his room.
Rey's gaze briefly drifted toward the underground training area.
But one look from the maid shut that idea down instantly.
"…Fine," Rey muttered.
Inside his room, he sat on the bed and examined his bow.
Or what remained of it.
The string was worn thin, close to snapping.
The body was warped far beyond recovery.
It had reached its limit.
"…No saving this," he said quietly.
He activated his Darkness sub-ability.
Shadow gathered.
A dark, jagged maw formed beneath the bow and swallowed it whole.
Gone in seconds.
No notification followed.
No gain.
As expected.
It was already too damaged. Too low-grade.
He checked his remaining arrows.
Only basic wooden ones were left.
Everything else had been destroyed or abandoned back at the stadium.
"I'll buy replacements tomorrow," he decided. "Along with a new quiver."
With nothing else to do, Rey lay back on the bed.
Fatigue pulled him down quickly.
Rey turned onto his side.
His phone lay facedown beside the bed.
He didn't flip it over again.
Sleep came quickly, but the words he hadn't said stayed awake far longer.