A quiet wind swept across the Grand Competition Grounds, lifting faint curls of dust from the edges of the stage. The crowd had grown restless after three explosive battles, leaning over the railing, murmuring in electric anticipation. Every person sensed the shift—three contenders had already been eliminated, and the ranking was beginning to twist in ways no one had expected.
The elder rose into the air once more. His dark sleeves drifted like shadows caught in a slow tide.
When he spoke, the noise vanished instantly.
"Number Nine… and Number Seven."
The arena trembled—not from qi, but from thousands inhaling at the same moment.
Two names followed.
"Harvey Walker."
A thunder of cheers erupted instantly.
And then
"Rachel Clark."
Another wave of sound rolled across the stands, different in tone—hopeful, desperate, mixed with fear of what might come next.
