The sun had barely risen when the Seeker transport ship arrived at the Ember Isles' southern cove. Its hull was painted with the Voyager Association crest, and the sails bore the insignia of Janoah.
Word of the Seekers' victory had spread faster than wildfire. Villagers lined the coast, offering gifts, food, and tearful goodbyes. For many, this was the first time in decades they'd stood free from fear.
Kai stood near the ship's ramp, eyes scanning the quiet shoreline. The volcanic breeze tugged at his cloak.
"You sure you're okay?" Aria asked, stepping beside him.
Kai nodded. "Just… thinking."
"Still upset?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, Lila appeared from behind, grinning wide. "Well, I'm not! We survived a volcano, beat some abyssal freaks, and I only cried once!"
Rin sighed. "That was not crying. That was screaming in terror."
William strolled past them all, sipping from a metal flask. "You kids better rest while you can. Next stop's not so welcoming."
Kai looked up. "Where exactly are we going?"
William pulled a weathered map from his pocket.
He pointed to a stretch of sea at the edge of known territory.
"No one's mapped this region. It borders the Empire of Chun—an ancient kingdom known for its brutal Seeker trials and isolated philosophy. But just beyond it…"
He tapped a faint X near a blank landmass. "The new continent. Still unnamed. Rumors say the Voyager Association wants to reach it before anyone else."
Aria crossed her arms. "Let me guess—our job is to lead the charge?"
William smirked. "That… and survive what's waiting on the way."
As the ship pulled from the harbor, the Ember Isles shrank in the distance.
Kai remained on deck, watching until the last trace of smoke from the volcano faded into the clouds.
Behind him, Lila, Aria, and Rin laughed about something.
For a moment, he allowed himself to smile.
But deep down, the Bodhi Lotus inside him pulsed.
Something was calling.
Something ancient.
And it was waiting on the other side of the sea.
The Seeker vessel cut through the morning fog like a silver blade.
By midday, towering cliffs emerged on the horizon—carved with stone dragons, cloud motifs, and the crescent emblem of the Empire of Chun. Ancient spires rose in the distance, their curved roofs glinting with gold and jade under the rising sun.
Kai stood at the bow, awestruck.
"So this is Chun…" he murmured.
Rin joined him, his expression unreadable.
"I haven't been here since I was a child," Rin said. "It hasn't changed. Still looks like it's hiding a thousand secrets."
Lila leaned against the railing beside them. "It's beautiful. But why does it feel… tense?"
William appeared behind them, arms crossed.
"Because this empire was built on discipline, bloodlines, and silence. The people of Chun follow the old ways. Here, Mutis are sacred—and dangerous."
As they docked in Jinyun Port, the largest eastern city, a small delegation awaited their arrival. Guards in obsidian and crimson armor flanked a tall, stern man draped in ceremonial robes.
"State your purpose," he said flatly.
William stepped forward, presenting their Voyager sigils. "We come on official Association business. Escorting Iron and Bronze Seekers on expedition."
The man's eyes flickered toward Kai.
"You bear the Lotus Flame."
Kai blinked. "What?"
Before he could question further, the official turned. "You will be watched."
Inside Chun's capital, Zhushen, the team was escorted through bustling lantern-lit streets, past dragon dances and shrines humming with spiritual energy. They arrived at a circular palace where Seeker envoys and noble clans observed from terraces above.
William briefed them quietly.
"We're here for two reasons: restocking supplies… and retrieving a key map fragment. It's said to lead through the cloud-sea ravines near Chun's northern mountains. Those mountains lie just south of the new continent's rumored shoreline."
"And what's the catch?" Aria asked.
William sighed. "To get it, we'll have to participate in Chun's traditional Seeker trials. A public spectacle. Political. Dangerous."
Rin tensed. "I know the arena. It's not like the Trial by Combat. This is blood sport, dressed as culture."
Lila gulped. "So… another tournament arc?"
William smirked. "No. A war masquerading as a dance."
Kai's gaze remained fixed on the towering statues of past Seekers lining the palace walls.
Among them, one bore the same Lotus sigil carved into his pendant.
His fingers closed around it.
"Looks like the Bodhi path runs deeper than I thought."
But this time, all eyes turned to Rin.
His steps slowed as they crossed into the capital. Every corner, every shrine, every soldier's glance felt like a weight on his back.
Black-clad elders whispered.
A passing merchant froze, staring at Rin with wide, fearful eyes.
"Is that… one of them?"
Rin's expression darkened. His Viatra flickered briefly in response to buried emotion.
Kai noticed. "They recognize you?"
Rin's voice was low. "They recognize my blood."
The team settled into a borrowed villa nestled within the Inner Petal District of Zhushen—a secluded haven where stone bridges arched over koi ponds and cherry blossoms swirled through the wind. But peace here was a surface mask.
The empire remembered Rin Kairo.
Wherever he walked, whispers followed. Merchants lowered their voices. Guards stiffened. Elders looked away.
Kai noticed the silence Rin carried.
Even in the quiet of their courtyard, Rin would sit alone—gazing into the pond, unmoving. A statue of shame and memory.
That night, as lanterns painted gold trails through misty air, Aria and Lila dozed near the fire.
Kai stepped outside, finding Rin seated beneath a plum tree.
"You're not sleeping," Kai said.
Rin didn't turn. "Neither are you."
A pause.
Kai sat beside him.
"You gonna tell me what this place did to you?"
Rin stared ahead.
"Not this place," he said. "My clan."
Flashback: Twelve Years Ago
The Black Clan—Kairo-no-Kuro—were once Chun's elite. Their Viatra Eyes allowed them to detect deception, distort time perception, and predict movements with precision so feared, the Empire once outlawed duels against them.
But fear turned to envy. Power bred suspicion.
Then one night—flames consumed the Kairo compound.
Rin was just six. Hidden beneath the temple ruins by his older brother Raizo, he watched faceless shadows in imperial armor cut down his kin. The Viatra Eyes of every elder extinguished, one by one.
Only he escaped.
"They called us heretics," Rin whispered. "Said our eyes made us monsters."
He clenched his fists. "I used to believe them."
Kai looked up at the stars. "But you still trained. Still joined the Seekers."
"I joined to survive," Rin said. "Then to grow stronger. Now? I'm here to bury the past."
His eyes flickered.
"But if Chun still sees me as a curse… I'll show them what a curse becomes when it fights back."
The next morning, the Seeker Trials of Chun were announced.
A weeklong gauntlet. Part tradition, part spectacle.
But for Rin—it would be war.
William handed each of them a scroll, outlining their scheduled challenges.
Kai raised an eyebrow. "They paired us with rival Seekers again?"
William nodded. "The trials here aren't just about strength. They're political chess games. Old families sponsor their chosen Seekers. And Rin…"
He looked at him.
"Your name's already being whispered by every clan head."
Lila tilted her head. "So Rin's the star this time?"
Rin cracked a rare smirk. "Let them look."
His Viatra glowed faintly.
"They'll blink first."
Morning broke over the eastern gates of Zhushen, casting golden light on the ancient district of Shanluan Forge, a secluded sector built into the side of the mountains. Here, molten rivers flowed beneath steel walkways, and the hammering of Muti-infused metals echoed through the narrow alleys.
William had arranged for the finalists to visit the famed blacksmith and relic craftsman Jin Yao, whose weapons were said to be blessed by elemental spirits themselves.
The group walked through the steam-heavy courtyard, gazing up at towering forges and elemental conduits etched with glowing runes
Kai looked around. "Feels like walking inside a living volcano."
Lila touched a glowing furnace with awe. "It's so warm… and weirdly cozy."
William motioned them onward. "Behave. This guy's picky. He doesn't forge unless the spirit of the weapon accepts you."
They entered the workshop.
Jin Yao stood by a massive anvil, shirtless and covered in Muti seals, his arms like tree trunks wrapped in flame threads.
But Rin didn't see him at first.
Because someone else stood beside the forge—
A woman in a sleeveless blacksmith's robe, long midnight-blue hair tied back, her Viatra glinting faintly under the forge light.
She turned.
"Rin?"
He froze. "…Rika?"
She laughed, a sound that hadn't changed since childhood. "I knew it. You still squint when you're caught off guard."
Kai blinked. "You know her?"
Rin cleared his throat. "We trained together… before everything."
Rika Kurotani, once a daughter of the Black Clan's allied family, now a master apprentice under Jin Yao. She walked over, barely hiding her smirk.
"I heard about your match," she said. "Still moving like a shadow on fire."
"You've changed," Rin replied, eyes flicking to her hammer.
"So have you," she said. "But I can still read that scowl."
Jin Yao stepped forward. "You're not here to flirt. You're here to bond. With your weapons."
He clapped his hands and several racks rose from the molten floor, revealing swords, spears, gauntlets, staffs—each humming with faint, living energy.
"These are spirit-bound frames," he said. "They will not awaken unless they choose you."
Rika stepped forward beside him. "Place your hand on the one that calls to you. But be warned. If it rejects you… it burns."
One by one, the team stepped forward.
Kai approached a sleek, twin-handled staff wreathed in faint golden script. It pulsed with light the moment he touched it.
Rin stepped forward last.
He placed his hand on a curved obsidian blade sealed in dark glass.
It didn't glow.
It sang.
A whisper only he could hear: "Remember who you were… and who you must become."
Rika watched him closely. "It remembered you."
Rin's fingers tightened on the hilt.
"It always did."
And with that, the blades had spoken.
The city of Zhushen began its slow descent into twilight.
Preparations for the finals had already begun in the great amphitheater. Lanterns floated into the air, cascading in crimson and gold. Trumpets sounded in the distance. The crowd would return. The world would watch.
But the team still had hours before their battle.
Rin remained behind at the forge, under the care of Rika and Jin Yao, practicing with the obsidian blade—now named Kagehana, the Shadow Petal.
Its edge shimmered faintly with Abyssal resonance.
"Try again," Rika said, arms crossed.
Rin exhaled and channeled his Martial and Abyssal Muti together. Shadow Bloom Slash cut through the air, leaving behind drifting black petals that burned like slow embers.
"Cleaner," she nodded. "But that blade's not just for cutting. It's for reminding people who you are."
He lowered the weapon. "Still feels… heavy."
"It should. You're carrying your clan in it. That weight won't lift until you do what you came here for."
She placed a hand over his. For a moment, her voice softened. "And you're not alone anymore. Remember that."
Meanwhile, the rest of the team wandered the festival ahead of the finals.
Kai sat at a quiet noodle stall with Aria, eating in silence. The flickering light of fire lanterns reflected in his eyes.
She nudged him. "You still thinking about your loss?"
He didn't answer.
She sighed. "You're the strongest person I know, Kai. But even strength breaks sometimes. What matters is what you build with those pieces after."
He looked down at his bowl. "I just thought… if I was perfect, no one would ever leave me again."
Aria blinked. "Is that why you train so hard?"
He nodded. "It's not just about power. It's about control. Stability. I needed that after… everything."
She smiled sadly. "Then let's build something stable. Together."
They ate in silence.
Back at the forge, William and Jin Yao observed the final moments of Rin's training.
William grinned. "Kid's finally learning to stop holding back."
Jin Yao crossed his arms. "His blade is awake. Now let's see if his soul can follow."
The finals would begin at dusk.
And Rin wasn't just fighting for victory anymore.
He was fighting for legacy.
Time: 6:00 PM — Zhushen Arena, The Finals Begin
The bells of the empire rang, thunderous and clear.
Crowds flooded back into the amphitheater. Dignitaries took their seats. The sky had turned from gold to scarlet. Night approached with ritual grace.
Flame-banners unfurled from the balconies. Drums pounded like war hearts.
The Final Eight stood in the center of the colosseum:
• Rin Kairo — Bronze Seeker (and the only one representing his squad)
• Solene "The Zenith" Ivaris
• Omar "Scorchblade" Hakim
• Zhen Murai of the Iron Spire
• Nyro Yusara, "The Serpent's Bloom"
• Calen Vorr, the Verdant Blight
• Mei-Lan of the Crimson Fan
• Drexus, the Ashen Brawler
The crowd roared.
From the highest balcony, the Emperor of Chun stepped forward in flowing robes of crimson and obsidian, golden dragons curled across his shoulders. His voice, regal and commanding, echoed through the silence.
"Warriors of the world. Seekers of truth. You have fought, bled, and risen above the storm. Tonight, you do not just represent your regions—you carry your names into legend."
He paused, eyes falling on Rin.
"Among you, only one stands as a banner-bearer for his entire squad: Rin Kairo, of the Black Clan. The last of his line, a Seeker of iron will."
Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd.
"Let the trials commence. Let fate judge your worth."
Back in the prep chambers, Rin stood alone, hand resting on the hilt of his blade.
William entered. "First match—Rin Kairo… versus Nyro Yusara."
He gave a firm nod. "Time to show them why the Black Clan still casts a long shadow."
Arena: Midnight Bloom Garden
The stage transformed—a jungle of black thorns, blooming orchids, and flowing crimson mist.
Nyro stepped forward, long black robes trailing behind him, twin serpentine blades pulsing with green venom.
"So, you're the last Kairo," Nyro whispered. "Your clan's blood burned beautifully."
Rin stepped forward, eyes glowing red.
"I'm here to end your family's part in our story."
Begin.
Nyro struck with lightning speed, his blades slashing in wild arcs. Poisonous vines erupted from the ground.
Rin leapt, rebounding off a stone pillar.
Martial Muti: Hollow Crescent Step.
He twisted midair, narrowly dodging thorned tendrils and lashing toxins.
He landed—slammed his palm into the ground—
Gravitum Muti: Compression Bloom.
The vines bent under sudden pressure, allowing Rin a direct line of attack.
He charged—Kagehana drawn—
Slash of the Forgotten Root.
A clean strike tore through Nyro's robe—but the enemy grinned.
"Too slow."
Nyro exploded into a swarm of blood orchids—an illusion.
Behind Rin—Nyro appeared, slashing at his back—
Rin spun just in time, Viatra flaring—
Eclipse Gaze: Moment Lock — his eyes froze time perception.
Rin countered mid-turn with Kagehana's Secret Form: Petal Reversal.
A burst of shadow petals blinded Nyro, who stumbled.
Rin landed a devastating roundhouse, followed by a knee to the chest.
Nyro roared, unleashing his true Muti:
Blood Orchard Bloom.
The arena transformed—crimson petals rained from the sky, acidic mist spreading.
Rin dropped to one knee.
His aura trembled.
But he gritted his teeth.
"I'm not losing… not again."
He closed his eyes—tapped into his pain.
Spiritus Muti: Soul Echo — Voice of the Fallen.
A whisper passed through the air—ghostly voices of the Black Clan.
Their strength surged in his limbs.
He stood. Kagehana pulsed.
Final technique—
Black Bloom Finale: Ten Thousand Thorns.
A field of shadow-blades burst from the earth, intercepting every tendril, every toxin, and pinning Nyro in a crucifix of steel.
Nyro screamed.
Then—collapsed.
Silence.
Rin stood alone.
The crowd thundered.
And high above, the Emperor of Chun leaned forward in his seat.
"Well played… little ghost."
Time: 6:40 PM — Zhushen Arena, Second Match of the Finals
The crowd had barely calmed from Rin's stunning victory when the second match was announced.
"Next combatants: Calen Vorr, the Verdant Blight… versus Omar 'Scorchblade' Hakim!"
Gasps rippled across the colosseum. Two elemental juggernauts. Nature versus Flame.
From the northern gate, Calen Vorr entered slowly, clad in moss-covered armor, his left arm a living vine, eyes glowing a faint chlorophyll green. A Seeker from the ruined Greenhold, Calen had fused with a primal tree spirit after a deadly expedition in the Deepwilds.
From the southern gate, Omar Hakim walked with rolling shoulders and burning confidence. Dark skin kissed by flame, his sleeveless robes shimmered with heat distortion. His arms were wrapped in charred bandages. With each step, embers trailed behind.
He cracked his neck. "Hope you don't mind if I burn the garden."
Calen's voice was gravel and root. "Try."
Begin.
Omar erupted forward with Flame Martial Muti: Scorch Serpent Dash, his body spiraling with flame.
Calen stomped once—Earth Muti: Root Bastion—and thick vines erupted around him, forming a dome of hardened bark and steelwood.
Omar's fists struck the dome with explosive force, sending sparks across the arena.
Calen countered, launching Verdant Bindings, whips of razor-thorned ivy aimed to constrict.
Omar somersaulted backward and unleashed Phoenix Pulse Kata, a rapid flurry of kicks that left arcs of flame lingering midair.
Each seeker was now fighting for space—Calen to trap, Omar to pressure.
Then Calen raised both arms—Nature's Grasp: Bloom of Restraint.
From beneath the arena, an ancient root system awakened, bursting through stone and grabbing Omar's legs.
He grinned. "Been saving this."
He whispered the technique:
Martial Muti + Flame Fusion: Dragon's Burnout Form.
His body became a silhouette of molten fire. Hair flared, skin turned ember-black.
He tore through the vines with a roar and launched a Flame Spiral Cannon Punch—the impact melted half the arena wall.
Calen staggered, his bark armor splintering. He summoned Verdant Bloom Armor, his skin shifting to green-bronze bark as he retaliated with a crushing hammerfist made from hardened root.
The two clashed in a flurry of explosive strikes, flames versus growth, combustion versus containment.
The sky darkened overhead as the temperature soared.
Final Exchange
Both Seekers charged.
Omar: "Flame Devourer Style: Infernal Fang."
Calen: "Nature's Warden: Crushing Canopy."
A massive inferno-claw clashed with an emerald-green wall of entwined branches.
The result? A colossal explosion of fire and splinters.
When the smoke cleared—
Omar knelt, barely conscious, panting.
Calen stood, but one knee buckled.
The referee stepped forward—
"…Victory goes to Calen Vorr, by survival."
The crowd burst into cheers and disbelief.
Backstage, Rin watched in silence.
William leaned against the stone wall behind him. "That's your potential next opponent. Watch his roots. And that temper."
Rin nodded. "Noted."
Two down. Six remain.
While the colosseum pulsed with cheers and celebration, the outer district of Ironveil was eerily quiet.
Another Seeker had been found—gutted, with symbols carved into their chest. The fourth this week.
Whispers swept through the city. Rumors of a rogue Seeker… or worse.
The authorities tried to suppress it, but the citizens knew: someone was hunting their own.
They called him the Red Whisper—a killer who didn't leave traces, only echoes of blood.
And whether the tournament ended in glory or ash… the paths of these champions would cross his eventually.
Time: 7:10 PM — Zhushen Arena, Third Match of the Finals
"Next combatants: Mei-Lan of the Crimson Fan… versus Drexus, the Ashen Brawler!"
The crowd murmured as the two contenders emerged.
From the west gate came Mei-Lan, her long robes swirling like cherry blossoms caught in a storm. Her eyes were veiled, not out of blindness, but to heighten her combat sensitivity. Twin fans adorned with crimson feathers rested in her hands, rumored to cut more precisely than blades. She moved like poetry—graceful, unreadable, and lethal.
From the east gate stomped Drexus, a wall of muscle with skin like scorched iron. No shirt. Only thick wrappings around his knuckles and an old cloak that looked like it had survived a hundred wars. His presence was thunderous. His breath came like smoke. A Seeker from the Burned Quarter, Drexus had survived the Collapse of Emberhold by punching through a landslide. Literally.
Mei-Lan bowed elegantly.
Drexus snorted. "Let's get on with it."
Begin.
Drexus charged first—Martial Muti: Iron Quake Step—each footstep cracked the ground.
Mei-Lan didn't move.
At the last second, she twisted sideways with Crimson Slip Technique, avoiding the punch by less than an inch and dragging her fan across his ribs.
A line of blood appeared a heartbeat later.
Drexus growled. "Cute trick."
He swung again. She danced through the strikes, slicing tendons, nerves, and aura points with pinpoint grace.
Fan Style: Petal Vein Waltz.
Drexus, slowing.
He slammed his fists together.
Ash Form Activation: Embercore Release.
His body turned ember-black, glowing cracks running up his forearms. Each blow now sent heat waves rippling.
Mei-Lan winced as the rising heat began to distort her air pattern. Her fans began to hiss.
She shifted tactics.
Wind Muti: Blooming Gust.
One of her fans now danced with currents—every motion redirecting heat and momentum. She flew above the crowd like a blooming falcon.
Drexus leapt after her, cracking the arena floor with the sheer force of his takeoff.
Clash in Midair.
Drexus: Ashen Meteor Fist
Mei-Lan: Crimson Cyclone Wing
Flame met wind. Ash collided with silk.
Both were thrown to opposite ends of the arena.
Final Exchange
They struggled to stand.
Drexus roared—charged like a wounded beast.
Mei-Lan spun.
"Crimson Fan Secret Art: Thousand-Petal Guillotine."
Her fans exploded into dozens of spectral blades.
They swirled. Cut. Encircled Drexus.
He stood tall, laughing through the pain.
But he dropped.
One final blade nicked his neck, and blood trickled.
The referee raised his hand.
"Victory: Mei-Lan of the Crimson Fan."
Meanwhile – Lower Districts of Chun
Another body was found.
This one was different.
It wore Seeker robes. But there was no wound.
Only a symbol—burned into the wall behind him.
A red eye, stitched by fingers.
The Red Whisper had struck again.
But this time, a witness saw something—
A shadow slipping through the alley. Masked. Graceful.
And fast.
The guards couldn't keep up.
But someone else would.
Back at the colosseum, Rin's eyes twitched as he sat with the finalists.
He had felt something.
A memory. A presence.
Something familiar.
Time: 8:10 PM — Zhushen Arena, Semifinal Lineup
The colosseum roared as the semifinal matchups were announced. Three rounds remained until the champion of Chun would be crowned.
William stood in the observation balcony beside Master Elric.
"Rin's still calm," William muttered, "but something in him's shifting. You see it?"
Elric gave a small nod. "His aura is heavier. His thoughts are faster."
Below them, banners flew. Drums pounded again.
"FIRST SEMIFINAL: Rin Kairo vs Calen Vorr!"
The crowd erupted.
Meanwhile, in the Lower Districts – Alley of the Black Lanterns
Three guards chased a figure cloaked in midnight. The killer moved like vapor—through walls, over rooftops, barely stirring air.
The Seeker murderer known as the Red Whisper had left a trail of half-glimpsed horror, his true identity unknown.
But tonight, he stopped.
He turned his head, ever so slightly. Watching.
A hooded woman leaned against a wall at the alley's end.
Her arms were folded.
A faint smile.
"Found you," she whispered.
Back at the Colosseum
Rin adjusted the wrap around his wrist, standing in the waiting chamber beneath the arena.
Across from him stood Calen Vorr, still scarred from his last battle, but resolute.
"You carry a storm in your eyes," Calen said, "and roots in your blood. Let's see which one holds."
Rin gave a small nod. "Just don't break too early."
William clapped Rin on the shoulder. "You've seen his techniques. Root armor. Bloom traps. That spirit fusion makes him durable and adaptive. But he's not faster than you."
Rin replied, eyes glowing faintly, "He doesn't have my vision."
Semifinal Match: Rin Kairo vs Calen Vorr
The arena had changed.
A field of stone rings, hovering platforms, and trees grown through ancient statues.
Announcer: "A test of footwork and adaptability. Only one will move forward."
The bell rang.
Rin exploded forward—Martial Muti: Phantom Chain Step.
Calen summoned Bloom Wall Defense, vines snapping up to block. But Rin twisted midair, his foot catching the side of a column—
Elemental Muti: Fire Lash Palm—a fire pulse broke the vine shield, and Rin landed a clean strike across Calen's ribs.
Calen grunted. Countered with Thorn Maw Coil—a snake-like branch shot up from below.
Rin's Viatra flared.
Eclipse Gaze: Kill-Line Prediction.
He sidestepped and slashed with Spectral Muti: Phantom Pierce, creating a shadow blade that tore the trap before it could close.
Climactic Clash
Calen roared and activated his trump card:
Nature Spirit Resonance: Verdant Colossus Form.
His body grew in size, armored by bark and living moss, with a root-club forming in one arm.
"Come, child of ghosts!" Calen bellowed.
Rin stood still. One breath.
Abyssal-Gravitum Muti: Hollow Field Collapse.
Gravity surged. Calen's footing cracked.
Rin appeared above him in a flicker—Martial Muti: Heaven-Thread Cutter.
He struck with such precision that Calen's armor split at the joints, and the colossus fell to one knee.
Rin whispered: "Black Bloom: Soul Thorn Pulse."
A bloom of darkness exploded from his palm into Calen's chest.
Calen dropped.
Silence.
Then a cheer so loud it shook the banners.
"Victory: Rin Kairo!"
He breathed hard, but his stance never broke.
Backstage, William turned to Elric. "His eye evolved again."
Elric: "He's beginning to see fate lines… That's not just Viatra. That's something new."
Elsewhere in Chun
The woman who confronted the Red Whisper pressed her blade against his neck.
"You're fast, but not faster than regret."
He smiled beneath the mask.
"Then let's bleed the city together."
Only one match remains before the final duel.
And Chun is no longer just a city of celebration…
It has become a stage for something deeper.
And darker.
Time: 8:45 PM — Zhushen Arena, Fourth Match of the Finals
The crowd still buzzed from Rin's decisive victory when the final match of the night's semifinals was announced.
"Final Semifinal Match: Solene 'The Zenith' Ivaris… vs Mei-Lan of the Crimson Fan!"
Two Seekers known not just for strength—but precision.
Solene walked forward bathed in quiet radiance. Her hair glimmered silver-white under the moonlight, a halo of luminescent particles swirling faintly around her. Clad in form-fitting white armor etched with runes of light, she carried no weapon—but her aura itself shimmered like glass about to shatter.
Mei-Lan entered next, eyes veiled, her crimson fans folded like the wings of a sleeping hawk. She walked gracefully, her posture unreadable, her breathing in perfect sync with the drumbeats.
From the royal balcony, the Emperor of Chun rose.
"The finals approach. Let this be the last storm before the dawn."
His voice echoed like a bell. The arena fell silent.
Begin.
Solene lifted her hand. A single command.
Radiance Muti: Halo Construct – Equinox Blade.
A massive sword of shimmering light condensed into her grasp.
Mei-Lan countered instantly, launching into Crimson Veil: Petal Step, a series of rapid fan strikes that danced through the sword's reach.
Solene barely moved her feet. Her blade spun on her fingertips, its reach adapting with blinding speed.
Every block lit the arena in bursts of starlight.
Mei-Lan weaved wind into her fans—Aero-Fan Fusion: Twin Cyclone Bloom—and launched herself upward with slicing gusts.
Solene raised a hand.
Radiance Seal: Morning Wall.
A wall of light rose, absorbing the twin gusts in a flash.
Climactic Clash
The battle intensified. Each move had no waste.
Mei-Lan used Echo Muti: Whisper Bloom, creating afterimages that each struck with a slight delay.
Solene closed her eyes. Her light began to pulse rhythmically.
She activated her trump card:
Divine Prism State: Zenith Bloom Form.
A crown of light formed around her brow. The sword dissolved into hundreds of radiant shards, each floating around her.
Her voice was calm: "Light cuts between thoughts."
The shards moved with mind-controlled precision.
Mei-Lan was forced into Crimson Veil: Requiem Petals, creating a protective cyclone of fans spinning around her.
But the light found cracks.
Cut.
Cut.
Cut.
Her veil shredded. A line of blood traced down her cheek.
She landed on one knee.
Solene descended like a comet, gathering all the shards into one strike—
Final Technique: Starlight Guillotine.
Mei-Lan's fans blocked—but splintered.
The impact sent her sliding across the marble.
Referee stepped forward.
"…Victory: Solene Ivaris."
Backstage
Rin watched silently.
William whistled. "Light and pressure. She's not just powerful, she's precise. You'd better pray your Viatra's still got room to grow."
Rin: "I don't pray."
Elsewhere in Chun — Black Silk Market
The killer known as Red Whisper leaned against a rooftop.
Across the street, his observer—the hooded woman—watched him.
"You're not just hunting Seekers," she muttered, "you're testing the city's pulse."
He turned. Smiled beneath the mask.
The woman touched a rune on her wrist.
"He's heading toward the next Seeker watchpost. Prepare extraction. He's escalating."
The Red Whisper had not yet struck his final chord.
But the melody of death was rising.
End of Semifinals
Only two finalists remained:
Rin Kairo and Solene Ivaris.
Night deepened over Chun.