Sonno's fight was incredible. Watching it up close brought back memories of Yaso—I imagined him as one of the fighters, using his old moves in that grand coliseum.That thought fired me up for my own battle.
Akrivís also won, as her opponent forfeited after leaving the arena pierced by several arrows. As soon as Sonno's match ended, I ran over to her.
"You were perfect!" I exclaimed, hugging her tightly.
The hug made her flinch slightly in pain and spill part of a healing potion she had been drinking. I had arrived so suddenly that I startled her.
"Thank you so much!" she replied, finishing the potion. "It was tough, even though it was just the first match."
"Did Sonno win?" she asked curiously.
"Yes!" I replied, full of excitement. "You should've felt the energy in the colise—"
Before I could finish, a tall boy with red hair and a build like a gorilla interrupted our conversation.
"Where is he now?" he asked in a deep voice.
"And who are you, big guy?" I retorted, frowning.
"Answer my question first!" he snapped, quickly losing patience.
That's when I remembered him: I had seen him before the matches began, arguing with some students at the academy's main gate.
"Uh… he's probably just leaving the coliseum now," I replied politely, though with a trace of suspicion.
Without another word, the boy sprinted off in the direction I'd pointed. His steps made the ground tremble as if a small earthquake had begun.
Akrivís gave me a puzzled look.
"Some people around here are just plain crazy…"
"But… tell me, Misti," she began, "how old were you when you started training?"
"Before I was even born," I answered. "I've spent my whole life wielding a sword."
"I can't wait to see you fight!"
"It'll be my first real battle since the incident that killed the entire group of heroes. I've got to admit—I'm pretty nervous."
The rest of the day flew by.
I watched several matches alongside Akrivís. I saw students nearly die and others be praised as living legends. That's when I realized something important: there's a strict political hierarchy within the academy.
Beyond the divisions by uniform and study area, there are the so-called Seven Principles—the seven strongest students, who are directly nominated for government positions, as happened with General Soáu.
This man, who studied at the academy for five years, became one of the most powerful figures in the government precisely because he was the strongest of the Seven.
But he's also the one who imprisoned Sonno's father. And he was the one who attacked us on the road.
I live with a constant fear: that Sonno will die trying to kill Soáu and rescue his father.
These thoughts were still echoing in my mind during dinner. We were sitting at one of the dozens of wooden tables in the cafeteria, each able to seat up to five people.
We were eating a deep bowl of hot soup when Sonno and the "gorilla-boy" entered the cafeteria. Many girls looked at him with disdain—probably because he had defeated their "favorite." In contrast, some of the boys watched him with admiration.
Sonno's right eye was covered by white bandages—right where his maculado mark is located.
"Looks like he found him. Weird... he does look like a gorilla," Akrivís said, her mouth full of soup.
"You know him?" said Sonno, patting the boy's back. "He's one of my roommates. His name is Thymós. He's a bit hot-headed by nature, but he's not mean on purpose."
The cafeteria doors opened again.
The strongest boy in the academy entered.
His hair was white as clouds, and his body, though subtle, was well-defined. His face looked like it had been sculpted from marble—almost perfect. They say even the government covets his strength.
He is the son of God. The only one from Monóklino.
"Sonno! Congratulations on your victory against Chyo!" said Próta, clapping as he walked toward us. "He wasn't an easy opponent… but I knew you wouldn't let me down."
The entire cafeteria went silent, watching Próta.
Everyone was surprised when he placed his hands on Sonno's shoulders and whispered something into his ear—a completely unexpected gesture coming from him.
They were probably jealous. Everyone here wants to be friends with the son of God.
"So… is there room at your table?" asked Próta, already sitting down beside Akrivís.
"Of course!" she replied, grinning from ear to ear.
For the next half hour, we ate normally, discussing the match results and everyone's performance in the arena.
"Don't those stares bother you?" Sonno asked after sipping his tea. "Feels like we're being watched all the time."
"I've gotten used to it," Próta replied. "My father taught me that people only stare because they admire you… or because of a pull from the heart."
"Well then, I guess everyone feels something for me!" he concluded, laughing to himself.
But I was curious.
"Why did you choose to live with other students?" I asked, looking him straight in the eyes. "Wouldn't the House of the Seven be better?"
His expression darkened, as if a painful memory took hold of his mind.
"I don't want to live where the false messiah once lived," he said seriously. The boy who had been laughing was now grim.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Thymós, slapping his hand on the table.
"Forget what I said," Próta muttered, trying to recover his cheerful tone. "We're here to celebrate our victories!"
Most likely, only Sonno, Próta, and I knew the truth about Soáu.
The general, beloved by the nation, inherited his position after killing his own father. Many revere him for his deeds—for healing the sick and performing miracles.
Today, at thirty-three, he's seen as almost a saint.
"To victory in the coliseum!" we all said at once, raising our cups of tea.
In the blink of an eye, the final day of the first phase arrived.The day of my battle.
It was a rainy day. The dark sky and biting cold reminded me of the night I got trapped with Sonno in the cave."Good luck out there, Mik…" he said, coughing as he accidentally called me by my old name. "I'm sure you've got this, Misti."
Before I entered the arena, Sonno ran his hand over my head — the same gesture my father used to make every time I left home."I won't fall behind, Sonno!" I promised.
Then I crossed the iron gate.
"Enter, fighters!" boomed the man in the black cloak, his voice echoing like thunder. "In this match, we have two new students. Let's see what they can offer! May the present god bless this battle!"
My opponent was Natsu. She looked like a nine-year-old child, with dark hair tied in two symmetrical bunches. I had no idea how she fought.
I drew my sword and began to advance slowly, shifting between two styles: Wind and Stone. The Wind style grants agility and quick strikes, while the Stone style is more defensive, offering endurance and power for heavy attacks. The difference lies in the elemental mastery and how it flows through the body during battle.
"Watch out, Misti!" Sonno shouted from the stands.
A massive stone wall came crashing down over me, its surface covered in spikes the size of grown people.
Stone Style: Let's… Rock!
I caught the wall with my left hand. Sheathing my sword, I lifted it and hurled it at Natsu with all my strength. The crowd roared in unison.
"You can use the Stone style too?" Natsu asked, leaping over the barrier with surprising agility.
"Nature is my home, and my strength is like a mountain!" I replied, distracting her with the wall and landing a punch to her ribs, sending her flying to the left side of the arena.
"Brute strength isn't everything," she said, placing her palms on the ground.
Spikes erupted around me, piercing my legs. Then Natsu formed a spear and charged.
My body froze — as if poisoned. Her spear struck my chest but failed to pierce it.
"Incredible that you're maintaining hardening for so long," she said, stepping back, exhausted from sustaining the element.
I raised my sword again, now free from the sluggishness, and slashed her shoulder.
"You know what?" I said, punching her face. "I usually sleep while using my powers. That way, I can keep them up as long as I want!"
Natsu staggered. Blood trickled from her nose, and she took two shaky steps back, panting.
"You're… different," she muttered, frowning. "It's like… you're not really here."
"Because part of me never left my dreams," I replied, spinning my sword between my fingers. "And in my dreams… I always win."
The arena trembled beneath our feet. Natsu raised her hands, summoning dozens of sharp roots that lunged at me like starving serpents.
Wind Style: Blade Breeze
My sword hummed in a fluid motion. Each strike sliced through the roots before they could touch me. The sound was like leaves being torn away by a storm. I weaved through the gaps with ease — as if dancing among dangers.
Natsu retreated, trying to summon one last barrier of thorns in front of her. But it was too late.
Stone Style: Primal Blade
My sword turned dull like stone. I gripped it with both hands and brought it down on the barrier, shattering it into a thousand pieces and clearing a path straight to Natsu.
She tried to defend herself with her arms, but her strength had already faded.
I advanced. In the blink of an eye, the tip of my sword touched her neck.
Complete silence.
"It's over," I declared, voice steady.
Natsu dropped to her knees."You defeated me… but… who are you, really?"
I sheathed my sword and offered her a hand to help her up."Someone still figuring that out. But today… call me Misti."
She took my hand, hesitantly, and stood up with difficulty. The referee stepped out from the arena shadows, his voice firm:
"Winner: Misti!"
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. But the loudest sound was Sonno's voice from the stands:"That's it, Misti!"
I looked up at him, and his genuine smile made me smile too.
Inside, I felt something new… It wasn't just victory. It was the certainty that, step by step, I was getting closer to understanding who I was — and why I had been brought back.
But then a sharp pain burst in my chest — the same sensation I'd felt as a child.
And I collapsed, unconscious, to the ground…