"Orion. You were late by 3 hours…" Leah said, looking down at him.
He forced a smile. "I, uh… I had an emergency."
She ignored the lie. She said, "Either way, I've already spoken to the committee. We've decided to let you in and finish off your match… but only under a condition."
Orion perked up, relieved by the hope. "Anything." He was afraid that this woman would make it tough for her because of his bad relationship with Zion, but thankfully, she isn't. Or so he thought for a moment.
But then, she stepped closer, her eyes narrowing like sharpened blades as she spoke. "In truth, the condition was set by your father."
Orion's breath caught. "Yes?"
"He said: In your next match, you are to end the fight within five minutes. No more, no less. If you fail, you withdraw from the tournament. No second chances. It was only under this condition that you are allowed to participate, because if you could do that, it means you have the potential to make it to the top 8, for which we can slide some mistakes."
Silence hung between them like a blade for a few seconds.
Leah looked at him and said. "These were Azrael's exact words. I didn't change a single word. So, will you accept it or will you not?"
Orion stood frozen. The heat of the midday sun was nothing compared to the condition he had to abide. "Five minutes to win… or I'm out," he muttered.
Leah nodded once. "Yes, even if you win, if you take more than five minutes, it's as if you lose the match. So, what will you do, Orion?"
After a while,
Orion pushed open the glass-paneled doors, his steps slower than usual, his expression unreadable as he entered the waiting hall.
The digital board above flickered, Match 6: Concluded. Match 7: Preparing.
Orion's name blinked under Match 12.
A sigh of relief slipped past his lips. "There's still time."
But he didn't get far before a familiar voice sliced through the low murmur.
"Where the hell were you?"
Fiona stood by the water dispenser, arms folded tightly, brows drawn in suspicion and concern.
Orion blinked. "Huh?"
"I sent you messages all morning. You didn't even respond."
As he didn't have a phone, he instinctively reached for the slim, translucent card embedded in his belt. With a flick of divine energy, the faintly glowing surface came to life.
"There's nothing," he muttered. "Dad said the message card can store unread messages for a week."
Fiona's eyes narrowed in confusion. "That doesn't make sense. I sent at least five during the past three hours."
Orion looked up at her, something uncertain flickering in his gaze. "Maybe they didn't deliver?"
"Or…" Fiona's voice lowered, her mind racing, "maybe they were intercepted."
A brief silence fell between them. Neither said it aloud, but both were now thinking the same thing—someone tampered with his messages.
Before Fiona could press further, Orion's eyes wandered to the nearby screen listing today's fixtures. He caught a name.
Name: Elise Striker
"This damn bit*ch didn't even wake me up and just went head with the match and won."
Fiona followed his gaze, then raised an eyebrow. "You are lucky that your match is in the later stages. Or else, you would have been out of the tournament by forfeit."
Orion's jaw tensed as he let out a sigh. "Yeah, I know."
His eyes then darted to Zion and Selene's names, both showing "Victory." Like Elise, both of them also finished their matches and moved into the top 16.
He then saw Fiona's name and pointed it out. "Your match is number 15. What's your opponent like?"
Fiona shrugged. "Ah, he is not a problem. Just a rank-6. I can defeat him with a punch."
Orion didn't know what to say to her statement. He could only give a nod, then looked down at his fists. He opened and closed them slowly.
A couple of hours later;
The arena lights dimmed slightly as the shimmering barrier dome locked into place with a hum.
The name Orion blazed on one side of the battle screen; on the other, a dark silhouette appeared beside the name: Grimm.
"Opponent: Grimm MacRae," the announcer declared.
Orion has already learnt about his opponent from Fiona. Basically, the MacRae family is like the Night Family, the family of assassins.
Taking a deep breath, Orion walked into the field and landed on top of the platform.
A lean man emerged a minute after his entrance. Clad in sleek black armor with emerald trim, a jagged-edged obsidian dagger dangled loosely in his hand. His face was concealed under a half-mask; the only visible feature, glowing green eyes that didn't blink.
Orion stepped forward, eyes steady. But internally, tension chewed at his resolve. "Five minutes." That was all he had. His father's warning echoed like a ticking clock in his chest.
Grimm offered no words. Instead, his body blurred, melting into a pool of shadow that spread across the marble floor like black ink as soon as the match started.
A pulse of divine energy surged through Orion's arms as he leapt backward, summoning his mithril bow in a streak of silvery light for the first time in public. Some spectators in the audience section mistook it for his Arcana spirit, but the experts knew it better. It was only a man-made weapon, just a beautifully crafted one.
Before he could nock an arrow, the shadow on the floor snapped upward like a serpent. Grimm emerged from it mid-leap, dagger arcing straight for Orion's throat.
Orion bent low, rolled, and came up with a swipe of his bow to deflect the strike.
CLANG!
Even with the divine reinforcement, the sheer force of Grimm's strike numbed Orion's arm. The assassin landed, spun, and melted into the ground again.
"His body becomes intangible…," Orion muttered, eyes narrowing. "I can't hit him physically when he's in that form…"
Above, the timer ticked: 0:54 / 5:00
Grimm burst up behind him again, dagger slicing through the air like lightning. Orion spun, drawing his bow mid-motion, firing a divine arrow—SNAP!
It hit the shadow as Grimm retreated into his form again. No damage.
"He's baiting me," Orion realized, leaping up just as a tendril of shadow wrapped around his ankle.