"No," I said, shaking my head firmly. "They got my warning yesterday."
I reached into my coat and pulled out a folded parchment, its edges still crisp, the wax seal of the judges glaring up at me like a watchful eye.
"Besides, I got this this morning. One more rule-break, and I'm out. No more fighting."
I exhaled, leaning back. 'Even if I wanted to, I can't afford to interrupt again.'
"You think Katie'll do better than Zagan?" Amari asked, glancing sidelong at me.
I shook my head immediately, no hesitation. "No."
"Seriously?" Her brows shot up.
"He won't be playing around this time," I said, my gaze still locked on the field. "Not after yesterday. That caretaker of his should still be out cold."
Amari's lips pressed thin, and she nodded slowly. "Right."
[Arena — Katie vs. Logan]
"Let the match begin!" the announcer's voice thundered, carrying across the arena like a divine decree.
Logan wasted no time. His hand snapped upward, light flaring bright, and a dozen glowing holy lances materialized in the air around him. With a flick of his wrist, they launched in a deadly, precise volley.
Katie's reaction was immediate. She raised one hand and summoned a curved dome of water that enveloped her like a shield. The lances hit with explosive force-but instead of dispersing, they stopped cold, suspended inside the dome as though embedded in gelatin.
"She didn't dispel them," I muttered, leaning forward.
Amari frowned beside me. "What do you mean?"
"She's letting them stay. Using the water as containment, not destruction." My lips curled in a grin. "Smart."
Another volley came, wider this time, faster, a rain of light meant to overwhelm. Katie ducked, twisted past one, and sidestepped another, her movements smooth as water itself. Each dodge was followed by another shield forming with precise gestures. Soon five, then eight, then ten shimmering water barriers floated around the arena like orbiting moons.
"Damn rat!!" Logan bellowed, veins bulging on his temple. He conjured more lances, sweat already starting to bead on his brow. "Stop moving and die already!"
Katie landed lightly, her claymore glowing faintly as she balanced it easily in her hands. "Glaring and yelling won't help you," she said, her tone calm, clipped.
Her counterstrike came swift-a lance of water shooting forward with arrow-like precision.
Logan barked a laugh and conjured a golden shield, batting it aside with ease. Then he spread his wings of radiant light and shot upward, closing the distance in a single beat of feathers.
"You think you can bait me?!" he snarled, golden light pooling in his palm. It flared, shaping into a long holy sword that vibrated dangerously with unstable power. With a roar, he dove.
I laughed aloud. "That blade is so unstable, it's vibrating like a dying fly."
Amari snorted, grinning. "It's going to break before he even lands!"
Katie didn't so much as flinch. She raised her eyes calmly as he descended, holy sword aimed to cleave her in half.
Then her body burst apart-into water.
The sword passed through harmlessly, splashing into mist.
Katie reformed behind him a heartbeat later, her claymore already raised overhead. "You reincarnated types might be older in theory," she said, her voice cutting sharp, "but you're still full of flaws."
We both grinned in the VIP room. "She's not wrong."
CLANG!
Logan's golden shield flared at the last second, intercepting the strike. The impact rattled the arena, forcing him back, his boots skidding across the marble. But the defense held.
He grinned wide, arrogant. "See? I told you-"
Then he stopped.
Because he finally noticed.
Every one of Katie's water shields-twelve in total-had rotated during their clash. Slowly, precisely. And embedded inside each was a holy lance, aimed directly at him.
"...She baited you after all," I murmured, a wide grin spreading across my face.
Logan's eyes widened. He tried to leap away, but Katie pressed down hard with her claymore, locking his shield in place. He was trapped-his own weapon turned against him.
"FUCK YOU, DEMON ASS!!" he screamed.
BOOM!!
Twelve lances fired in unison, converging from every angle. The explosion was cataclysmic, a cyclone of force and holy light colliding with water, shattering stone. The arena shook, smoke and mist billowing so thick that the crowd screamed in confusion.
Gasps echoed through the coliseum, people clutching each other, pointing, and straining to see through the haze.
I didn't move. My eyes cut through the smoke like it wasn't there.
Amari leaned forward nervously. "Can you still see?"
"Yeah," I nodded slowly. "She didn't kill him. But she messed him up good."
As the smoke thinned, the carnage was revealed.
Logan lay on the ground, barely conscious. His right arm was gone, torn off at the shoulder. His body was shredded with burns and cuts, his legs twitching weakly as blood spread beneath him.
Katie stood-barely. She managed to stand on her feet through sheer will, with her claymore dug into the floor for balance. Her hands were mangled, fingers bent grotesquely. A deep wound punctured her abdomen, blood soaking down her thigh. And yet, she stood tall, glaring at him with unbroken resolve.
She staggered a few steps away, putting space between them, her chest heaving, her grip on the claymore shaking but steady.
"This will be interesting," I muttered, unable to stop the grin spreading on my face.
"Hey!" Amari swatted my arm. "No spoilers for us normal folks!"
I raised my hands innocently. "I didn't say anything!"
"She's in trouble though..." Amari's voice dropped, concern etched across her features. "She can't use her hands anymore."
"Oh, ladies and gentlemen! It seems Logan is down!" The announcer shouted, his voice pitched with forced excitement.
I raised a brow. "Huh. That's... optimistic."
Because Logan was moving. Slowly, painfully, but moving. He pressed his remaining hand to his chest, golden light pulsing as flesh knitted back together.
"Man... that was close," he muttered, his voice weak but smug.
Katie's glare didn't falter. "You should surrender," she said, voice ragged but steady. "You've got no mana left."
I frowned.
'She's bluffing.'
Logan's healing wasn't mana-it was raw divine energy, residual holy light feeding into his body. And Katie was the one at her limit. Her breath came shallow; her fingers barely twitched. Every ounce of her weight leaned on that claymore.
But Logan just laughed.
"Hah! As if I'd ever surrender to filthy demons!!"
Then his body erupted in light. A divine flare that blinded half the coliseum, forcing the crowd to shield their eyes.
"And the winner is... Logan!" The announcer's voice rang out, final and absolute.
The whole arena froze.
Even Amari's mouth snapped shut, her body going rigid beside me.
"...What the hell?" I whispered.
My aura surged. Glass shattered in the VIP room, shards scattering as dark mana rippled outward.
"Kitsuna-!" Amari shouted, but it was too late.
I vanished.
[Commentary Booth — Divine Interference]
I didn't land in the arena.
I landed in the commentary booth. Hard. The wood cracked beneath my boots, glass spider-webbing across the panel. The announcer shrieked, trembling under my shadow.
"You want to try that again?" I asked softly, my voice dripping with threat.
He stammered, mouth opening and closing-then froze as a singsong voice chimed behind him.
"Kitsune~."
I went still.
Then slowly turned my head.
Golden hair. Radiant skin. A smile so casual it could kill.
I didn't need an introduction.
I knew him. Not personally. But from every warning my mother had ever burned into me.
"So... you really are here," I said quietly, my eyes locked on his.
The God of Light tilted his head, his smile never faltering. "Oh? You know me?"
I stepped forward, lips curling. "Of course I do. You're a god."
His laugh was soft and effortless. "No need to be tense. I'm not here to trouble you. But I couldn't let my son lose before fighting you."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why does he want to fight me so badly?"
"Because he hates you, Shiro."
"...Huh?"
He chuckled, shrugging lightly. "Don't ask me. I don't know either."
"Ugh," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Drama. Rawr."
He laughed outright this time. "How cute."
I turned, voice steady. "I'll make sure we meet in the ring."
"Looking forward to it," he said brightly. "Say hello to Stacy for me."
"I won't," I shot back, then jumped-shattering the booth window and landing cleanly in the arena.
[Arena — Aftermath]
Katie stood, still swaying slightly, her claymore dug deep into the tiles to keep her upright. Her wide eyes fixed on me as I landed beside her.
"Hey," she rasped, voice thin. "What's going on?"
"You lost," I said softly. "Sorry, Katie. We can't do anything about it."
Her lips parted, disbelief cutting her face raw. "What? Why?"
"It's complicated," I said, forcing a smile I didn't feel.
She stared for a long second. Then her shoulders sagged, her head dropping.
"...Alright. Fine."
"Let's get you healed." I slipped an arm around her waist and steadied her, guiding her toward the changing rooms. Her weight leaned heavy into me, her breaths shallow, but she didn't resist.
As we walked, her voice became quiet. "So... what really happened?"
I kept my eyes forward.
"...Something not even Stacy can control."
Katie didn't answer.
And neither did I.
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Chapter 195: Post-Fight Conversation
[Changing Room-After Katie's Fight]
"Hey, are you alright?" "An?" she asked as she opened the door, her sharp eyes immediately scanning Katie from head to toe as though expecting to see her collapsed on the floor. Her posture was stiff, shoulders raised just slightly, betraying the worry she tried to keep hidden behind authority.
"Yes, Mother. They already healed me," Katie replied, sitting upright on the bench with only a slight wince as she shifted her weight. Her hands were pressed to the edge of the seat, fingers curled white-knuckled, but she still gave a faint nod, her voice steady. The usual fire in her gaze was dulled, like embers after the flames had already burned themselves out.
Ann stepped fully into the room and shut the door with a decisive click. The sound echoed in the small space, cutting off the murmur of the arena outside. She folded her arms tightly, eyes narrowing. "Why were you so reckless about it?" Her voice was edged, but not with raw anger-more with that mixture of fear and frustration only a mother could wear convincingly, the tone that lived halfway between scolding and desperate relief.
Katie shrugged, expression utterly unapologetic. Her lips tugged at a smirk that didn't quite take. "It was a good plan."
"It was," I chimed in from my post against the wall, arms crossed loosely over my chest. I leaned there casually, one ankle hooked over the other, playing the part of the bystander. "Worked like a charm."
"You shut up," Ann snapped immediately, her head jerking toward me with a glare sharp enough to slice steel. Her eyes narrowed into slits, and her voice cut like whiplash. "You're the worst influence here."
I raised my brows and lifted both palms in an innocent shrug, though the corner of my mouth tugged upward despite myself. She wasn't wrong. I didn't mind taking the blame-hell, I probably deserved most of it.
She turned back to Katie, exhaling through her nose with a long, controlled breath that trembled at the edges. "It was a good plan, but far too reckless. If that person had released one more burst of mana..." Her tone softened at the end, the sharp edges melting away, but the weight of her words hung thick in the air.
Katie lowered her eyes, her shoulders sinking under that pressure. She didn't apologize, but she didn't argue either. Silence stretched, and in it, guilt pooled quietly.
'Well, she's not wrong,' I thought, teeth pressing against the inside of my cheek. I wanted to make a quip, something to cut the tension, but I bit my tongue before the words slipped free. I'd have stepped in before Katie actually got crushed... probably. Maybe. The thought alone wasn't comforting enough to voice.
"Oh. "You're still here," Mom said as she walked in, her presence like a cold wind that shifted the entire air in the room. She folded her arms, her eyes sweeping across the three of us before settling on me, her gaze steady. Too steady.
I looked up quickly, my posture tightening instinctively. Her tone was calm-too calm. What struck me more was her composure. No fear. No stress. Nothing that even hinted at panic. And this despite the fact she knew her parents' killer had been nearby. She hated that man more than anyone-had every reason to lose control-but here she was, standing steady, a pillar of icy control.
"I need to talk to you," I said seriously, pushing off the wall. The humor drained from me instantly, replaced with a tight seriousness. I braced myself for whatever storm might follow.
"It wasn't him," she replied immediately, halting me mid-step like a blade to the throat.
"...What?" The word slipped out before I could cage it, shock slashing through me sharper than steel.
Mom's expression didn't waver. "That wasn't him. Or at least, not the true one."
I felt my frown pull deeper, suspicion crawling under my skin. "Then who-?"
"He never sends his real body," she continued, her tone flat and steady as if she had rehearsed this truth in her head a hundred times before. "He's a coward in many ways. Besides, our royal guard's top enforcers are still stronger than him."
I blinked. "Wait, hold on. You're saying... a Sin Holder isn't even the strongest thing out there? And how do you know it was a fake?"
She turned away from me, resting one hand lightly against the wall like it helped anchor her thoughts. Her fingers pressed so hard her knuckles whitened. "He wasn't fat."
"...What?" My confusion must have been plain; the words fell flat out of my mouth.
"Every sin has a price," she said, her voice taking on the cadence of a lecture she'd given many times but never wanted to. "His gluttony is always active. He gains mass from his magic. If he's slim, he's suppressing it. Or it's not him."
"Oh... right," I muttered, the explanation slotting into place in my head like gears turning. "Like how I'd destroy myself if I overused Wrath."
"Exactly."
"So he gets fat," I echoed, nodding slowly.
"His sin makes him fat," she confirmed without hesitation, each word heavy with certainty.
