[16th June]
Inside the stadium's medical wing, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Doctors and medics surrounded two beds placed slightly away from the others, separated not by distance, but by gravity. These two patients carried consequences far heavier than the rest.
One of them was Rey's opponent from earlier.
At first glance, his condition did not appear fatal.
But that was only at first glance.
A doctor flipped through several reports, his expression tightening with each page.
"What do you think of his condition?" another asked quietly.
"Will he be able to live as a warrior after this?"
The doctor exhaled slowly.
"No," he replied without hesitation.
"His entire body is ruined. Even though he's alive… movement itself will be a struggle. Fighting is impossible."
He turned another page.
"His upper body is almost dead. Muscles torn, nerves burned. The only reason he's breathing is sheer tenacity."
The man paused, choosing his words carefully.
"His brain suffered extreme overload. It's not destroyed… but it's badly damaged. I suspect he used some kind of external resource to forcefully boost his strength."
The doctor shook his head.
"His muscles were over-crammed beyond their limits. Signs of tearing everywhere. This isn't something the body recovers from."
"So…?"
"He's done," the doctor said bluntly.
"A warrior no longer."
He closed the file.
"He might wake up after weeks. Maybe months. Or never. At best, he lives. At worst… he doesn't wake up at all."
With that, the doctor walked away to attend to another patient.
The man who hadasked the questions stood still.
His eyes were cold.
Too cold.
He stepped away from the others and quietly made a call.
"Sir," he said softly.
"I've confirmed the target's condition. He's alive, but effectively vegetative."
There was a pause.
A voice answered from the other end.
"Hm. He did his job, then."
The voice was calm. Detached.
"End his suffering. Let him be free. This world is no longer meant for him. Be swift as a reward."
"And the main target?" the voice asked.
"Yes, sir," the man replied.
"Four doctors are treating him. But the odds are already in our favour."
He glanced toward the other side of the hall.
"Before they even identify the poison… his body will be hollowed out from the inside. The objective will be achieved."
The call ended.
The man lowered his phone, scoffed quietly, and walked away.
On the other side of the medical wing—
Rey lay surrounded.
Four doctors. Several medics.
Dark veins crawled visibly beneath his pale skin.
Poison.
There was no doubt about it.
The problem was that no one could identify it.
The reports had not returned yet.
And until they did, they could do nothing.
Adding to the pressure was the silent presence of Hosric Valemont, standing nearby.
The Lord of the Valemont family.
A man whose connection to this boy was not officially known—but deeply personal.
He stepped aside briefly to answer a persistent call, leaving the doctors to wait.
They knew one thing clearly.
This poison was not ordinary.
Administering random antidotes or techniques would be suicide.
Rey's wounds had already been cleaned and sealed.
Yet his blood—
It was unnaturally black.
So black that the doctors had initially thought he was already dead.
And yet…
He lived.
Clinging stubbornly to life, as if refusing to let go.
An unbendable will.
A medic moved closer, pretending to examine him.
"Doctor," he asked casually, "Any idea what poison this is yet?"
"No," the doctor replied, focused.
"Still waiting on the reports. If they arrive quickly, there's a ninety percent chance we can save him."
He waved the medic away.
"Go check on the others. Inform me immediately if any condition worsens."
The medic nodded and turned to leave.
But not before glancing once more at Rey's pale face.
'Hah… ninety percent?'
The thought made him smile beneath his mask.
'Do these fools really believe they can counter a poison born from the fusion of two beasts?
His body will collapse within thirty minutes.
Your hopes will rot along with him.'
The medic disappeared quietly.
As if he had never been there.
Time passed.
Rey's skin grew paler.
His limbs turned colder, heavier.
While his chest burned like a furnace filled with molten coal.
The doctors stood helpless.
Waiting.
Watching.
Hosric returned from his call.
The moment he saw Rey—
His chest tightened painfully.
This was worse than his first match.
'No…I know this poison.'
His breath trembled.
'If it's really that one…
How do I save you now?'
His hands clenched.
'History… don't repeat yourself.
My sister already lost Max that day…
Please… not this.
Not that poison.
Otherwise… It's the same fate.'
Hosric sat heavily on a nearby table, his head lowered, phone clenched tightly in his hand.
Rey struggled to breathe.
Each breath felt stolen.
His chest burned. His limbs were numb. He couldn't feel them anymore.
His vision blurred.
The ceiling above him felt distant.
Cold.
'Is this… the end?
So early…
What went wrong?
If I had shot instead of dodging… would it have changed anything?
No…
I don't want to die yet.
I haven't made my mother smile.
I haven't made my sister proud.
I haven't fulfilled a single promise.
Was everything I fought for just a dream…?'
Faces flickered through his fading mind.
Family.
Friends.
Aiden. Zero. Victor.
Memories replayed like a broken tape.
A single tear slid down his cheek.
Regret.
Failure.
His throat felt frozen.
He wanted to speak.
He couldn't.
Then—
Footsteps.
A medic rushed in, holding a file tightly.
The doctors turned instantly.
The report.
At last.
The head doctor scanned it.
His expression darkened.
"Oh no…"
Hosric rushed forward.
"What is it? Will he survive?"
The doctor hesitated.
"Sir… this is complicated."
"There aren't one… but two poisons in his body."
Hosric froze.
"One burns the Artist's organs from the inside—crippling them permanently."
"The other freezes the blood and vessels, stopping circulation entirely."
The doctor swallowed.
"He's alive only because of a miracle."
"In any other case… he would already be dead."
"So save him!" Hosric snapped, desperation breaking through.
"Do something!"
The doctor shook his head slowly.
"To counter this combination… we need time."
"And we don't have it."
Hosric's eyes lost their light.
"No…"
He remembered that day.
That body.
That loss.
"You can't die like him," he whispered, voice breaking.
"Why did you come to this tournament…?"
Tears spilt freely now.
"How do I face your mother…?"
He gripped Rey's hand.
"Rey… do anything."
"I don't care how."
"Just don't die."
"Do you hear me?"
Hosric clenched his head, fingers digging into his hair as he stared at Rey's unmoving body.
'I knew it…
Those bastards were behind this, too.
What kind of monster targets a kid?
To go as far as hiring an assassin from that hall…'
His jaw tightened, eyes burning red.
'I swear on my family name… even if it costs my life, I won't let them walk away if anything happens to this boy.'
A doctor stepped forward hesitantly.
"Sir… there is one option left," he said carefully.
"It's extremely risky."
Hosric turned slowly.
"We can try administering antidotes with similar properties," the doctor continued.
"If luck favours him, he may survive. But the chance of recovery beyond that is less than zero point one percent."
He swallowed.
"And the rest… is death."
Hosric's gaze alone made the doctor's spine go cold.
"Do it," Hosric said.
His voice was low. Controlled. Terrifying.
"Try everything."
"Even if there's only a single breath left in him, I don't care."
He clenched his fists.
"There are people waiting for him."
"And I am the one responsible for bringing him back alive."
His eyes narrowed.
"If he dies… don't expect your lives to remain peaceful."
The doctor didn't dare argue.
He turned immediately, barking instructions.
Moments later, two sealed bottles were brought in.
Each contained a different antidote.
Measured doses were prepared.
Injected.
Rey felt it.
Or rather—he didn't.
He could hear everything, yet his body no longer responded.
'So this is it… luck, huh. Maybe I am dead now then...'
The moment the medicine entered his veins, all eyes moved to the monitor.
The heartbeat line dipped.
Once.
Twice.
The room went silent.
The vitals weakened with every second.
Hope thinned.
Then—
A twitch.
Rey's hand trembled.
Slight. Almost unnoticeable.
But it was there.
His entire body shuddered violently.
Hosric, who had been sitting with his eyes closed, snapped upright.
He rushed forward, gripping Rey's wrist.
His eyes shut as he extended his senses.
And instantly—
They flew open.
His energy… was being destroyed.
No—devoured.
Something inside Rey was consuming it.
Hosric couldn't sense clearly.
It was chaotic.
Violent.
'Wait…
If the poison destroys energy… then—
There's a chance.'
He ripped open Rey's chest covering and placed his palm over his heart.
Then, without hesitation—
He pushed his Qi inside.
It vanished.
Devoured instantly.
Yet Hosric didn't stop.
He continued.
Again.
And again.
Ignoring the drain.
Forcing more Qi into Rey's chest.
Inside, he finally saw it.
Two distinct poisonous energies were clashing violently.
Fire and frost.
Burning and freezing.
Trying to annihilate each other.
And between them—
A third presence.
Something else.
It wasn't attacking.
It was consuming.
Devouring both poisons indiscriminately.
Hosric's breath hitched.
'His meridians… they're damaged.
Badly.
But not broken beyond repair.
If I can confine the poison…
If I can stop it from spreading further—'
He poured more Qi in.
Carefully regulating it.
Forcing the poisons to converge around the heart.
Drawing everything there.
Fire.
Frost.
Energy.
All of it gathered in one place.
Hosric's face grew paler by the second.
His energy reserves plummeted.
Yet he refused to stop.
The third presence devoured everything that touched it.
Poison.
Qi.
Even his own energy wasn't spared.
'Is it his blood… mixed with the antidote?
Or something else entirely…'
The heart became a battlefield.
The doctors watched in stunned silence.
They didn't understand what Hosric was doing.
But they could see it.
The black veins began to fade.
The unnatural coldness in Rey's limbs slowly retreated.
Life… was pushing back.
Minutes passed.
Finally—
The poisonous energies weakened.
Fading.
Nearly gone.
Hosric eased his control, trying to sense the rest of Rey's body.
The moment his energy spread—
It was devoured again.
Completely.
His entire reserve collapsed.
Cold sweat drenched him.
'What… is that thing?
Even now… it devours everything.'
Fear gripped him.
'Is it still impossible…?'
Before he could act—
His legs gave out.
Hosric collapsed to the floor.
Despair crushed him.
He stared at Rey, vision blurring.
'How do I face her…?
I promised to protect him.
And now I'm watching him die.'
He clenched his hair in agony.
Then—
"Sir… sir!"
A doctor grabbed his arm.
"Look!"
Hosric lifted his head.
The heartbeat monitor—
Was rising.
Slowly.
Steadily.
His breath caught.
With help, he forced himself up.
Stumbling once.
Then again.
Rey's face—The deathly pallor was fading.
Colour returned.
Warmth crept back into his skin.
His breathing stabilised.
Hosric touched his arm.
No cold.
Only life.
Hope surged through him like a wave.
He was guided to a seat as doctors rushed back to Rey, administering stabilisers and recovery treatments.
Hosric's phone vibrated.
Missed calls.
Dozens.
He answered weakly.
"He… he's fine now," he said hoarsely.
The voice on the other end broke in relief.
The moment the call ended—
Hosric collapsed back into the chair, utterly exhausted.
The doctor steadied him, then took one last look at Rey before moving on.
Outside—
After a halt of nearly an hour and a half—
The tournament resumed.
But inside the medical wing—
A fate had been dragged back from the edge.