The noise of the colosseum surged around them again, drowning out the stillness that had lingered between Kieran and Aarti. She disappeared into the crowd with Graham, her back straight but her steps quick, as though she couldn't trust herself to linger.
The four boys stood in silence for a moment.
Tanaka was the first to break it. "… Okay, what the hell was that? Who was that girl?"
Roy glanced sideways at Kieran, arms loosely crossed. "Yeah. You froze up back there. You two look weirdly similar to me."
Brock leaned in, smirking despite the tension. "Don't tell me she's your girlfriend. Would explain the dramatic pause."
Kieran didn't rise to the bait this time. He let out a long breath, his eyes still fixed on the place she'd vanished from. "Well, I think … She's my sister."
The words hit the group like a stone dropped in still water.
"Your… sister?" Tanaka asked, brows shooting up. "Since when do you have a sister?"
"Since I was born." Kieran's voice was quiet, defensive. "I just… never mentioned her because I didn't think it mattered."
Tanaka stared at him, surprised. "Didn't think it mattered? Dude, that's family. You've never brought up anything about them. Not once."
Kieran's jaw tightened. He shoved his hands into his pockets and muttered, "…It's complicated."
Roy studied him in silence, catching the slight crack in Kieran's usual composure. He wasn't one to pry, but it was clear this reunion had shaken him. Brock, sensing the heaviness, raised his brows but kept quiet for once.
Before the moment could stretch further, a thunderous voice boomed through the arena.
"WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, TO THE MAIN TOURNAMENT OF RICHT!"
The crowd erupted, tens of thousands roaring in unison. The announcer's voice carried, amplified by glowing constructs floating above the colosseum.
"THIS TOURNAMENT IS NOT JUST A CONTEST. IT IS HISTORY BEING MADE! FIRST DISCOVERED TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO BY THE ONE WHO WAS DECLARED THE STRONGEST TO EVER LIVE. IT WAS DECLARED A GATHERING TO TEST THE STRONGEST OF OUR AGE! AND EVERY YEAR WE HONOUR THAT LEGACY THAT WE CARRY ON EVERY YEAR!"
The ground seemed to vibrate beneath their feet as the crowd cheered louder. Flags waved, horns blared, and bursts of prana flared in the air like fireworks.
"THIS IS YOUR CHANCE, CONTESTANTS! YOUR MOMENT FOR GLORY! MANY OF YOU WILL FAIL, BUT THE ONE WHO RISES WILL HAVE A PATH OPENED TO GLORY ITSELF!"
Roy winced at the volume, rubbing his ear. "This hurts."
"Come on," Kieran said, forcing himself back into the present. "Let's sit. That matches are about to start."
They found their reserved seats, squeezed among countless others in the roaring stadium. The first-round fighters entered the arena, the stage shimmering as it shifted into a rocky canyon. The crowd leaned forward in unison, anticipation thick in the air.
Roy, however, felt his stomach growl. He sighed, leaning back. "Of course. Out of all times."
Tanaka gave him a flat look. "Don't tell me you're ditching the first round for snacks."
Roy stood anyway, stretching. "What can I say? Hunger doesn't give a flying fuck about history being made."
He wove his way through the crowd, eventually reaching a vendor and trading a few coins for skewered meat dripping with sauce. By the time he returned, the cheers were already shaking the colosseum.
And his seat… was gone.
A woman sat there now, her posture relaxed but commanding. Her long hair caught the sunlight, and though she wasn't dressed extravagantly, there was an aura about her that screamed authority. People in the nearby rows kept sneaking glances at her, whispering.
Roy blinked. "Uh… Excuse me… That's my seat."
She turned her head slowly toward him, her eyes calm, sharp and oddly amused that a guy would question her. "Was it? Well, it looks more like mine now."
The attitude of this BITCH.
Roy frowned, shifting his food awkwardly in one hand. The stadium was packed shoulder-to-shoulder, with nowhere to squeeze back in. With a sigh of defeat, he muttered, "Fine. Whatever. Enjoy it."
He drifted down a few rows until he found an empty seat next to another woman. She sat casually, chin resting on her hand, eyes fixed on the arena. Her presence was weirdly strange and quiet, and yet undeniably heavy. Something about her made him pause before sitting.
Still, he lowered himself into the seat with a muttered, "Finally."
The woman didn't turn. She simply tilted her head slightly, then sniffed the air. Once. Twice.
Roy froze mid-bite, slowly turning his gaze to stare at her. "…Are you sniffing me?"
The woman's lips curved into a faint, amused smile. "Hmm. Interesting."
Roy leaned back in alarm, clutching his food like a shield. "Okay, seriously, what the fuck was that? Don't just go smelling strangers like that! Do you not understand personal space?"
Finally, she turned her head. Their eyes met. Deep, steady, unflinching. There was a strange weight in her gaze, like she could peel him apart layer by layer without saying a word.
"You smell… familiar."
Roy blinked, deadpan. "…Familiar? Do I look like a food stall to you, woman?"
The woman chuckled softly, the sound almost melodic, almost inhumanly calm.
"Not skewers." She leaned in the faintest bit closer, her eyes narrowing with quiet amusement. "Mango."
Roy stared at her. "…Mango."
"Yes."
He gave her a long, sceptical look, hugging his food tighter than before. "…Right. And who are you to sniff me?"
Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Solace."
Roy nearly choked on his bite, coughing into his sleeve. "…Who?"
A spectator sitting just behind them overheard and burst out laughing. "Wait, you've never heard of Solace?"
Roy turned back with his trademark flat, unimpressed stare. He then thought to himself, Of course I know who that person is; I just found out a week or two ago.
The spectator grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Solace. The Goddess of War. The Hundred Breath Executioner. She ended the Battle of Scarlet Valley alone. No army, no backup. Just walked in and ended a war. Some say she's not even human."
A second spectator leaned in, adding in hushed reverence with hand gestures, "But no one has ever seen what she looks like. She's just a shadowless name."
Roy turned back toward her slowly, eyes narrowing. "…And I'm conveniently sitting here next to her, sniffing me?"
Solace's smile didn't fade. If anything, it deepened as she shrugged. "I was curious."
Roy slumped back in his seat with a long sigh. "…Yeah, well, curiosity's overrated anyway."
But even as he muttered, his eyes lingered on her, caught between irritation, disbelief, and the nagging suspicion that this woman wasn't someone he should take lightly.
Solace, with her legs crossed, rested her chin lightly on her hand, her eyes still fixed on Roy. "Not everyone knows what I look like. But my name… travels."
Her voice was calm and matter-of-fact, as if she were simply stating the weather.
The people sitting a row behind leaned closer, scoffing.
"Yeah, right. The Goddess of War doesn't just show up at the tournament and sit in the nosebleeds."
"She's probably just messing with you, kid."
Roy nodded quickly, grateful for the backup. "Exactly. Thank you. See? Someone with an overblown wrestling name like that wouldn't be sitting here sniffing my lunch. It's ridiculous."
He leaned back, muttering under his breath, "What's the likelihood of the actual Solace sitting next to me, huh? About the same as Brock going a day without making a stupid comment."
The spectators behind him chuckled, shaking their heads. To them, the matter was settled. Just some eccentric woman playing games.
But when Roy glanced back at her, Solace hadn't even blinked. Her smile was faint, but her eyes, those steady and unreadable eyes, didn't waver.
Her prana doesn't look massive either, as Roy looked at her prana output.
Prana is living essence, so every second that every living thing is giving off prana, that amount of prana that is radiated implies the amount of prana their gate holds.
"Perhaps you're right," she said lightly. "The likelihood is low."