Varnir Shadowstone’s POV.

“Daddy’s home! Daddy, did you win?!” Mila asked excitedly as she rushed us.

Kaladin chuckled with a warm smile as he picked up the giggling girl with ease, lifting her into his arms. “Yes, I sure did,” he said fondly.

I watched the exchange between father and daughter in silence as I thought back to when I first met Kaladin. Should I have said Voker? Either way, it was insane to think about the comparison between the cold and brooding man from just a year ago and the man wearing the smile of a doting father holding a child that technically wasn’t his.

Not only that, it honestly made me chuckle when I recalled the very first time he brought little starving Mila to me—cooking that stew for her and seeing how he was so worried, how he was utterly lost and had no idea what he was doing. But things began to change. I’m sure he felt that way from time to time, but now the two are an inseparable father-daughter duo. If someone had told me that this was just how things always were, I would have believed them.

Then there was today…

Sometimes, I forgot just how frightening Kaladin could be. He’s like a killer who sits around with a smile, like a friendly guy one moment, only to rip your head off the next moment. I mean, the way he overwhelmingly and brutally killed that guy from Sandervile sent chills down my spine. That guy didn’t even stand a chance, as there was no effort in Kaladin’s movements; he was so nonchalant and efficient about it all, which made it all the more terrifying. And I know I wasn’t the only person sitting in those stands who felt the same way.

And I’m no stranger to death like some of them might have been, not anymore. I still have nightmares about the Dragon attack to this day. I probably will for the rest of my life.

So, is it just an ability to adapt to things? Can people genuinely change so quickly and switch like that in a blink of an eye?

No…maybe Kaladin was always like this. Well, it doesn’t matter because he is a good person, friend, and father at heart.

Even with all that being said, I’m glad Kaladin killed that bastard. As far as I was concerned, he got everything he deserved and more. It was only an added bonus that he happened to have been a scumbag noble that harassed Kaladin when he was a slave. The only thing I regretted was I wasn’t the one that killed him in the end.

I would have done it, too. I would have killed that man if Kaladin hadn’t. I was already making plans to find him and make him pay for what he did to Tsarra—

“Varnir? Would you like to get a quick workout before lunch?” Kaladin asked, interrupting my dark thoughts.

I had been mindlessly following behind Kaladin the entire time. I didn’t even realize I had been doing that.

I nodded in agreement, “Ah…yeah, let’s do that.”

“Is something the matter?” he questioned with a hint of concern.

I waved his concerns away with a chuckle. “Nothing at all. Let’s try to get this done quickly before His Majesty sniffs us out all the way from the tournament grounds.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Kaladin chuckled in return.

—

I watched Sylas put down the heavy weight and nodded my head as I was impressed. He had managed to shoulder press just shy of his body weight with no mana enhancement. The man didn’t look like much with all his clothes on but without a shirt on…he looked surprisingly, uh…well, not big, but toned. Yeah, he was toned. And for someone who spent his days inside studying and doing whatever the things he usually did, I never expected him to be that strong.

“You must have been working out when no one was looking,” I teased.

Sylas flicked his dirty blonde hair free of sweat and, with a blank expression, told me, “Kaladin has enlightened me to some things. A minimum amount of physical activity is indeed conducive to supporting cognitive function.”

…

“Huh?”

Sylas sighed deeply. “Working out makes me feel good, so I do what is required to achieve that feeling.” Sylas gave me a sly grin. “Did that get through the muscles in your brain, Varnir?”

“Oh, it did. But say…don’t you look too good for someone who barely does anything? I thought healers were supposed to be strong mentally, not physically,” I said with a shrug.

That’s right…I’d expect someone from the bloodline of doctors to be much…smaller. No offense, but it’s just what I thought.

Sylas looked shocked at that and raised an eyebrow. “Do you expect all healers to be weak and frail old people? What happens if I need to pick a patient up? What am I going to do just tell them to get up and do it themselves?”

“No, I figured you would just order someone else to do it,” I said simply.

Sylas raised a finger to argue but stopped. “Well…you aren’t completely wrong about that. But still, it is prudent not to rely on such simple means. Maybe when I get on in years, I’ll have to do that.”

Older, huh?

“What’s it like to get old?” I wondered more to myself than him.

Sylas shrugged. “I can’t be certain as I have no experience in the matter. You and I have basically grown at the same rate and probably will for the next few years. Ask me when I turn thirty as I’m sure I will have some complaints for you then.”

“Yes! That’s the spot!”

Sylas slowly turned his head and narrowed his eyes. “I thought we were supposed to be here to work out our bodies, Padraic. Not receive a massage from a child.”

The white-haired Dwarf was sprawled out on the ground as Mila kneaded his back like a slap of dough. There was no way it felt that good as she was, well, just a child with small hands and a minimal amount of strength.

Padraic let out a hearty laugh and looked up at us with a look of superiority. “Oh, just jealous, are we? I don’t think Mila has ever offered to give either of you a massage. So don’t mind this favorite uncle getting his just treatment.”

“Favorite uncle?” Sylas repeated under his breath.

“You know…that really pisses me off for some reason,” I grumbled.

“Agreed,” Sylas said with a serious nod.

Mila threw her hands up and brought them down with a loud slap, which elicited a slight whimper from the Dwarf. “All done! You’ll make Dallin a flower?!” she shouted.

“Alright, I will, I will. A promise is a promise,” Padraic chuckled as he stood up from the ground, wiping the dust and dirt off him.

“Yes! Thank you, Uncle Paddy!” Mila said as she ran off back toward the villa.

Sylas looked at the exchange with a dark look that I matched. “Bribing a young girl for a massage…you are truly a loathsome man.”

Padraic lifted a finger, pointed it at Sylas, and barked, “Don’t look at me that way! It’s not like that, and you know it! And you are the last person to be saying that to me, mister ‘My sister is so wonderful’!”

True…that is…true. Sorry, Sylas.

“Besides, even as a child, Mila understands my immense genius to craft the finest things. I made glass for the first time the other day just because I was bored! I walked into a workshop, and they just let me do it! They even wanted me to become an apprentice!” Padraic stated proudly as he crossed his arms.

Sylas let out a huff and shook his head. “Whatever you say…”

Padraic returned the huff and looked down his nose at Sylas…well, as much as a Dwarf could, that is. “Don’t let your jealousy grow when I become a Forge Master capable of crafting the finest legendary weapons in the world fit for a legendary hero. If you ask nicely and apologize, I might make something for my future brother-in-law.”

…

“What did you just say?” Sylas said in a low tone.

There are probably many things you can say and even do to Sylas without him caring a bit…but joking around about Lin is most definitely the only thing you can not do in his presence.

Padraic just let out a laugh as he grinned. Paraic pointed a finger again, not at us this time but behind us, “Now, no need for that serious stare. As the real question of the day lies with him.”

Kaladin pushed through the last leg of his run and returned to us. He released the rope, holding two giant sacks of rocks strapped to his shoulders. The bags impacted the ground with a thud and kicked up dirt, embedding themselves as well. He untied the rope around his waist that was connected to another bag that was being dragged behind him.

Each bag weighed almost as much as I did…he is genuinely monstrous.

Kaladin wiped the sweat off his face and looked at us. “Something the matter?”

“Yeah, we want to know what happened with that invisible sword or whatever!” Padraic shouted.

I don’t think that’s what anyone cared about, really…

“Oh…well, I broke it. I honestly expected it would have been tougher, seeing as it was an A-ranked dungeon item, but it sort of just snapped and became useless. I didn’t mean to,” Kaladin said with a shrug.

“Damn, what a shame,” Padraic said as he shook his head. “Now, the real real question! Which of your girlfriends do you want to win the most tomorrow?” Padraic said with a laugh.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Kaladin immediately looked embarrassed and let out a deep sigh and scratched his head. For some reason, he was barely winded despite running around with that much weight on and behind him.

“Is it too much to ask that they don’t fight at all?” Kaladin grumbled.

“Obviously,” Padraic snorted. “You can’t expect all the hard work they put in till now to be ignored just because of you, right?”

“Agreed,” I said with a nod.

“Those two don’t appear to be on the best of terms…you don’t believe things will escalate, right?” Sylas questioned.

“I…yeah, I don’t believe it will. I don’t think they would kill each other over something like this,” Kaladin said confidently.

I’m not so sure about that…Sylvia strikes me as the stab-now-ask-maybe-later-only under-a-magistrate type of girl.

“But you didn’t answer the question, Kal. Who do you want to win?” Padraic said with a roll of his hands.

Kaladin let out a long sigh and looked up at the sky. “This is just a silly little tournament. It doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things, nor will it change much.”

“I don’t believe you should say that aloud. Many of our peers train for years to make a name for themselves here,” Sylas said.

Kaladin shrugged. “I just hope they can put aside their grievances and are safe. And whoever is the best of the two comes out on top.”

Wishful thinking? Perhaps.

I suppose we will have an answer tomorrow.

—

Cerila’s POV.

Today is the day. The day that I prove to everyone that everything I have been doing, everything I’ve been training for, all my hopes, and all my dreams aren’t meaningless.

The little girl who was a freak, who had no family, no friends, and always needed help when it got tough was greater than all those things and more. I’m tired of being a failure that just wasn’t good enough or was too late. I am finished with being a burden to those around me.

And more importantly, I’m sick of rolling over and submitting to my awful luck and fate.

I’m sure—No, I’m certain Kaladin doesn’t see it this way. Nobody probably does.

But I see it this way. This meaningless match in some tournament I don’t even remember the name of…I care about it more than anything else right now.

I know Kaladin loves her…I know he does, even if he doesn’t say it. He trusts her without hesitation; he looks up to her, and he expects great things from her.

Even if I can’t amount to that for him, I at least don’t want to be treated as something that was in the past. Of what could have been if the stars had shifted just slightly. I’m not dead, and I have no plans of withering away any time soon.

Sure, it’s not fair that he was taken from us. None of the things that happened to him or me was fair. And even though life isn’t fair, that doesn’t mean I have to accept the unfairness of it all.

After all, it was luck that brought them together the same way it brought him and me together. It was the same luck that even transported Kaladin to this world in the first place, not that his previous life changed anything. Because Kaladin was Kaladin, it was as simple as that to me, and I’m sure she felt the same way.

I can’t claim that I love him more than she does because, deep down, I know that girl would kill herself for Kaladin just like I would. But I’ve always loved Kaladin; I loved him since the day I first met him, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. Sure, it was partly because he was kind to me…because he looked past my deafness and looked at me as a person.

And maybe that was due to his previous life; that being deaf was nothing to hate someone for. Even so, it was everything else he did after that was important and is what I fell in love with. All the days he spent teaching me another language, math, reading, and writing. All the hours we spent training and playing together. And I know…I know with all my heart that he didn’t do it out of pity for me. Or because it was the right thing to do.

No, he did it because he wanted to. Because that’s who Kaladin is. Would the so-called Kronos killing machine of Kaladin’s past life do that? No. If I understood even half of the things he told me about his past, that would have been impossible.

So, is any of this fair? Is it fair that I’m taking my grievance out on this girl? No, of course it isn’t. I’m just deeply jealous of her and how lucky she is. I want everything she has and more. It’s greedy. It’s unfair. And it might even sadden Kaladin.

But like I said, I don’t care about the fairness or unfairness of it anymore. Kaladin asked me to speak to Sylvia to get along with her somewhat. I can’t lie. I haven’t tried to do that at all.

So today, I will prove to everyone that I am not the same frail, helpless, deaf girl who needs saving. I’ll take fate into my own hands, and I’ll speak to Sylvia through my actions. Because I’ve long since come to a conclusion about the second thing Kaladin asked of me.

I’ll tell her and everyone watching that I love Kaladin.

Not because he was kind to my old pitiful self. No, it’s just because he’s a strong, kind, loving man. Kaladin is a man I can put my absolute faith in, as I don’t need to question his morals. He’s the same man that makes my heart flutter every time he looks my way. The same man that makes my stomach buzz with glee just by seeing him smile.

I want to be with him. I want to stay with him.

But more importantly, I want to stand side by side with him.

—

I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at the sea of people. I could see their mouths opened and closed, their fists pumping into the air, and those edging further off their seats. A part of me wondered what it would all sound like. Would I have to cover my ears because of the noise? What were these people saying? Was it cheers of excitement or of malice? It was impossible for me to know at that distance.

I locked eyes with the referee and returned his nod to signal that I was ready. I already shared my greetings and good luck with Sylvia when we met in the center of the platform. Despite my heart yearning to hate Sylvia with all it had, I couldn’t bring myself to do so.

Just because I denounced the unfairness or fairness of life and that I wanted to prove myself didn’t mean I had to be vindictive and spiteful toward her.

I gripped Hubris tightly and recalled the king’s teachings. I was here to fight because I had a purpose to fight for. The battle would not be easy. I would have to leave everything I have on this stone platform from the start to beat the granddaughter of one of the most powerful men ever to exist.

The referee raised his hand and let it drop, signaling the start of the fight. I formed the spell cores and launched a dozen or so spears of ice at her as I enhanced my body to its limits. As I sprinted at full speed toward her to close the distance. I launched another barrage of magic as the center of the arena passed me by.

Of course, I wasn’t the only one attempting to do the same thing. Sylvia sliced down my magic and sprinted toward me with immense speed. When our swords collided, I could feel the impact in my teeth.

Regardless, we began exchanging blows. Hubris felt light in my hands, and I was glad to be rid of any other weapon. It was the sword I practiced with the most and felt the most comfortable using. Its weight, shape, and form all felt perfect for me. I drilled with it for what must have been thousands of hours at that point.

Sylvia gritted her teeth as I parried her thrust to the side and nearly landed a strike on her arm, which she dodged. Sylvia was an incredibly agile swordswoman who had strength that rivaled mine. But I was confident I was the better swordswoman even if she had improved since fighting Mom. After all, I had more training and experience in the first place, and I never stopped, even going as far as sparring against the king of Luminar and his troops as well as Grandpa.

I will not be bested in a competition of blades.

Sylvia swung her sword, and I brought up mine to block it. We continued to trade blows for some time as I began to grasp her technique and tendencies. My plan was simple. Avoid being hit even once, as nothing mattered if she cut me. Dismantle her swordplay and render it useless, maybe even disarm her entirely if possible. Then, crush her with a combination of blade and magic.

Sylvia’s blood-red eyes met mine, and I could see the frustration building on her face. She thrust again, this time a little more wildly and with more power. I blocked it, and my wrists buckled slightly, and my fingers went numb from the powerful impact. Sylvia was unbelievably strong. She was at least as strong as the king.

But what was more terrifying was the blindingly fast kick she sent my way. All it took was one good look to understand that that small leg of hers would break my bones if it reached me. Unfortunately for her, it would not.

Instead of meeting it head-on with a block, I dodged it just out of range and put my hand out. A freezing wind exploded forth, enveloping Sylvia’s leg in a block of ice. Her landing was awkward and stilted, and I took the opportunity to strike at her sword hand, fully planning on cutting it off or, at the very least, forcing her to drop her weapon.

However, to my surprise, Sylvia simply ignored her leg, and I watched as her limbs pulsed and flexed with power, even going so far as to break herself free of the ice with sheer power. She blocked my downward strike with her sword in one hand, and I realized too late that I had been baited into her trap.

I brought my knee up and managed a weak deflection of her incoming fist that still hit me in the side. I groaned slightly and retreated as I looked down at the bent armor plate. It was almost entirely crushed, which just went to show that if I had been hit…I would have had my ribs crushed against my spine.

Such strength…where does it even come from? Is this the strength of the Talgan bloodline?

Either way…that was too close. Perhaps I’ll need to take another approach.

After watching Sylvia’s match against Varnir, I understood that simply sending magic her way would be a fruitless endeavor. Sylvia could heal from nearly every wound, and her ability to do so seemed infinite. Or at least there was no way for me to tell when she was at her limit. Her stamina also seemed boundless, which meant I couldn’t reliably face her in a battle of attrition. She was the definition of a troublesome opponent.

Slyiva licked her lips as she shook her leg free of the remaining frost. She appeared somewhat pleased with landing a blow on me, but the determination in her blood-red eyes and stance did not waver. She was taking this seriously for her own reasons.

Let’s try this.

I extended Hubris and channeled my magic through the Holy Artifact. A burst of blue frost exploded like a snowstorm and covered half the arena in a glacial freeze. It was a wide-range attack that I used against hordes of weak monsters, but it would have to be the start of my new plan. After all, there was no way it would be enough to stop Sylvia.

I barraged Sylvia’s last known location with spears and chunks of ice. It didn’t matter if 90% of them missed. I just needed to hit her a few times and scatter my magic across the platform. I wanted to change the landscape of the battlefield in my favor.

I leaped into the air and directly into the center of the icy field. I controlled the magic beneath me so as not to slip, and a moment later, Sylvia broke out from the enormous ice wall encasing her, barely damaged, almost like it was made of paper. She dropped down onto the ice and sprinted toward me, which baffled me.

The ice was slippery and should have been a movement hazard, but—is…are there red spikes underneath her boots? Where did those come from?

She had gotten even faster, and her sword was nearly upon me. But as she approached, the icy ground below her warped up suddenly via my command, breaking her stride. I put mana into another spell core, and a large pillar of ice burst from the ground, hitting Sylvia and forcing her into the air.

It didn’t matter how fast or strong she was if she was in mid-air. I sent a large spear of ice through Hubris at her front, which she managed to kick even in mid-air. But it was the one behind her that she couldn’t block.

To her credit, she did notice it. Perhaps she heard the fast-moving lance of ice coming toward her, but she was helpless against it. The smaller and faster-moving ice spell hit her directly in the back of the thigh. Red blood spilled out and around her in a pink mist, and I was below her, ready to try and cut at her sword arm again.

Yet… at that moment, as I looked up at her, seeing her angry face and the blood splattering onto my sword, something happened. I blinked and…I was somewhere else.

I blinked again and wiped my eyes, but no matter what I did, the hallucination did not vanish. And it had to be a hallucination because how else would I have ended up in front of these two intricate and massive golden doors?

I looked around and was just on a single platform in a sea of endless blue sky. I peeked over the edge, and it was the same endless blue sky. The stadium, the fight with Sylvia, everyone, and everything was gone. It was just me, the platform, and the double golden doors.

That was the first meaningful blow of the fight…I…I wanted to keep going, as that was hardly enough. But…

I checked my head for wounds and forced mana into my body, but I felt nothing out of the ordinary. I gave the air a long sniff, but once again, nothing at all, not even the smell of a fresh breeze, a single plant, or an animal. It was like I had been whisked away and appeared in this place.

Where am I?