"Did I... lose? To these weaklings?" Zigrane thought, rage boiling in his chest. "Damn weaklings… I'll show you yet!"
Suddenly, a man entered the arena.
He wore a long black cloak lined with gold and walked with unnerving calm. Then, he raised his hand and called out, "Blood Magic — Forbidden Technique: Blood Subjugation!"
Instantly, Michael, Ralph, Spinner, Torren, and Rob screamed in pain as something pierced their minds. Their bodies froze, magic canceled, momentum stolen. Rob's ice sword shattered into particles. Michael's glowing hands dimmed.
"Who did this?" Michael thought.
"What's happening!?" Rob's eyes widened.
"He!? Why did he come!?" Ralph thought bitterly.
Zigrane stared at the cloaked figure. "Father? What are you doing here?!"
"Silence, you disgrace! I just saved you from complete humiliation! You were losing to weaklings! You'll be punished the moment we get home!" the man barked.
He raised a hand again. Spinner's grip on Zigrane was released, and with another flick of magic, Zigrane was forced to follow him, limbs stiff like a puppet.
Before they could leave the arena, the village elder appeared before them, placing a firm hand on the man's shoulder.
"Hold it right there, Billy. Where do you think you're going? And why did you interfere in a tournament match?" the elder asked, voice calm but sharp.
Billy Vaynran met his gaze without flinching. "What kind of father wouldn't step in to protect his son from a beating?"
"A fair one," the elder answered. "They weren't beating him — they were protecting one of the participants he was attacking."
Billy scoffed. "Isn't it your job to step in when things get out of control?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then we're done here. Come, Zigrane. We're leaving."
"Yes, Father," Zigrane muttered, still trembling from the spell.
Once they were gone, the paralysis lifted. Michael staggered.
"Who was that guy?" he asked.
"Billy Vaynran," Ralph said darkly. "Zigrane's father. He much more worse than Zigrane in every way."
"Wow… You're not as bad as I thought," Michael muttered.
Ralph turned to him, eyes sharp. "You'll never truly understand someone's past — even if they tell you everything."
The arena slowly emptied. The day's events echoed through the crowd, but one moment towered above the rest — Michael's first real display of magic.
By evening, the entire village buzzed with gossip. But one man hadn't heard yet.
Julius stood outside his bakery, waving goodbye to a customer. As he turned, Michael approached.
"Hello, Mr. Julius!" Michael called.
"Oh! Michael. Didn't see you there again," Julius said, chuckling.
"It's alright. I'm used to that."
"Come in. Tell me everything."
Inside, over cups of hot chocolate and warm croissants, Michael shared the entire story.
How he met Torren and Blitz. His crushing loss to Ralph. The viciousness of Zigrane. The unexpected help from Rob. The moment his magic finally awakened.
"Wait! You used magic?" Julius asked, eyes wide.
"Yeah! Fire magic! I finally figured it out!"
Julius laughed in disbelief. "That's incredible! You might really win this thing!"
"That's the plan," Michael grinned.
"So who's next?"
"Rob. He's strong. Uses ice magic — and he can make it explode like a bomb."
At that, Julius's expression changed.
"Exploding… ice? That's not normal. That's dangerous," Julius thought grimly.
"This could be a bigger problem than we realized…"
"Ah, Mr. Julius?" said Michael.
"What?" asked Julius.
"What you thinking about something?" Michael asked.
"Huh? Oh no, I wasn't thinking about anything right now!" Julius replied.
"Well, if that's the case, I'll head home before the sun completely sets. I need to go to bed soon," said Michael, standing up.
"Alright!" replied Julius.
"Thank you for everything, Mr. Julius!" said Michael as he walked off.
"No problem! It was nice chatting with you today," Julius replied.
The sun dipped behind the horizon, casting the village into a cool shadow. Julius moved to close up for the night when a knock came at the door.
He opened it — and found himself face to face with the village elder.
"Oh! Hello, I wasn't expecting you!" said Julius.
"It's alright, Julius. My fault for dropping by this late," the old man replied. "Got anything to drink? Doesn't matter what — just something warm."
"Yes, I'll make something right away," Julius said and moved to prepare hot chocolate.
The elder sat at a small wooden table while Julius set two cups down and joined him.
"How are things going, Julius?" the old man asked. "Don't you get tired of doing the same thing every day?"
Julius chuckled. "Not really. I love baking. Love the smiles. That's all I need."
"If it's good for you, then that's all that matters," said the elder. "But tell me — what do you think of Michael?"
Julius leaned back. "Michael? Right now? He's a good kid. I've known him for a long time. I heard he finally awakened his magic. And I also heard his next opponent uses exploding ice… Honestly, I don't know. I keep wondering — can he handle it?"
The elder set his cup down. "Have more faith in him. He'll surprise you."
Julius smiled. "You're right. Thanks for that."
"Besides," the elder continued, "he won't stay in this village forever. One day, he'll set off on his own journey."
"Set off on his way, huh?" Julius repeated, voice distant.
"Is something wrong with that?" the elder asked.
"No, not at all," Julius replied. "It just reminded me of the night I first met him."
"That night… you mean the late one?"
"Yeah. I'd just finished a long day at the bakery and went straight to bed. But in the middle of the night, I heard a knock — and a child's voice. I got up, slipped on my shoes, opened the door… and there he was. A boy, maybe seven. I asked who he was and where his parents — but he didn't answer. Just stared up at me with eyes like a demon's — bright red, with inhuman pupils. Then he muttered something like, 'Mr.… can… you…?' and collapsed."
The elder's expression turned serious.
"When he woke up, the red glow was gone. He didn't remember anything before that day — not what he did, not what he saw. Just his first and last name. That's all."
They sat in silence for a while longer.
Eventually, the elder rose. "Goodbye, Julius. Keep believing in Michael."
"Good night to you, too! I'll believe in him!" Julius replied. Then paused. "May I ask one last thing?"
"Of course."
"What's your name? I've known you for so long, and I still don't know it."
The old man chuckled softly.
"Huh? Well! My name is…"