Coming to no conclusion, I decided to rest and preserve my strength.
I was still tired because I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before as I waited for my number to be called.
The bath had made me drowsy as well.
So I closed my eyes.
And waited for sleep to arrive.
But strangely—
Sleep didn't come.
My eyes were closed.
My thoughts empty.
But I couldn't fall asleep.
Minutes passed.
Maybe even an hour.
Still—
Nothing.
I didn't dare to open my eyes since that would make me lose my sleep progress.
If that even existed.
Step.
Step.
Footsteps echoed. Guards passed my cell.
Haah.
My breath was steady.
Slow.
Calm.
Time stretched.
Eventually—
Sleep finally claimed me.
***
The first thing I saw when I woke up was empty beds.
Usually, I could estimate the time by when the others returned from the arena.
But now—
I was alone.
I didn't know when the fights would start.
For a moment, I considered going to the arena to check.
But I decided against it.
It didn't matter.
Knowing wouldn't change anything.
I could do nothing besides waiting.
My body felt a bit better after sleeping.
I sat up and leaned against the wall behind the bed, stretching my legs out over the mattress, letting them dangle in the air.
As always—
There was nothing else to do but train.
I rebuilt the mana lines, which had broken down during my sleep, and pushed bursts of mana through them while lifting my arms and legs.
The feeling of mana spreading through my limbs was already familiar.
It was still far away from just using my thoughts, but it at least became easier.
The constant training showed its fruits.
I still had to actively focus and think to enhance my limbs, but it felt less foreign.
As if I were slowly adapting to this new world.
Still, I wasn't anywhere near my goal—using mana without thought.
The idea for it came when I used mana for the first time.
This surreal force....
What if I could use it just like my hands?
Without thought.
Just because I willed it.
It was really strange if you thought about it.
Our legs and arms.
Do we actively think when we use them?
Not really.
Nobody goes through the process of walking.
Lifting a leg then placing it on the ground. Then lifting the other, and so on.
We just do it.
It was as if they functioned automatically.
And I wanted to achieve the same thing with mana.
Shifting your focus during battle, even if it was just for a moment, could determine who wins or loses.
A small delay in your movement could create a gap, an opportunity to counter.
So what I needed to master wasn't really mana control.
I had to familiarize myself with mana until it became as natural to me as breathing or walking.
That was why I trained.
Time slipped by, unnoticed, while I trained.
My focus broke as—
Click.
The cell door opened.
My head turned toward the sound.
A guard was already standing at the threshold, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.
A pair of canines peeked through as he spoke.
"29. Follow me."
I climbed down carefully.
A thin string of pain shot through my back as I moved, but it wasn't as strong as before.
I could push through it.
My feet landed softly on the ground, and I walked toward him.
He turned as soon as I closed the distance and led the way down the corridor.
Step.
The corridor felt longer than usual.
Step.
At least by hundreds of meters.
Step.
Or perhaps it was just my mind.
Step.
Each step echoed heavier than it should.
Step.
The uneasiness in my chest grew with each step.
As soon as we reached the hall—
I saw them.
There, in front of the gate, stood a group of teens, waiting.
I counted silently in my mind as we drew closer.
'Nine.'
With me—
Ten.
Every remaining teen stood there.
My eyes widened at the realization.
The guard nudged me forward, and I walked toward them, halting a few steps away.
The guard stepped back and joined the other guards who stood behind us.
No one spoke.
The silence was suffocating.
Minutes passed as we waited in front of the gate.
Then—
Thud.
The massive doors moved, opening.
Screech.
Metal scraped against stone as light flooded the hall.
Thud.
The gate had opened completely and snapped into place against the walls.
One by one, the teens stepped inside.
I followed.
Step.
The light was bright enough to blind me for a moment.
White swallowed everything—
Then color returned.
Grains of sand shifted beneath my feet as I walked.
Step.
I halted beside the weapon rack, my eyes drifting across the arena.
The same circle of sand stretched before me.
But today—
It felt…larger.
Everything.
The stone walls stretched higher, towering over us.
The rows of benches seemed...endless.
They were full.
Not a single empty seat.
The crowd filled the stands. It was like an ocean of colors.
Huge banners decorated the walls, gently swaying as the gate opened.
The roar of the crowd rolled over us like a tidal wave.
Everything looked bigger than usual.
It felt like we were ants.
And I remembered—
What we were.
Entertainment.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Our death was worth no more than the coins they bet on us.
I turned away as I had watched enough, and walked along the weapon rack, letting my fingers brush over their hilts and grips.
The other teens had already picked their weapons and headed for the center.
I let my hand linger over the pommel of the longsword before I reached for a plain-looking short sword beside it.
My fingers circled its grip.
The worn leather strip was loose.
Shing.
I pulled it free and drove it into the ground.
Thud.
My hands moved quickly, tying the leather strip tighter.
Satisfied, I pulled it out and lifted it over my shoulder before walking toward the center of the arena.
The other teens were already there.
Some had formed pairs, and there was even a trio. The rest stood scattered across the center.
Everyone was tense.
They examined each other nervously, tightening their grips on their weapons.
My eyes moved as well, drifting from teen to teen, glancing at their weapons.
Two held spears.
The other seven used swords.
The spear users were the most dangerous ones.
They would know how to use them if they survived until now.
I carefully shifted my feet as I walked, moving further away from them before stopping.
I lifted the sword off my shoulder and into position while casting another glance at the teens.
Or rather, at the numbers stitched across their shirts.
[2]
[67]
[16]
[9]
[13]
[70]
[25]
[51]
[7]
My gaze shifted after looking at the last number, toward the podium.
The pale white platform was empty.
John wasn't here yet.
Two guards stood behind the platform, waiting by the door.
Then—
They moved, gripping the handles, and pulled the doors open.
Thud.
The doors opened wide, and a silhouette appeared.
Step.
His steps echoed across the arena as he emerged, drowning the crowd's roars.
He wore the same crimson suit that covered his entire body.
The same white mask with a painted smile.
Through the slits in his mask, a pair of crimson eyes stared down at us.
Step.
John walked forward with measured steps.
Step.
His steps halted as he reached the podium.
He pressed one hand against his chest while the other shifted behind his back as he bowed toward us—spine straight, posture perfect.
A noble's gesture.
It wasn't out of respect.
But just another theatric of his.
He straightened again and placed both hands on the podium.
"My dear guests! Today, we celebrate something special!"
A pause.
"Our young lambs' survival!"
He gestured with one hand toward us.
"They have fought valiantly! Battles after battles! Day after day!" His voice rose, "And now, they stand before you, as the final survivors of this first season's Blooding!"
He paused.
"And no—they are not merely survivors!"
He raised his hand and clenched it into a fist.
"They are young warriors!"
The crowd roared, cheering.
John raised his palm again, silencing the crowd before continuing.
"This was the first Blooding our Colosseum ever held! And they are the first young warriors shaped by our trials!"
He spread his arms wide.
"Aren't they magnificent! Young lambs have turned into bloodthirsty wolves! And you, my dear guests, are the same as me, observers! Is it not beautiful? To see and be a part of their journey!"
His gaze lowered toward us again.
"Maybe one day they will even become well-known warriors throughout the whole of Terros, and you, my dear guests, were there as they clawed their way up!"
Clap.
Suddenly, John started to clap his hands in a slow rhythm.
"We need to show our gratitude and applaud the young warriors for the joy they have brought us!"
The applause began.
Clap.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A wave of applause spread across the arena, growing louder with each second.
John raised his hand, silencing them again.
"But before we close this Blooding—"
His voice lowered.
"There is one last trial our young warriors have to face!"
The air tightened, it felt suffocating.
"To become wolves…"
He extended his hands outward—
Thud.
Thud.
—and the gates opened.
Not the one we had entered through.
But the ones left and right of us.
The gates that had stayed shut throughout all the time I had been here.
"…you must face them first."