[FINALS DAY - 8:47 AM]
Alex hadn't slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the golden dragon. Aurum. Level 57. The solar flames that had vaporized Emily's unicorn in under three minutes. The pure, raw, overwhelming power that Marcus had shown without even trying.
And tomorrow—well, today now—he would have to face that.
He sat on the edge of his bed, watching the sunrise through his hotel room window. Central City was waking up, but he could already feel the electric energy in the air. Today was the day. The day everyone had been waiting for.
The Ghost Hunter versus the Golden Son.
The Necromancer versus the Dragon.
The Expelled versus the Prodigy.
His phone had been exploding since 6 AM with messages:
Viktor: "Today's the day. Remember—Awakened Form if necessary. Fuck the consequences."
Raven: "Good morning, sweetheart~ Last chance for that poison? No? Okay. Kick dragon ass then. ?"
Maya: "I know you probably didn't sleep. Eat a proper breakfast. Your body needs energy. Good luck. - M"
Emily: "I'll be in the stands. Watching. Believing in you. No matter what happens. - E"
Seraph: "The whole world is watching today. Show them why the Gods feared the Reaper. - S"
And one that surprised him—from Valeria:
Valeria: "Father Augustin has the arrest warrant ready. But there's a 24-hour grace period after the finals for 'administrative processing.' Win first. Worry about arrest after. - V"
Alex pocketed the phone, looking at Grim who was sitting in his usual spot on the windowsill. The skeleton was in 80-centimeter form, but the red lights in his sockets glowed brighter than usual.
"Nervous?" Alex asked.
Grim turned his skull toward him, tilting it.
You?
"Terrified," Alex admitted. "Absolutely terrified. Marcus is level 57. His dragon is fully awakened. Every numerical advantage is on his side."
Grim slid off the windowsill, walked to Alex, grew to a meter and a half.
"Numbers. Aren't. Everything."
"Numbers matter quite a bit in combat—"
"Marcus. Arrogant. Underestimates. Us. That's. Weakness."
Alex considered this. Grim was right. Marcus had spent every tournament match dominating effortlessly. Not once had he been pushed. Not once had he actually had to adapt.
"So we make him adapt," Alex murmured. "We make the fight pattern unpredictable. Force him to react instead of dictate."
"Exactly."
"But that requires... that requires revealing everything. Awakened Form. Maximum power. No more pretending."
"Yes."
"And the Temple will arrest us."
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"After. Winning."
Alex breathed deeply. "Alright. Then that's what we do. All or nothing."
He stood, beginning to prepare for the most important day of his life.
---
[STADIUM LOCKER ROOM - 10:17 AM]
The locker room assigned to Alex was surprisingly luxurious—apparently finalists got upgraded facilities. Proper shower, full-body mirror, even a small fridge with sports drinks and high-energy snacks.
Alex showered, dressed in clean clothes (they'd provided tournament uniform—simple but professional, black with silver accents), and then began the process of serious preparation.
First: inventory.
He emptied everything onto the table, cataloging:
Current Equipment:
· Rank Concealment Ring (equipped but will be removed—no point hiding anymore)
· Soul Dominion Necklace (equipped, hidden under uniform)
· Guild Limitation Collar (equipped but needs to be "slept")
· 4 health potions (military grade—best he could afford)
· 2 mana potions (military grade)
· 3 emergency mana crystals (can be absorbed in combat for instant 100 MP boost each)
· Combat knife (more symbolic than useful at this point)
Second: the Limitation Collar.
This was the collar the judges had placed on him after his mass necromancy use. It suppressed 30% of his MP output and limited reanimations to five simultaneous.
For the finals, he needed it disabled.
He pulled out a small vial Raven had given him—dark red liquid that smelled of copper and something else... herbal.
[Seal Suppression Potion]
Effect: Puts minor magical seals to sleep for 6 hours
Warning: Leaves detectable residue. Use will eventually be discovered.
Cost: 5,000 crowns (gift from Raven)
"Eventually doesn't matter if it's after I win," Alex murmured.
He drank the potion. It tasted horrible—like licking a battery while chewing bitter grass.
Immediately he felt the change. The Limitation Collar around his neck felt... dormant. Still physically there, but its magical effect suppressed.
[Limitation Collar: SLEEPING for 6 hours]
[MP restriction removed]
[Reanimation limit removed]
Third: decision on the Rank Concealment Ring.
This ring had been hiding Grim's true power for weeks. It made Grim appear as E-Rank when he was actually... well, unclassifiable really, considering he was a Reaper Fragment.
For the finals, the ring was useless. Everyone already knew Grim was far stronger than scans suggested.
Alex removed it, pocketed it.
Goodbye, pretense. It was good while it lasted.
Fourth: mental preparation.
He stood before the full-body mirror, studying his reflection.
Nineteen years old. Orphan. Expelled. Necromancer. Bearer of Reaper Fragment 1.
"Three months ago," he said aloud, "I was living in a shitty 400-crown-a-month apartment, working at a morgue, wondering if I'd survive the week."
He looked himself in the eyes.
"Now I'm one fight away from winning the Novice Tournament. From defeating the golden son of the Celestial Academy. From gaining access to Fragment 3."
Pause.
"How the hell did I get here?"
"Surviving," Grim said, now standing beside him in meter-and-a-half form. "Always. Surviving."
"Yeah." Alex smiled—small, bitter, but real. "I guess so."
He looked at Grim in the mirror. The skeleton looked different somehow. More... solid. As if the last weeks of constant combat had refined his form.
"Today we use Awakened Form from the start," Alex said. "No warm-up. No probing. We hit with everything immediately."
"Risky. Marcus. Will see. Full power."
"Good. I want him to see it. I want him to know exactly what he's facing. Because arrogance is his weakness. If he thinks he can dominate me like he did everyone else..."
Alex smiled—this time, not bitter. Predatory.
"Then he's already lost."
---
[FLASHBACK - CELESTIAL ACADEMY - THREE YEARS AGO]
Alex's mind wandered as he prepared, unsolicited memories bubbling up...
Summoning Theory Class, Second Year.
Alex sat in the back row—where he always sat, trying to be invisible.
Master Vance was lecturing on "Companion Roles in Team Composition."
"S-Rank companions," Vance had said, "are extremely rare. Only about 1 in 10,000 summoners ever bonds one. But those who do..." He smiled, looking directly at Marcus Steele sitting in the front row. "...are destined for greatness."
Marcus had smiled, his golden dragon (then only the size of a large cat) purring in his lap.
"Of course," Vance had continued, "not everyone can be so fortunate. Some of you will bond mediocre companions. C-Rank. D-Rank." Pause. "Some, regrettably, may even bond something completely useless."
His eyes had swept over Alex—just for a second, but it was enough.
Snickers from other students.
Alex had sunk lower in his seat, cheeks burning.
---
Cafeteria, Same Year.
Alex had been carrying his tray, looking for an empty table. As always.
Marcus and his group had been sitting at the "premium" table—the one with the best view, best lighting, where all the popular students congregated.
As he passed, Alex had accidentally tripped (damn uneven floor), his tray tilting.
A single drop of soup had splashed onto the table near Marcus.
"Hey," Marcus had said, voice loud, drawing attention. "Did you just get shit on our table?"
"I... sorry, it was an accident—"
"Accident." Marcus had pronounced the word like it was something disgusting. "Do you know how much this shirt costs? Do you have any idea how much tuition costs here? And you—a full-ride charity case—can't even walk properly without making a mess."
He'd pointed at the floor beside the table.
"Clean it up. Now."
"There's nothing to cle—"
"CLEAN. IT. UP."
Alex had looked at the "mess"—literally a single pea-sized drop—and then back at Marcus.
And he'd knelt down.
He'd cleaned the non-existent stain with a napkin while the whole cafeteria watched.
Marcus had laughed. Others had joined in.
Emily Chen had been there that day. She'd watched. She'd seen.
And she'd said nothing.
---
Expulsion Day, Three Months Ago.
Alex had been packing his dorm room, stuffing his meager belongings into a worn backpack.
Marcus had "casually" passed by, his dragon (now the size of a large dog) following.
"Heard you got expelled," Marcus had said, leaning against the doorframe. "F-Rank. How embarrassing."
"Go away, Marcus."
"Or what? Your pathetic skeleton will fight my dragon?" He'd laughed. "Please. Aurum could vaporize that thing without even trying."
He'd pushed off the doorframe, walking toward his own dorm room (three times larger than Alex's, of course).
"Move along, nobody," he'd called over his shoulder. "Some of us have a future here."
---
[Present - Locker Room]
Alex blinked, returning to the now.
His hands had clenched into fists, knuckles white.
"Every time," he murmured, "every single time, he treated me like garbage. Like I was nothing. Like I wasn't worth anything."
He looked at Grim.
"Today, we prove him wrong."
"Today. We repay. Every. Humiliation."
"Exactly."
---
[ENTRANCE TUNNEL - 11:47 AM]
Alex stood in the tunnel waiting for the signal to enter. He could hear the crowd's roar even through the thick concrete walls.
50,000 people.
Millions more watching the live broadcast.
Everyone watching.
His phone vibrated one last time. Message from a number he didn't recognize:
"The future of the Fragments is decided today. Do not fail. - The Seven watch you."
Alex frowned. The Seven? The Ancient Gods?
Didn't matter. Not now.
He pocketed the phone, turned to Grim.
"Awakened Form. Now. Before we even step out."
Grim nodded.
[Transformation: Latent → Awakened]
[MP Cost: 150 from Grim's pool]
The change was instantaneous and dramatic.
