He was halfway down the corridor when he spotted the medics waiting for him in front of the preparation room door. Their eyes widened the moment they saw him: blood-soaked and unsteady with clothes cut open in half a dozen places.

  They rushed toward him at once, their hands steady but their expressions tight with concern. One of them pressed a glass vial into his palm while the others cleaned wounds and wound fresh bandages over torn skin.

  Kael blinked at them, confused by the tension on their faces. "What's wrong?" he asked. The potion was already dulling the pain; warmth pulsed through his arms and legs.

  The medic beside him exhaled sharply. "We only applied first aid. Continuing to fight would be unwise. You should go straight to the infirmary and rest.”

  Kael frowned. "But I feel fine. The potion and your treatment should be enough, shouldn't they?"

  The medic shook his head firmly. "No, the potion only suppresses the pain. It doesn't heal the actual injuries without time. You’re only standing because the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet. If you push your body any further, it will give out during the next match.”

  Kael met the medic’s serious gaze. For a moment, he hesitated. Then he shook his head.

  "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice sincere despite the exhaustion dragging at him. "But I won't withdraw. I’m too close now to stop.”

  The medics exchanged glances. They could insist and force a withdrawal if necessary, but something in his eyes stopped them. The deep violet of his irises burned with resolve, a stubborn, unyielding persistence that made it clear he wouldn’t back down, no matter what they said.

  Finally, they stepped aside.

  Kael rose carefully to his feet, nodded gratefully to each of them, and turned toward the door. He paused and inhaled slowly and steadily, bracing himself, then reached for the handle and pushed it open.

  All eyes turned toward him at once. Surprise rippled through the room like a sudden gust of wind. Even Professor Jade and Instructor Turin, who were usually masters of composure, couldn’t fully hide their shock at seeing him. Only Liam remained unchanged, his smile stretching into a slow, knowing grin.

  Kael paused in the doorway. He met Liam’s gaze, letting the message settle between them like a drawn blade in silence:

  You will not break me.

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  Then, ignoring the stares that trailed over every fresh bandage and bloodstain seeping through the fabric of his uniform, he looked away. He walked to his usual spot, lowered himself carefully, and breathed through the throbbing pain under his ribs. Instead of pain, he focused on strategy, the second round, the path ahead, and what he could still control.

  Across the room, Cassandra stared at him. She couldn’t look away. Even though she hadn’t forgiven him—couldn’t yet—his condition jolted something inside her. A quiet, unwelcome tug. It was a knot of concern she wished she didn’t feel.

  Kael heard footsteps approaching and lifted his head.

  Professor Jade stood before him.

  “Student Kael,” she said, her voice firm despite the worry flickering in her eyes. “I do not believe you are fit to continue in this competition. A piece of well-meant advice: withdraw and rest.”

  The softness in her voice startled him. He had never heard her speak to him like that before.

  He looked up at her, silent. After a moment, he simply said, "I can't," and let his gaze fall again, sinking back into his thoughts.

  Professor Jade stood her ground. For a moment, compassion softened her features. Then it vanished, replaced by her usual composed expression. "Very well," she answered quietly and returned to her place.

  Kael did not move. Around him, he could hear whispers circling like insects.

  "How did he win against Taro? That’s impossible,” Serena murmured to the girl beside her.

  "Apparently, Taro surrendered after he beat Kael one-sidedly," Mina replied in a hushed tone.

  “What?” Serena's voice lifted. “Where did you hear that?”

  Mina didn’t get to finish. A sharp voice sliced through the room.

  “Silence! Mina, Serena, it's your turn." Professor Jade’s tone brooked no argument. "This is the final fight of the second round. Afterward, there will be a brief break before the final match. Fight well.”

  The two girls rose and cast one last curious and almost unsettled glance toward Kael before disappearing through the door.

  Kael did not look at them. His focus was elsewhere.

  His cold, sharp, unblinking eyes were fixed on the back of Liam Blackhelm.

  So that’s your plan, Kael thought. Humiliate me in front of everyone. Paint me as someone who didn’t earn this win. And then break me with your own hands.

  A slow, burning anger tightened inside his chest.

  I don't care anymore, he thought, the words darker than anything he'd ever admitted to himself. Fuck the private tutoring. Fuck the top three.

  I just want to defeat that bastard.

  Rationality slipped from his grasp, burned away by something raw and jagged that he hadn’t known lived inside him until now.

  Cassandra noticed it instantly.

  The shift in his posture. The coldness in his eyes. The way his emotions twisted into something darker.

  She hadn't let him out of her sight since he entered the room covered in wounds. Her earlier shock had faded, replaced by a quiet, steady worry she couldn’t hide.

  After a few minutes, the door opened. Serena stepped inside, her expression bright with triumph and pride. She carried herself like someone who had earned her victory.

  Professor Jade acknowledged her with a curt nod before turning to the remaining students.

  "You will have one hour of rest," she announced, her voice carrying effortlessly through the room. "Return here before the break ends. Anyone who is even a minute late will be disqualified from the final round. Understood?"

  A unified nod answered her.

  "Good." Without another glance, she left her room. The door closed behind her, leaving the contestants in a tense, uneasy silence.