Daylan and Astara barely had a chance to discuss their duels, as Astara needed rest to recover her eyes. Daylan trained alone for a while, pushing himself to his limits, but eventually forced himself to sleep, trying to quiet the overactive thoughts racing through his mind.
The sun rose quickly from the East, signaling the start of a new day. Daylan prepared for the tournament and rushed to the library to check on Astara, but she wasn't there. With no time to waste, he made his way to the training center. There, he found her, training relentlessly. As soon as Daylan entered, he leaned against the wall, mesmerized by Astara's unwavering passion.
The moment she noticed Daylan, she paused. "Hey, you are ready." She grabbed her shirt. "Let's go, Day."
Daylan smiled, watching her walk past him, her expression masked with seriousness. He followed suit.
"The tournament ends tomorrow. I guess you already know that."
Daylan gave a firm nod.
"Do your best to win today, because I won't be losing."
Daylan remained silent, tossing his dagger back and forth.
More than half of the Chivalries won their duels and qualified for the next round.
However, those who failed were still required to remain at the tournament, their presence lingering as a reminder of their defeat.
At the vanguard of the monastery, their carriages awaited their arrival. Astara barely spoke a word on the way to the arena, much like the day before. It seemed as though something was troubling her. Daylan resisted the urge to press her about it—he could tell it was something she wasn't ready to share.
As soon as they arrived, Zari rushed to Daylan and wrapped him in a hug. She and Medora had been waiting for him, as he hadn't had the chance to meet her the previous day. Astara lingered nearby for a moment, offering a faint smile, before finally heading to her seat.
Daylan and Zari's time together was brief, as the tournament began before they knew it. To his surprise, his match was the first. Zari and Medora wished him luck as he hurried to the dueling ground.
Daylan's opponent was a girl dressed in a red cropped vest and jean shorts. He had seen her fight the previous day, and her artifact was a whip. While he wasn't sure if she had any other tricks up her sleeve, he was confident that, if not, it would be an easy victory.
She has mad reflexes… so I need something stupid.
The moment the announcer signaled the fight to begin, Daylan remained still, his guard raised. Seizing the opportunity, his opponent lashed her whip at him with swift precision.
There goes nothing!
Daylan dodged the whip and dashed toward her blind side. The girl smiled, shaking her whip, and in that instant, it snapped backward, aiming straight for Daylan's head.
Daylan was exactly where he wanted to be. He threw his dagger at her, but his reaction time wasn't quick enough to avoid her whip. However, his dagger was all he needed. The moment the whip coiled around him, the girl was also focused on evading Daylan's dagger.
Despite the pain, he smiled, grabbed her whip, and pulled her closer. Before she could process what was happening, Daylan delivered four devastating strikes, slamming her into the wall.
Blood trickled from her nose as she struggled to rise. Daylan was immediately declared the winner. He turned to the stands, scanning for Zira. His smile widened as soon as he saw her cheering and waving at him. Without hesitation, he deepened his grin and waved back at her.
I made it to the final twenty, huh? There's no losing now.
Daylan made his way upstairs and sat in his seat.
"That was reckless, but I guess you won, so that's what matters… congratulations."
Daylan grinned. "Thank you, princess." She gave him a devastating look.
He immediately shook his hands. "I'm sorry!" Astara wore a slight smile.
Daylan also smiled, feeling a sense of relief that she hadn't lost her smile.
The tournament continued, and Daylan was able to focus more than he had the previous day, now that his duel was over. However, most participants didn't reveal any of their true abilities, relying solely on sheer strength, especially Enyo.
Astara looked terrifying in her duel. Her opponent was forced to beg for mercy, forfeiting the match. Her senses, her hearing, had sharpened beyond belief. It was as though she could hear the future before it happened. Every attack from her opponent was intercepted before he even made it. His flesh was slashed open dozens of times, leaving him helpless.
Her brutality made Daylan shiver—it was clear that something was troubling her. He knew he couldn't ignore it any longer; he had to find a way to get her to open up.
The moment she returned from her duel and took her seat, Astara leaned back, resting her head and breathing calmly. Daylan decided to let her have her rest, planning to question her later when she was more at ease.
Before long, it was Medora's turn. She faced off against a fellow guard. Their strikes were in perfect sync as if they had trained together for decades. Despite their familiarity with each other's movements, Medora's attacks were too powerful for her opponent. His hands began to tremble, overwhelmed by her strength, and soon enough, Medora emerged victorious.
The moment the last duel came to an end, Astara urged them to leave the monastery. Daylan understood her completely and didn't want to cause her any more trouble, but he made sure to bid farewell to Zari and Medora before departing.
Neither of them barely muttered a word. Daylan had to fight the urge to use Spiral Mind on her—he knew he needed to respect her privacy.
As soon as they arrived, they both headed to the training center. At her command, their meals were brought over while they trained. Before Daylan could find the perfect moment to question her, Astara muttered unexpectedly.
"Don't worry, Day. I will tell you everything once the tournament is over." She barely glanced at Daylan. She was solely focused on training.
Daylan smiled and nodded.
They continued to train relentlessly, each pushing themselves to the limit. They trained separately, but Astara's devotion kept Daylan on his toes. Before long, Daylan collapsed to the floor, his limbs screaming in agony as he lay there, panting like a dying horse.
Not long after, Astara also joined him.
"You are such a bummer. Your laziness just affected me."
Daylan laughed, his voice echoing through the walls. They both lay there, their body drenched in sweat, devouring the warmth within the walls. They soon succumbed to sleep.
The day soon came, and by the time Daylan woke up, Astara was already gone. He hurried to freshen up, not wanting to keep her waiting.
Before long, he finished and tightened his uniform, feeling its texture as he strode toward the carriage. Daylan wore a confident smile, taking steady steps.
"We're all scared, you know? Stop hiding it." Astara broke through his defense the moment he was within reach.
Yeah, he was scared—so much so that he had to grip something to stop his hand from trembling. He wished he could skip that day and just see the results the next, but unfortunately, that wasn't how life worked. He braced himself, fully aware that his mother's life depended on what happened that day.
Their carriage began rolling away, and the only thought that kept repeating in Daylan's mind was, 'There's no losing now.'
Before he knew it, they had arrived at the arena. He was supposed to feel cheered up by seeing Zira at the entrance, ready to wish him luck, but instead, it only made him more nervous. It reminded him of how much he couldn't afford to lose. Still, he hurried out of the carriage, masking his fear with a smile as he went to join Zira. Just when he thought he was acting perfectly, Zira spoke up.
"I'm scared too, big brother, and I know mom is also scared. But don't worry, no matter what happens, we know you've tried your best, and Mom and I are proud of you." She smiled.
Daylan's eyes flickered as he stared at Zira, his mouth slightly open. Before tears could fall, he sniffled, rubbing his nose with his uniform.
Medora walked beside him, holding his hand, and outstretched her other hand toward Astara's. "Let's win this."
Zira punched the air with a big smile. "Yes! Let's win."
Daylan suddenly burst into laughter. He had no idea why he was laughing, but it just felt right. Before long, the others joined him, their laughter filling the air.
Before long, the tournament began, and they bid their farewells as they all made their way to their seats.
Zira's words were enough to restore Daylan's confidence. The absence of parental love in Dexter's life had shaped his view of affection.
He had always believed that parental love had to be earned, which is why he pushed himself so hard—studying relentlessly for perfect scores and mastering every instrument. He thought that if he did all this, his parents would finally notice him. But when they never did, he began to believe he wasn't good enough.
But now, everything made it clear that he had been wrong. His parents never wanted to love him, and love wasn't something that needed to be earned—it was something that should be given.
He smiled.
Before long, the phase of the day began.