"What kind of person is she, huh?" Logan whispered to himself.
Then he spoke in a clear, audible tone, his gaze distant. "She’s strong. Very strong. No doubt about that. But... she’s too proud. More than she needs to be. And that pride.." he paused "it blinds her. Not just sometimes... maybe most of the time. That makes it hard for her to see that someone else might actually be stronger."
Rowan smiled faintly. "You didn’t disappoint me. That’s why I forced her to surrender. Because she wouldn’t stop—not until she was seriously hurt. Her pride wouldn’t let her back down."
He paused, a flicker of emotion briefly flashed through his eyes.
"I didn’t join this tournament to hurt people. I only entered because I had to."
Logan blinked, startled. "I see..."
He felt a bit ashamed of himself. After everything, after living an entire lifetime as a war veteran, he still couldn’t read through the layers of this boy. A boy not even twenty had seen farther ahead than him. He pushed the self-blame aside and asked again, his tone more careful this time.
"What do you mean... you had to?"
Rowan chuckled softly. "Logan, don’t you think you’re asking too many questions for someone who’s so secretive about himself?"
"Fair point," Logan muttered, scratching the back of his head. He was clearly caught off guard, and he didn’t know how to respond.
Noticing his unease, Rowan’s tone softened. "Don’t worry. I’ll tell you. But when the time comes, I hope you’ll choose wisely about whether to share your own truth. Secrets can’t be one-sided forever."
He exhaled and looked up at the sky. "You know there are five kingdoms in our world, right?"
"I do," Logan replied. "Arcadia, Velkar, Caelondor, Solmyr, and Drazhul."
"Good. You’re well-informed." Rowan gave a nod of approval. "Even though Arcadia maintains cordial ties with the other four kingdoms, not all of them are as genuine as they pretend to be. Velkar and Drazhul especially. They’re struggling."
He looked ahead, voice growing heavier.
"Those two have suffered major losses in the past few years and it keeps increasing. Numerous casualties from dungeons, territories being swallowed by breakouts and appearance of new dungeons. Their kings smile and act so friendly with all other nations, but it’s all just a front. And with Arcadia growing stronger, it’s only a matter of time before that false friendliness cracks. A war is coming, Logan. Maybe not this year, maybe not next—but it will come soon."
Rowan paused, letting the weight of his words settle. Then continued again.
"I don’t know who’ll inherit the throne. That’s not my concern. But I do know this—when that war comes, I won’t stand by. I’ll fight. For the people who deserve protection. Who are innocent."
Logan stared at him in silence. There was something about Rowan’s voice—steady, unwavering—that stirred something within him.
"But," Rowan continued, "a battle isn’t won alone. You need people beside you. People you can trust, even with your eyes closed. And that’s why I joined this tournament—not for glory. But to try my luck and see if I could find anyone worthy of such role."
Logan remained quiet. His mind was buzzing with internal thoughts.
Wars weren’t won by a single person. You needed allies. Real ones.
But Logan had trusted once—and paid the price with his life. Betrayed. Slain by the very brother he called family.
Still... Rowan’s words weren’t empty. His motive to fight wasn’t power. It was protection. That alone set him apart from most nobles.
"If he really means it," Logan thought, "then maybe... just maybe... he deserves to know."
Once burned, even the sight of smoke feels like fire.
So Logan stayed quiet. Cautious. He planned on taking one step at a time. He wanted to test the depth of the water more before diving in it.
Then Rowan broke the silence again. "And I’m glad I came. It seems fate set a trap using me as the bait. I thought I was here by choice, but maybe it was never my move."
Logan raised a brow. "What do you mean?"
"Do you remember your third opponent?" Rowan asked, his tone casual but laced with something darker.
"Yeah. Lira Wynn." Logan replied automatically.
"Well... the one you fought wasn’t the real Lira Wynn."
Logan’s eyes widened. "What?"
"She was an imposter," Rowan said. "Sent to assassinate me."
The revelation hit like thunder. Logan leaned back in his seat, processing the words. "That... makes sense," he muttered. "Her attack, her intent, it felt different. She was surely trying to kill me. She could never be only a Tier 2."
"Exactly," Rowan nodded. "She wasn’t. I suspect she was at least Tier 4. Maybe higher."
Everything suddenly clicked. Her speed, her killing intent, the unnatural strength—Logan could easily sense it but still couldn’t place it....
"And her companions?" Logan asked.
"There were two more people. We successfully captured them as well. They’re in custody for now. I’ll make them talk eventually. I’m almost certain they’re connected to Velkar or Drazhul."
"And the real Lira?" Logan asked, his voice softening. He hadn’t known her personally, but the thought of someone innocent being a victim still struck a chord.
"She’s safe," Rowan reassured him. "She is in a coma right now, but stable. It’s not permanent. Once she wakes up... she might help us uncover the rest. I think she knows something."
Logan exhaled slowly. "That’s good."
But before the relief could fully settle, Rowan dropped another bomb.
"And that’s not the only group after me. I think there is another one."
Logan’s eyes narrowed. "There’s more?"
Rowan nodded. "Yes. A group from within our own borders. One that thrives in darkness."
"Who?" Logan’s voice was steady now.
Rowan’s gaze turned sharp.
"A sect known for despicable acts. The Third Eye Sect."
The name rang through Logan’s mind like a cursed bell.
He clenched his fist without him even knowing.