The bastard's blade

And just like that, Ran returned to the forest.

Redwood. The only place where he could be alone. It didn't judge, didn't whisper behind his back, didn't fear the sword he carried or the curse that throbbed like a second heart in his chest.

Each day, he trained. He swung his blade until his arms trembled, until the wind seemed to whisper "again." He hunted, slicing down wild beasts with precision, ate alone by the fire, and meditated beneath the crashing waterfall until the voices in his head dulled to a whisper.

It was a life fit for no one—but it was the only one he had.

The tournament days flew by.

Win. Win. Win.

No cheers. No applause. Just wary silence. His name now passed from mouth to mouth, whispered in the corners of the academy.

And then, the final day came.

Four contenders remained.

Ran versus Keldat.

Dawn Montello versus Honoria Guill.

Ran stood in the underground preparation room of the stadium. His eyes were half-lidded, body still from hours of meditation. But inside, his blood stirred. His opponent wasn't just another noble brat or arrogant mage. No. Keldat was common blood, born without a title, fighting to carve a future from stone with bare hands.

He respected that.

Above, the roar of the crowd announced the start of the semi-finals. This time his name was shouted with fervor—not admiration, but tension. They'd heard stories now. Of that red blade. Of that twisted smile that curled on his lips when the battle got intense. Of how every match ended without a single wasted movement.

He stepped into the arena.

Keldat was already waiting. He was short, maybe Ran's age, with brown eyes and a shaggy mushroom haircut. He gripped a dagger in each hand. No shiny armor. No enchanted sword. Just basic leather gear and raw determination.

Their eyes met. No hatred. No mockery.

Only resolve.

"I didn't expect to fight you, Ran."

Ran tilted his head slightly.

"Likewise."

Keldat nodded.

"Let's make this count."

The bell rang.

In an instant, Keldat vanished.

Ran's eyes widened just a little.

'Fast.'

The crowd gasped as Keldat's form disappeared from sight. Even among powerful students, few could track him. But Ran wasn't like others. He didn't rely on sight alone.

He closed his eyes, letting the energy of the world flow through him like a still pond. Then—

'There.'

A flicker in the wind.

He spun just as the dagger slashed toward his back. His crimson sword swung in a blur, intercepting Keldat mid-strike. Steel clashed, and Keldat tumbled back with a shallow cut across his shoulder.

But he didn't cry out. He gritted his teeth, wiped the blood away with his sleeve, and charged again.

Ran's sword danced with lethal grace, but Keldat dodged, ducked, and weaved. His strikes were sharp, clean, honed from countless fights in the streets, not fancy duels. They fought like beasts—Ran, the predator, and Keldat, the wild underdog refusing to fall.

Then Ran saw it.

The slight hitch in Keldat's breath.

His wounds were catching up.

And still, he charged.

He knows he can't win… but he still fights.

Ran's heart twisted. Not with pity, but with recognition.

This boy was just like him. Fighting because he had no other choice.

The crowd began to shift. They could feel it too. Two nameless boys clashing not for fame, not for pride—but for survival.

Keldat lunged, going for Ran's throat. Ran deflected, twisting the boy's dagger from his hand in a blur. With a smooth spin, he disarmed him entirely and placed his blade to the side of Keldat's neck.

Silence.

Keldat's knees buckled, but he didn't fall. His fists clenched, trembling, but his gaze was unwavering.

Ran withdrew his blade and stepped back.

"The match is over!"

The announcer declared.

It was all silent. No one cheered.

Ran was staring at Keldat, who stood breathing heavily, eyes glassy but burning with quiet defiance.

Ran sheathed his sword.

Keldat muttered.

"I gave it my all."

"I know. "That's why it hurt."

"Then why didn't you go easy on me?"

Ran looked to the sky.

"Because no one goes easy on me either. The world is cruel."

Keldat smiled, blood running down his chin.

"Bastard."

Ran nodded once and walked away.

Behind him, Keldat collapsed to his knees, eyes still shining with something that looked a lot like pride.

Back in the stands, Dawn Montello sat silently. She'd watched every fight of Ran's, studying the way he moved, the way he suppressed his emotion until it cracked just a little at the seams. She'd seen that flicker of remorse, the pain in his gaze.

"He doesn't fight to win. He fights to live."

She muttered.

Then came her turn.

Dawn Montello versus Honoria Guill.

The stadium now roared with anticipation. Unlike Ran's match, the crowd exploded in cheers. After all, both were noble-born, both were known prodigies, and both had immense followings.

Honoria Guill stood with regal pride, clad in robes laced with mana threads. Her blonde hair was braided into a war-knot, and around her hovered magical sigils.

Dawn, by contrast, wore simple combat gear, her sword sheathed at her back.

The fight began with a bang—literally.

Honoria summoned a hawk and a pigeon, each massive and glimmering with mana. She soared into the air, launching a volley of fireballs from above.

Dawn didn't blink.

She leapt, dashed, weaved through the barrage, her sword flashing. One clean strike—and the hawk vanished in a shimmer of light. The pigeon screeched and tried to fly higher, but Dawn rebounded off a wall and sliced through its wings.

Boom. Gone.

Honoria gritted her teeth. She was strong—no one doubted that—but Dawn was overwhelming.

Still, she had one card left.

With a scream, she unleashed her trump spell.

"Fire Magic: Disintegrate."

The very air around the stadium ignited. Flames roared like tidal waves. Students panicked, shielding their faces.

But Dawn was already gone.

She blurred forward, almost teleporting. The flames missed entirely.

In one heartbeat, she stood behind Honoria.

Her sword pressed against her opponent's neck.

Silence.

Then surrender.

The match was over.

Cheers erupted like thunder. The stands shook with applause.

Ran watched from the shadows of the waiting room, eyes locked on her.

He was impressed. Truly.

He clenched his hand, feeling the pulse of his cursed heart beneath his ribs.

Excitement. Dread. Something in between.

Both of them had already secured entry. Winning two matches was enough. But they weren't here just for a place in the academy.

Dawn wanted to prove herself. To surpass the expectations chained to her name.

And Ran?

Ran had nothing but this.

This fight would decide his future.

As the crowd continued cheering, he stepped back into the shadows, heart pounding like war drums.