It wasn't just Gary in the room. Chas sat casually on a couch against the far wall, taking a deep puff from a comically oversized pipe. He glanced up and met our eyes with his usual infuriating grin—like he hadn't completely abandoned us earlier.

  "Gary!" I said, deliberately ignoring Chas as I approached the desk. "Didn't think we'd see you here."

  "Ah yes," Gary replied, his smile warm as summer sunshine. "I'm on loan for the Tournament, in a manner of speaking. I'm here to offer you a boon for the event and help guide you to information while you await your turn." His expression turned serious. "You may only pick one."

  "What've you got for us, Gary?" Thea asked, leaping onto his desk with zero ceremony.

  "Ah! Theadora Glass. It's been too long." Gary's eyes twinkled with genuine affection. "Allow me to show you the three boons available for this event. Be mindful—I can't tell you which event it is, nor the modifiers, if any."

  "Tethered Bridge," Thea said with a knowing nod.

  Chas erupted into a coughing fit, smoke billowing around him. He pulled out his flask and took a long drink, eyes watering.

  "I'd at least encourage you to react neutrally for future events," Gary scolded, but Chas waved him off with zero shame.

  Gary shook his head and passed his hand over the desk. "Three boons, each selected randomly from the Monster Hunter armory. The good one, not the one you've seen."

  Chas chuckled from his corner, the sound rich with inside knowledge.

  "There's more than one armory?" I asked, but Cass immediately socked me in the shoulder and shushed me.

  Thea examined the items that materialized on Gary's desk while Red jumped up, paws gripping the edge, tail wagging so hard it practically had a weather system. He was probably just happy to see Gary again.

  Three items lay before us: a small, cloudy marble-sized crystal that seemed to swirl with inner mist, a plate gauntlet that looked suspiciously similar to my armored one, and a slick-looking Orichalcum sword that practically screamed "pick me."

  "Sword," Cass said immediately, her voice hungry.

  I socked her back. "Let Thea choose."

  Thea picked up the marble and tossed it to me without warning. My hand shot out, catching it before my brain even registered the motion.

  "That's the one you want," Thea said with absolute certainty.

  "Aw," Cass groaned, looking like someone had stolen her birthday cake.

  Malcolm laughed. "Trust the expert."

  The moment my fingers touched the marble, mana jolted through me like electricity. My vision exploded with superimposed images—the room became transparent, showing silhouettes of other participants moving through their own chambers, completely unaware I could see them.

  I yanked my mana back and staggered as reality snapped into focus.

  "The Guiding Stone," Gary said with an approving nod. "Excellent for finding objectives and avoiding ambushes." He waved his hand, and the remaining items vanished like they'd never existed.

  "Don't worry," I told Cass, whose disappointment was practically radiating off her. "You can pick the sword next time."

  "A Guiding Stone is incredible," Malcolm said, his voice carrying genuine respect. "I've used one before. They’re good for finding things—it helps find paths. If we're running the Bridge event, we'll know exactly where to go."

  I examined the stone in my palm, then tossed it to Malcolm. He fumbled the catch but secured it.

  "Awesome. You're on guide duty then."

  Cass nodded approvingly. "That makes sense. Thea said we're only as fast as our slowest with the tether, so you lead. Unless you've been secretly training as a speed demon, Malcolm."

  He laughed, the sound genuine and relaxed. "Gaia's tits, no. I can't react the way you two can, so this evens us out."

  I caught Thea staring at us like we were nuts. Even Chas had an eyebrow arched in surprise.

  "What?" I asked.

  "When it comes down to it, you really are different, huh?" Thea's voice carried something like wonder. "Most groups I've fought with argue about who uses the boon until the fucking event starts."

  I glanced at Malcolm and Cass, who looked just as surprised as I did.

  "You haven't spent much time around actual Hunters, have you?" Chas asked, taking another pull from his ridiculous pipe. "It's not just a Ben thing. Hunters are all about collaboration. Resources get shared, strengths get shored up. It's why they're so damn effective—hunts need everyone as strong as they can possibly get."

  "As opposed to the Empire," Malcolm added with bitter experience, "where it's basically everyone for themselves. Enlisting with the Monster Hunters is voluntary, and most nobles don't bother once they hit Adept. Others join the Legion."

  I remembered Cass mentioning nobles who treated Sylvarus like a diploma mill—get the minimum magical education, then coast on family wealth.

  "It also makes more sense tactically," I said. "This way Malcolm can melt stuff through walls."

  Malcolm's expression shifted, wheels turning. "Oh yeah, I could definitely do that."

  "Thanks, Gary." I turned to face Chas, letting steel creep into my voice. "So why are you here, exactly?"

  "Ouch," he said, grinning without shame. "Just making sure Maris doesn't try anything sneaky before the events."

  Chas's gaze fixed on my staff, which had extended into its blade configuration. "Since when does it have a blade?"

  Cass noticed for the first time, and her jaw dropped. "How long has it been like that? How did I not notice?"

  Malcolm squinted at her like she'd lost her mind. "It transformed into a blade right after he summoned it. It's been like that for an hour."

  "There's so much going on! I was on high alert!" Cass said defensively, her cheeks flushing.

  "Oh, Ted showed me how to do it. Check this out." I shifted the blade into its heavy hammerhead configuration, the weapon's weight redistributing with satisfying authority.

  Chas whistled low. "Damn, kid. Having a hammer and blade's gonna be real effective for fighting monsters. Not that I'm jealous or anything."

  His tone suggested he was absolutely jealous.

  Thea and Malcolm stared at the hammerhead with undisguised awe. Even Darla seemed interested, her pig eyes tracking the weapon's movements.

  "I've never seen Orichalcum that could change shapes before," Malcolm said, his voice carrying the confidence of someone who understood magical craftsmanship.

  "There's a relic here in the Academy," Darla oinked thoughtfully. "A chain we've been studying. It can extend to extreme ranges by creating more links. Dara might know more."

  I felt a tiny pinprick against Valor's awareness and spun, pointing directly at empty air. "Gotcha!"

  Dara materialized mid-step, yelping in surprise as Chas erupted into delighted laughter.

  "I hate aura runes," Dara said, pouting like a child whose favorite hiding spot had been discovered.

  "Who do you think taught him the Courage rune?" Chas said between laughs. "She can't sneak up on me either, kid, and it irritates the fuck out of her."

  "Are you just going to appear every time we say your name?" I asked.

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  "Maybe." Her smile was pure mischief. "If I can't annoy Diana all the time, I can at least annoy her apprentice."

  Ted immediately manifested between Dara and me, his grin cocky as ever. "It's okay, beautiful. You can just say you want to see me."

  I groaned, but what happened next made my jaw drop.

  Ted went rigid as Dara leaned down, bringing her face within a centimeter of his. Her smile turned predatory.

  "Never."

  She straightened like nothing had happened, leaving Ted looking stunned. Wait—wasn't she blushing in our suite earlier? Was this a different Dara? How did that even work with tower spirits?

  "I was going to say the chain is on loan from the Oathbound," Dara continued as if she hadn't just emotionally destroyed my reflection. "We've had little luck figuring out what makes it work. Might be worth letting Ted examine it if you're both staying on Ark, but that's not why I'm here."

  "You've got the tethers?" Thea asked suddenly all business.

  Dara nodded. "I do. The events are about to begin. Diana asked me to brief you, since this is your team's first tournament."

  We migrated to the sitting area where Chas had claimed residence, settling onto various couches. Red flopped onto the floor with an exasperated grunt that suggested he was done with all this talking.

  "The arena's been sealed," Dara explained. "The open ceiling is now enclosed with a dome. That means I can influence it, but it also means spectators from across Ark can watch." Her expression turned serious. "The moment you cross that threshold, thousands of people—both here and in towers worldwide—will be watching."

  My stomach clenched. This wasn't just a local competition.

  "Just how many people are we talking about?" I asked.

  Dara shrugged, her smile mysterious. "You'll see. But try not to say anything too stupid." Her gaze shifted. "Especially you, Ted."

  "Hey!" Ted shot back, feigning outrage. "I'm not staying out here while they're fighting monsters. Fuck that."

  Dara produced three wristbands that looked more like metal cuffs—silver with a red metallic strip inlaid at the center. They had weight to them, a significance that made my skin crawl.

  "These are your tethers," she explained. "They increase hunt difficulty in two ways. Get too far from each other, and you'll feel strong physical pull. If you can't physically move toward each other, your mana will drain rapidly through the blood iron at the center."

  "Blood iron?!" Malcolm's face twisted with horror. "That's for criminals! Why would we want to wear these?"

  Dara scoffed. "I assure you, these are far from crude manacles. I hung the runic enchantments myself. Look for yourself."

  I examined my cuff, and my enhanced sight picked up dozens of runes anchored to the metal in ways I'd never seen before. Some focused on distance, drain, and expression, but others were harder to identify. The arrangement reminded me of a connected web—intricate and intentional.

  Malcolm studied his cuff with growing fascination. "These are masterful. Anchored enchantments? That must be expensive. Do they self-regenerate?"

  Dara's smile turned secretive. "Trade secrets. Please place your tethers on your non-dominant wrist."

  "What about Red?" I asked, sliding the cuff onto my left arm. The metal was surprisingly warm.

  "Your familiar won't need a tether, since he's not permitted to carry objective items. He can scout or assist with combat only."

  Red looked up from the floor and honked at us with a low rumble that clearly said

  "Okay, I'm pretty sure Red's going to throw a fit if something doesn't happen soon," I said. "How do we get to the arena?"

  Dara gestured to a set of double doors that definitely hadn't existed moments before.

  "Right, of course," Cass said with a laugh. "The door that had obviously been there the entire time."

  "Tower spirits..." Malcolm muttered.

  "You'll probably want armor," Chas suggested, taking another pull from his ridiculous pipe.

  Cass slammed down her armor case and began changing while Malcolm stretched his arms. His clothes shifted into black robes affixed with dark metal in a half-plate configuration that made him look more like a dark knight than an Arcanist.

  I'd never seen Malcolm's armor before—this outfit was genuinely menacing.

  By the time Cass finished securing her gear, she found us waiting. I rocked on my feet with a smirk.

  "Well, fuck off," she said with mock irritation. "I don't have a mana sanctum. It takes me a minute." She turned to Dara. "Now what?"

  "As luck would have it," Dara said with a smile that wasn't entirely luck, "your team was ranked highest, so you get to go first."

  "All right, Red, let's go," I said.

  The dog practically launched himself to his feet, rushing to the doors. He wasn't sending much through our bond, but his eagerness to show off was crystal clear.

  I shook my head at the crazy animal. If he planned to pull off what he'd done on the boat, the spectators were definitely in for a show.

  "Don't fuck up!" Thea called as we walked through the doors.

  The doors opened onto a hallway that led directly into the arena proper. I'd expected something big, but this defied comprehension.

  The stone-floored arena stretched before us—easily two or three times larger than any stadium on Earth. We'd glimpsed it from our suite, but experiencing it firsthand was overwhelming. The ceiling soared over a hundred meters above, while towering walls lined with elaborate enclosures surrounded us in a near-vertical oval.

  The moment we stepped inside, a thunderous roar of cheers and applause crashed through the air like a physical force. Hundreds—no, thousands—of people crowded those colored boxes, stretching up and around us until they disappeared in shadow.

  Where the hell had they all come from? The most people I'd seen in one place on Ark was maybe a few hundred for the tournament registration. Even bustling Sylvarus harbor hadn't approached these numbers.

  Cass and Malcolm both stared in awe. Malcolm's expression looked more satisfied than overwhelmed, but I caught the wide-eyed amazement before he masked it behind noble composure.

  Red trotted ahead of us, tail high and steps light. Was he... strutting?

  "People of Ark." Grace's voice boomed through the space with supernatural clarity, silencing thousands instantly. "This Grand Tournament begins tonight. The Monster Hunters of La-Roc stand with the Arcanists of Sylvarus, accused by the Strikers of Merigold. Tradition of trial by strength will determine who speaks truth."

  The arena erupted in wild cheers that crashed through the air like a tidal wave. Grace continued once silence returned.

  "Our first event features one such accused—a Terran. Archon Aldertree's new Apprentice, Seeker Ben Crawford, Aspirant to the Monster Hunters and the first Breaker in nearly ten years. He is joined by his familiar: Red."

  Dead silence followed her words. The arena was too massive for Valor to pick up individual reactions, but I could feel thousands of eyes locked on me, wide and unblinking. The weight of their attention was suffocating.

  Grace pressed on with professional composure.

  "His team, the Godsdamned Problem, is the highest-ranked set of Seekers currently in the tournament, each just as distinct. Seeker Cassandra Winters, heiress to La-Roc and Apprentice to Charles Blackwood of Shar."

  A modest wave of cheers hit us, but compared to the previous silence, it felt like a physical blow. I glanced at Cass—her expression was painfully uncomfortable. The attention, the titles, the cheers—it all made her squirm. She really hated her family's prominence.

  I mouthed "Giant boat" and nodded toward the crowd.

  Cass's lips twitched into a grin, her gaze sweeping over the spectators with renewed confidence.

  "And finally, Seeker Malcolm Valerian, Son of Archon Maris Valerian, the Crimson Prince, Scion of the Falling Star."

  The arena exploded. Cheers and applause thundered through the walls, the entire structure vibrating with sound that seemed to come from every direction at once.

  This was my first time hearing Malcolm's full title. The Crimson Prince? He really was a pot calling the kettle black with Cass. I shot a look at her—she appeared equally confused.

  "Silence!" Grace's voice cracked like a whip. Not a Soulcry, but the effect was identical. Voices cut off instantly.

  "The first event tonight will be a fan favorite—The Bridge. Because of the stakes involved, each event will be increased in difficulty. The competitors have been outfitted with tether cuffs. Please return to your viewing stations as the event begins."

  Nervousness twisted in my gut like a living thing. This was it—the Grand Tournament. The thing I'd been preparing for all week. The thing that would decide whether my insane new life on Ark would continue or if I'd end up starting over somewhere potentially far more dangerous.

  The air crackled with familiar static as light blue mist rolled across the floor. A sensation like falling slammed into my chest as the arena walls faded, becoming ghostly impressions. The ceiling transformed into a clear, moonlit sky with the dome's outline barely visible.

  The sand beneath my feet twisted, replaced by cool grass.

  I blinked as the brightly lit arena faded into background noise. We now stood in a grassy field under a starry sky that looked real. Ahead of us, a small stone dais held a lion statue with a polished granite orb spinning in its mouth on a layer of water. It looked like a fountain from an upscale mall—if the mall existed in a fantasy realm.

  "Your objective," Dara's voice echoed from everywhere at once, quiet but unmistakable. "Place this sphere onto a duplicate dais on the opposite side of the arena and keep it there for sixty seconds to complete the event. Additional points will be awarded based on teamwork, monsters defeated, speed, and resourcefulness. Should a teammate find themselves in dire situation, they will be removed from the arena with penalty applied. I will have no deaths in my trials. You may only use mana orbs recovered from slain monsters. Any other items used will incur penalty. You may begin."

  We stood in silence for a heartbeat before Cass spoke up.

  "The fuck is the Scion of the Falling Star?"

  Malcolm groaned as we approached the dais. "It's an insult from my mother. She gave me an official title when I renounced my claim to Merigold and left to study runes. She says I was a star in the sky that's fallen from grace. Somewhere along the way, people made up their own stories about what it actually means."

  "A badass title to go with equally badass armor," I said. "I bet the women love it."

  Malcolm shrugged. "Wouldn't know. I've spent most of my time around Dorian and Darryl."

  Red rumbled at us impatiently. Focus. Tournament? he seemed to say.

  "Okay, okay. Jeez, you're excited about this event." I scratched behind his ears while scanning our surroundings. The treeline was about forty meters ahead, but this wasn't the dense forest from La-Roc. Loosely spaced trees, large stumps, and scattered boulders broke up the landscape. I couldn't see anything resembling a dais through the trees—we might have a serious trek ahead.

  "So do we just pick it up?" Cass asked, lifting the orb from the dais.

  Instantly, the water stopped flowing, and the platform lowered to ground level. A pulse of mana erupted from it, and the cuff on my wrist buzzed with a faint sensation of drag. Not powerful, but as I walked back toward Cass, the sensation faded almost completely.

  "I guess so?" I said, glancing at my cuff. "You feel that?"

  She nodded, and Malcolm confirmed with his own nod.

  "All right, let's get to—" Malcolm started.

  A booming roar from the treeline cut him off. First one, then two, then dozens of different calls echoed from ahead like some kind of monster battle cry.

  A massive, black, four-armed, gorilla-like creature crashed through the trees, snapping a trunk clean in half like it was a toothpick. Glowing red eyes locked onto us, and it roared, spit flying from its mouth as two more creatures emerged to flank it.

  Each one was easily the size of a pickup truck, with arms that could probably crush a person.

  I glanced at Cass and then Malcolm. Cass drew a sword while clutching the orb, and I gripped Winchester, still in hammerhead configuration. The weapon's weight felt reassuring in my hands.

  Remembering our audience of thousands, I used the large sledgehammer to stretch my arms—making a show of limbering up like I was preparing for a casual workout instead of monster combat.

  "All right, let's make some magic happen," I said, letting confidence ring in my voice.

  There was no way I was ready for this.