Mina and Loa's names blazed first, then Nex, Viz, Skadi, Rox… until the weight of destiny began piling so heavily across the crystal that even my ribbons felt pinned.
When the first match etched itself into being, broad and bright for everyone to see, Mina hissed through her teeth when her name appeared, paired with Loa. She leaned back with arms folded, pretending calm, though her biceps twitched nervously.
"Of course we're first. Core couldn't resist. But what's Biscuit doing up there? Didn't she get…"
Loa said nothing, but her sleeves trembled once before she tucked them tight. She fixed her gaze on the opposing names—Biscuit and Whirlkool, Jalkra's crew—her lips tightening.
"And isn't that Gremorie?!" Mina exclaimed in a hushed voice. "Why is she here? It's dangerous for her to—"
Skadi looked up at her with wiggling, playful brows. "Seems Meanie's getting protective!"
Mina in response growled. The Oni woman then waved her hand in dismissal, her expression shifting into a coolly grin after clearing her throat.
"Not like I care or anything about that gremlin."
Just then Nex hissed his frustration out as if hebit into bile. He must've saw his mother's name on the roster.
"She here's too? So father's killer is participating in Jalkra's name! Big mistake."
His siblings Rox and Viz fidgeted beside him, their discomfort evident. Rox looked at her brother with a frown, only for Skadi to use her head-limb's paw to ease her festering distress.
Viz pointed upwards.
"Uh, b-besides that, looks like we're up against Gamuikaze," Viz tried to avert Nex's attention. "A, safe win for us? Though it is puzzling that he's participating. Wasn't he petrified into stone by Violet? Both he and Biscuit were. Did Jalkra's guy strike a deal with her? It looks like it."
Viz rubbed his chin. He then swept his gaze in search for the two supposed victims of Violet.
Nex harrumphed his response. Still brooding, but I could tell his mind was processing the possibilities of his vengeance. "Sure, bro. Hopefully, we'll swiftly knock the lights out of that wind-talker to make it to… her."
But despite his words, we both shared the same concern—the confounding question as to who this Yasuya was of Jalkra's team. He may have been another member of Jalkra's Ten Pillars. But the lack of information on him proved dangerous. Even Loa's intelligence had nothing on this one.
But when [Dime and Amber] flared against [Venerable Vaine and Miss Fang], a knot twisted in my chest.
"LeeLee! You've got to be kidding me," her talons began scraping the tile in panicked motions.
Her feathers all but ignited beside me, crackling with an aura that wasn't far from Zest's sparks. Dime's snout steadied her, though her eyes burned on Vaine like smoldering coals.
Vaine merely inclined his head at the sight of his name, the faintest trace of a smile touching his lips. He didn't gloat, didn't smirk outright—he simply let the inevitable hang in the air like a fang poised above a throat.
I felt it too—the unmistakable shove of fate.
Then came Match Five.
[Zest + Kyrawl] vs. [Maelvotruth Warlord + Eerie Root.]
The static around Zest burst in visible arcs. "What!?" His antlers sparked violently, and Oath had to tighten her grip on his shoulder to keep him from charging right then and there. Though interpreting his surprise could've been split.
Knowing him, he very likely wasn't pleased to be matched against the wrong Warlord.
Kyrawl bared his teeth in a grimace, muttering something about "rigged Core nonsense." The wyvern glanced at Bash, then Vaine. His soured expression said it all: the foe they were pitted against was guaranteed to be an equal to those formidable warriors.
Maelvotruth. A monstrous tree creature wasn't in the room with us. But the rumors of his notorious feats were enough to have me worried for them.
The worries worsened when the spectators in the lobby began murmuring to themselves.
"Isn't… Maelvotruth the same tyrant that sapped the Sylvan Guardian's lands to ruin…"
"Yeah, he even skewered a great kraken to the stratosphere. The cruel coot even left the whole South DreaGoth sea a husk."
"Hush…! He may be lurking outside the building. Those roots of his may be listening to us now."
The crowd's unease was quickly mocked and drowned out by a gang of machine-and-seafarer fiends. They called themselves the Rust Syndicate. It was my first time seeing them, but the marauder waving their banner left no doubt who they were.
At the center stood the loudest of them: a towering machine monster shaped like a massive, grinning head. From its steel skull jutted spiked limbs, each hand gripping a brutal axe. Its armor and tattered garb evoked both a Viking raider and a headless knight.
My [Insight] registered him as Xiecruel the Trampler.
???
[Status] Xiecruel
Creature: [Heavilhead (D)]
Titles:
- "Xiecruel the Trampler"
- "Rust Syndicate Fleet Commander"
Alt Species Name: "Metal Head Zeldrimon"
Dominions: [Unleash] [Generalist]
APeX: [1,643,100 Units]
Attributes: [Metal], [Evil]
Evolution Stage: [Dominant]
Current Variant Grade: [Elite]
???
???
[Combat Status]
Stored AP: [Access Denied]
Current APeX: [1,643,100 Units]
[Raw Parameters]:
STR: [800,000] ?
DEF: [843,000] ?
FPWR: [0]
WIL: [0]
RES: [0]
SPD: [0]
Max Parameter Cap: [1,643,100]
Note: Total cannot surpass max APeX
???
He resumed his guffaw, jagged teeth clanking. "Look how unlucky that deer and wyvern beast are—the first to meet the old root's grinder! Same with the Venerable Vaine's matchup! What d'you think, Boss?"
Xiecruel glanced at the monster beside him. It resembled a bearded walrus with a dwarf-like face, yet its bipedal stance and stout, muscular frame made it unmistakably humanoid. This juggernaut had ram-like horns, with tusks and claws that jutted like spears. In its grip rested a massive shield—part bulwark, part battering ram. The other grasped a wicked grappling hook with an anchor attachment.
???
[Status] Don Irusthook
Creature: [Walrrusk (D)]
Titles:
- "Grappler Irusthook"
- "Rust Syndicate First-Mate"
Alt Species Name: "War Walrus Zeldrimon"
Dominions: [Augment] [Virtuoso]
APeX: [3,522,000 Units]
Attributes: [Beast], [Brawl], [Relic]
Evolution Stage: [Dominant]
Current Variant Grade: [Elite]
???
???
[Combat Status]
Stored AP: [Access Denied]
Current APeX: [3,522,000 Units]
[Raw Parameters]:
STR: [1,300,000] ?
DEF: [511,000]
FPWR: [511,000]
WIL: [811,000] ?
RES: [133,000]
SPD: [133,000]
Max Parameter Cap: [3,522,000]
Note: Total cannot surpass max APeX
???
Irusthook had one of the hardest stares ever. Nothing remotely blank or thoughtless, but one that belonged to a man who'd experienced plenty of hardships—probably countless battles in his lifetime.
"Yer askin' fer opinions, Xiecruel? Well, first off, ya need to quit worryin' about them rookies!" His hook pounded against his shield, and a seismic shockwave swept through the room. Many of the onlookers and his teammates went still, including me. I noticed how Bash's grin was feral with glee.
It was then that Don Irusthook threw his arms out.
"Superior to wood, superior to flesh, superior to bone! The seas tell no lies—Rusthook is the terror of tides!" he bellowed. "And this tournament shall know it too!"
Xiecruel's jagged grin stretched wide, though his eyes remained sharp and calculating. "Careful, Don. The Core may decide you're matched with your so-called 'old roots' sooner than you'd like."
Irusthook let his voice ring out loud and clear for everyone to hear.
"Oh, but every rumor in his history is indeed true. I was there, witnessing it with this dear eye!" He thrust a metal claw toward the eye not covered by an iron eyepatch.
"But that's because old Maelvotruth and I clashed on the battlefield countless times. Even fought side by side a few times. War buddies, rivals—it doesn't matter. The Rust Syndicate is here for the fight and the grand loot!"
His crewmates spirits were bolstered. They raised their weapons and unleashed a cry that shook the room.
"We the proud Rust Syndicate haft ter remain focused—on our own darn offense. Though this swabbie Chimera Crew has terrific luck to prove themselves." His sideway glance fell on me for a moment.
The crowd muttered at that, some amused, others unnerved. The idea of pitting machine against nature—or the new against old—was one the Core would no doubt savor.
Bash gave a guttural snort, as if unimpressed. "Irusthook noisy. Too noisy. Bash smash wood, smash metal, same noise in the end."
Vaine's frilled crests flicked, golden edges shimmering as he gave the faintest of smirks. "Curious… the Core seems to be weaving theatrics as much as challenges. Perhaps it knows its audience better than we suspect."
My ribbons prickled at that. He wasn't wrong. Each match so far was baited with history, vendettas, and irony sharp enough to cut throats without needing a blade.
My gaze went to Zazeke, who was giving his opponent a sizeable appraisal. I spoke first, "You're up against him, and his comrade. Don't be careless with those two, all right?"
Zazeke didn't turn to me. He only gave a small, chivalrous nod. "Lady KiAera. It belittles me that you'd think I wouldn't give my best performance against such laudable foes."
His gaze now lingered on me. "Remember that I am Prince Zazeke of the Zespzap. A wasp such as myself was bred for war, not warmth. This is a delightful opportunity—to prove the fruition of our training in this great arena."
???
[Status] Prince Zazeke
Creature: [Zespzap (D)]
Courtesy [Name]: Zazeke the Zespzap
Titles:
- "Zespzap Prince"
- "Zespzap Prized Prince"
- "Zespzap Shocktroop Captain"
Alt Species Name: "Zap Wasp Zeldrimon"
Dominions: [Disrupt] [Virtuoso]
APeX: [2,625,000 Units]
Attributes: [Xensect], [Voltage]
Evolution Stage: [Dominant]
Current Variant Grade: [Elite]
???
???
[Combat Status]
Stored AP: [0]
Current APeX: [2,625,000 Units]
[Raw Parameters]:
STR: [625,000] ?
DEF: [100,000]
FPWR: [825,000] ?
WIL: [100,000]
RES: [100,000]
SPD: [825,000] ?
Max Parameter Cap: [2,625,000]
Note: Total cannot surpass max APeX
???
I proceeded to feel Tilz's presence. The dragonic kobold warrior approached with a swaggering gait, while holding his steely gaze on Irusthook's bunch.
I noticed how he stepped away from a gathered group of kobold warriors—those who were still subordinates of Jalkra's Clan. But I withheld my distrust. He probably was having a reunion with his former troops.
???
[Status] Tilz
Creature: [Koldrobalt (D)]
Faux [Nym]: Tilz the Koldrobalt
Titles:
- "Ex-Jalkra's Ten Pillars"
- "Chimera Crew Captain"
- "Captain of Red-Fangs Kobold Division"
Alt Species Name: "Dragonkin Kobold Zeldrimon"
Dominions: [Perceive] [Virtuoso]
APeX: [1,715,000 Units]
Attributes: [Brawl], [Cryptic]
Evolution Stage: [Dominant]
Current Variant Grade: [Rare]
???
???
[Combat Status]
Stored AP: [0]
Current APeX: [1,715,000 Units]
[Raw Parameters]:
STR: [515,000] ?
DEF: [300,000]
FPWR: [100]
WIL: [300,000] ?
RES: [300,000] ?
SPD: [250,000]
Max Parameter Cap: [1,715,000]
Note: Total cannot surpass max APeX
???
He patted my shoulder. He treated me like one of the lads, most did, though I'd stopped caring if anyone noticed I wasn't. "We'll do our best to overcome those mauraders today. I look forward to working with you, Zazeke."
That was Tilz's way: outwardly easygoing, inwardly sharpening his edge against the grindstone of every opponent's reputation.
"Likewise, Sir Tilz."
The two shook hands—well, claw to stinger—before splitting to their sides. I caught the brief moment of mutual appraisal in their gazes; they weren't friends, but in that instant they respected each other as comrades bound by their newfound dedication to our Chimera Crew.
The Rust Syndicate crew jeered from across the lobby, stomping their weapons against the floor. The vibrations rattled through my skin, and I noticed how Bash swayed with the rhythm like it was some tribal song only he could appreciate.
Meanwhile, Vaine didn't even spare them a glance. He stood like a statue, arms folded, waiting for Gim to complete the final inscriptions. His poise was unshaken, but that didn't make him any less dangerous—it made him predictable in the way only a perfected predator could be.
But I noticed something that made my ribbons coil uneasily.
It wasn't just that my crew was being matched against Warlords this early. It wasn't even that Jalkra's chosen had risen from Violet's petrification like puppets freed to do as they pleased.
It was the Core itself. It felt as though the cold workings of the crystal were being tampered.
The matches weren't random. They were chosen with a cruel intelligence that knew exactly how to stir conflict. Almost like someone had whispered into its heart, urging the weave to turn spectacle into vendetta.
And judging from the smiles curling on the lips of both Bash and Vaine, I wasn't the only one who noticed. My gut told me this wasn't just sport—it was a spectacle engineered to grind us down. The Chimera Crew's fall.