First place.
Kira repeated the words over and over in her head as she stood in the Peach Garden, staring at the bottle of pills in her hand. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
A storm was coming.
Her eyes burned with new conviction.
"I need information," she concluded aloud.
She pulled out her map and searched for housing number 3465—the one Mizu had said she lived in. It took her a while, but she eventually found it, far from her own quarters, near the First Peak of the Cherry Spring Sect.
Kira channeled Qi into her legs and took off running.
The finely crafted lights and homes of other disciples blurred past her. The two moons were already hidden behind dark clouds. Cold rain hit her face like needles. It had started to pour.
By the time she arrived at Mizu's residence, she was completely drenched. Her hair clung to her face, her robes dripping water. Gasping for air, she banged her fist against the door.
A few long breaths later, the door opened.
Mizu stood there, yawning—until her sleepy eyes snapped open.
"Kira?! What are you doing here in the middle of the night? You're soaked! Quick, come inside!"
"Thanks," Kira muttered, stepping in sheepishly.
"Who dares to wake us at this hour?" came an annoyed voice from deeper in the house.
"Oh. It's you," Hari said with clear disdain.
Kira just nodded toward her with a blank expression.
"I won't keep you long," Kira began. "But this is really important. You know more about the sect than I do."
"Couldn't it wait till morning?" Hari groaned.
"No," Kira said sharply.
Mizu stepped closer, concerned. "What's wrong?"
"I need to know everything about the tournament," Kira said, her voice heavy.
"The tournament? It's still months away. What's so urgent?" Hari scoffed.
"It just is."
Kira didn't mention the ultimatum the white-haired elder had given her. Mizu seemed to sense she was holding something back but didn't push.
"Of course," Mizu said softly, offering a warm smile. "We'll tell you what we know."
"The tournament lasts one week. Three thousand disciples are competing—way too many for a regular bracket. So, the elders split it into three phases."
"Phases?" Kira echoed.
Mizu nodded. "Phase one has sixty battlefields, each with fifty disciples. It's a battle royale. No teams, no rules—just survive."
Kira blinked. "How many make it through?"
"Five from each field. That's three hundred total."
Kira let out a low whistle. "So ninety-five percent get eliminated in one day?"
"Exactly."
"And after that?"
"Phase two is one-on-one duels. The matches are random. They keep going until only seventy-five are left. Then the elders pick twenty-five more who stood out—fighters with promise."
"Favoritism," Kira muttered bitterly.
"Not always," Mizu said. "They look for more than just winning. Sometimes it's about style, adaptability, or raw potential."
Kira glanced at her, listening closely now.
"Phase three is about final rankings," Mizu continued. "The top hundred face off in smaller duels. Points are awarded for each fight, and the elders watch closely."
"How does the point system work?" Kira asked.
"You'll have three matches. A win earns you 3 points. A draw gives 1. A loss is nothing. Elders can also award a bonus point per match for exceptional technique, strategy, or control."
"So twelve is the max?"
"Exactly. It's not just about strength. The top spot will likely need at least 10 to 12 points."
Kira stumbled back and sat down on Mizu's bed without thinking—soaking it.
Panic gripped her chest. Her breath came faster.
"How am I supposed to get rank one…?" she whispered.
Mizu knelt in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her knee. Her ice-blue eyes held warmth.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
Kira looked away.
"Thanks for explaining," she mumbled. "Do you know who the top contenders are?"
"I don't really follow the gossip," Mizu said. "But Hari…"
"What? Why me?" Hari groaned.
"Please," Mizu smiled sweetly, "you're the queen of gossip. For me?"
Hari sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine."
She raised her fingers and began ticking off names. "They are all members of Sect affiliated Clans."
"First, Rokan Tai. Earth cultivator. Body like a fortress. Hits like a falling mountain."
"Sounds fun," Kira muttered, thinking of Kjell—but stronger.
"Saelin Vos. Blood Qi. Creepy bastard. Drains stamina. Don't let the fight drag on."
Kira's face paled a bit.
"Zei Ren," Hari continued. "Illusion user. Makes you swing at air while he carves you up."
Kira scowled.
"Nira Vel. Beast contract cultivator. Phoenix soul. Fire everywhere. Stylish and vicious."
Kira buried her face in her hands.
"How am I supposed to beat any of them…?" she whispered.
"There are always underdogs," Hari added with a shrug. "But no one knows them until the tournament ends."
"Thanks," Kira said, unable to hide the despair in her voice.
"I'm dead," she thought. "If not by their hands, then by hers."
"I have two more questions. Then I'll leave."
She hesitated. "Do you know a female elder with white hair that reaches beneath her feet?"
Hari blinked, then frowned. "That sounds like Liora… the Pale Blade. She's the peak elder of the Fourth Peak—Falling Petal Peak. Head of the sect's enforcers. The Thorn Guard."
Kira's stomach dropped.
She had pissed off that woman?
There was nothing she could do about it now. She pulled out the pill bottle.
"Do you know what these are?"
Mizu took it and inspected the contents. "Nourishment pills. Great for vitality. One of these and you won't need to eat for days. Combined with cultivation, they help significantly with body refinement. They're not rare, but not cheap either. How did you get them?"
"Let's just say… I got them through an unfortunate encounter."
"Unfortunate?" Mizu echoed, eyes narrowing.
"Thanks again," Kira said, rising to her feet and walking toward the door.
Before stepping out, she turned back.
"I really had a great day last time," she said, looking at Mizu. "Thank you."
Then Kira disappeared into the rainy night.