The Mercy Deck reset fast.
That was one thing Magnara never played with.
The second the last match cleared, crews in navy and gunmetal flooded the field. Broken debris got swept in practiced lines. Blood was washed off in glowing streams. Burn marks got sanded down. Loose stone was pressed back into place by workers using deck tools and low-grade Earth Muti like they'd done it a thousand times before.
Above them, the raised display lines dimmed.
The worked surfaces folded away.
The dressed-up trial face of the deck smoothed itself back down into what the Grand Amphistad really was underneath all the spectacle—
plain, flat, hard stone.
Clean.
Brutal.
Honest.
The kind of surface that didn't care who bled on it next.
Then the Oath Dais lit again.
The Oathmaster rose.
Cloak pinned with the Congress seal. Silver at the temples. Smile sharp enough to command a city if he felt like it.
He lifted one hand.
"Silence."
The word rang out pure through the Colos-Lens.
The lower tiers faltered.
He raised his hand higher.
"Silence."
The second strike folded across the mid-bowl. Banner lines settled. The stomp and shout dropped another level.
Then his voice hit the sky.
"SILENCE."
The Grand Amphistad obeyed.
Not fully.
But enough.
Enough that the hush itself felt heavy.
The Oathmaster smiled into it.
"I know," he said, voice rich and warm and somehow landing in every seat at once, "we have witnessed greatness this morning."
The crowd started to build again.
He let it.
"Mainly by the leaders of this tournament—Kai Xander, Aria Flamehart, Rin Kairo, and Lila Butters—"
The Amphistad exploded.
The lower decks stamped.
The upper tiers shook.
Hands slammed rails. Boots hammered stone. Voices crashed together so loud the whole stadium seemed to answer.
"SQUAD THREE!"
"SQUAD THREE!"
"SQUAD THREE!"
Outside the main bowl, down one of the departure lanes, William and the others heard it through the mounted speaker-horns as they moved toward their carriage.
Lila's eyes widened.
Then widened more.
Then she grabbed her own face.
"Woo!" she yelled. "I'm famous!"
Kai laughed.
Aria pointed at her. "You were already famous."
"Not like this!"
Rin, still bandaged and fully exhausted by life, kept walking. "Please stop rewarding her."
Too late.
A nearby crowd spotted them.
Then recognized them.
Then way too many people recognized them.
"Oh gods—that's them!"
"That's Squad Three!"
"Lila!"
"Kai!"
"Aria!"
"Rin!"
A whole knot of fans started rushing the carriage.
William took one look at the growing wave of people, then leaned calmly toward the driver.
"Time to go."
Back in the arena, the Oathmaster chuckled and let the chant run a little longer before lifting two fingers.
The noise dropped.
"That was deserved," he said, smiling wider now. "And dangerous."
The crowd laughed with him.
He spread one hand toward the reset stone field.
"But we are not done yet."
That pulled them back in.
His voice rolled larger.
"The Trial by Mercy does not belong to four names alone."
Now the crowd quieted with real attention.
"It belongs to every Seeker willing to stake breath, pride, and future under this second sun."
He turned toward the left tunnel.
"And now—let us witness two more rookies place their names upon the ledger."
Heat rolled out of the left tunnel before the fighter even appeared.
"Hailing from the south of Janoah—"
The arena lights caught orange.
"Coming from the great Flame family, bearers of the Janoahian Arc Sigil Tower—"
The crowd leaned in.
"I give you—"
A burst of fire snapped from the tunnel mouth.
"REGGIE FURIYO!"
Reggie stepped into the light grinning like the whole moment had been waiting on him.
Flames danced off his fingers in rough snapping bursts. Not elegant. Not polished. Hot-blooded fire. The kind that looked like it listened to his temper before it listened to him. He rolled one shoulder. Cracked his neck. Then dragged two burning fingers through the air like he was signing his name across the whole damn Amphistad.
The crowd loved it.
He loved that they loved it.
Nah. Not today.
His grin sharpened.
I'm not letting Squad Three take all the damn shine.
He stepped into the open with his fists already heating.
This is mine too.
The Oathmaster let the cheers rise, then turned toward the opposite tunnel.
"And his opponent—"
His voice changed just enough.
Not smaller.
Cleaner.
Cooler.
"Hailing from the great lands of Britannia—"
The opposite tunnel stayed calm.
Composed.
"From the elegant House Roses—"
Now the crowd's interest shifted. Less heat. More curiosity.
"The beautiful—SOFIA ROSES!"
Sofia stepped into the light like she had all the time in the world.
Blue hair.
Straight posture.
A quiet little smile.
Not loud confidence.
Worse.
Real confidence.
The kind that didn't need to announce itself because it had already arrived.
She took in the size of the Grand Amphistad—the lights, the screaming tiers, the sheer impossible scale of Janoah's monster arena—and a tiny laugh slipped out.
So this is Janoah's great Amphistad.
Her smile deepened.
This is unreal.
Her fingers brushed the satchel at her side where paper, charcoal, folded slips, and drawn preparations waited.
I get to show my art at its fullest.
She giggled softly to herself and kept walking.
Reggie watched her the whole way in.
The smile.
The calm.
The fact she looked way too happy for someone about to fight him.
His fist curled.
Flame ran harder up his arm.
"Why you smiling so much," he called across the deck, "knowing you're about to lose to a great flame bearer in the making?"
The crowd gave a loud oooh.
Sofia looked at him.
Then giggled again.
That made it worse.
Not mocking.
Not scared.
Just completely unbothered.
"Why should I stop smiling?" she asked, Britannian accent smooth and precise. "Or be scared of someone who's lesser than my art?"
That landed.
Reggie's grin twitched.
The crowd reacted instantly.
Sofia lifted one finger and traced a tiny line in the air like she was already sketching his loss into place.
"Beauty," she said, smiling at him, "is in the eye of the beholder."
Then her eyes met his.
"And I've already drawn my victory."
That pissed Reggie off immediately.
His whole fist caught harder.
Flames ran hotter up both forearms.
The grin didn't leave.
It got meaner.
"You talk pretty," he said.
He stepped forward.
"Hope you fight prettier than that."
The Oathmaster laughed softly from the dais.
"Oh, this one has teeth."
That got another laugh from the crowd and somehow made the tension worse.
Then Hillary Black stepped onto the plain stone field, official coat sharp, posture straight, gold-rank authority sitting on him naturally.
He walked to center.
Looked to Sofia first.
"Ready?"
Sofia gave one small nod.
"Yes."
Hillary turned to Reggie.
"Ready?"
Reggie's fire surged hotter around his fists.
His smile flashed wide.
"Hell yeah."
Hillary stepped back.
Raised one hand.
The whole Amphistad leaned in.
"Begin."