The sun was setting, painting the sky a soft orange that filtered through the Storm Clan's windows.
Charles walked through the hallways, still in his black Warrior tunic with red stripes, though the bandages on his arms and chest reminded him of yesterday's fight.
His energy had crept up to 15% according to the system, but he still felt drained.
Lunch with Elyse had been a nice change, but he couldn't shake the feeling that drama always found him, no matter how hard he tried to dodge it.
'I just want one quiet day,' he thought, scratching the back of his neck as he neared Lira's room.
But he knew that hope was a long shot, especially with his step-sister involved.
When he reached the polished wooden door, he took a deep breath and knocked.
"Come in," Lira's voice called from the other side, dry and authoritative.
Charles pushed the door open and stepped inside, finding her seated at a desk cluttered with papers and a couple of fine-tipped quills.
'Oh… they cleaned up,' he thought, recalling the mess he'd left yesterday when he stormed out of Lira's room.
Lira was hunched over a document, brow furrowed in concentration.
Her black tunic was pristine, as if she hadn't spent a second in yesterday's rain.
Charles stood at the entrance, watching her for a moment.
"Hey, Lira," he said, crossing his arms. "What's with all the papers? Looks like you're running a whole kingdom."
Lira looked up, clearly annoyed by the interruption.
"Seriously, Rian?" she said, her tone a mix of irritation and sarcasm. "I'm in charge of managing the arena's funds. I make sure there's enough money for everything—gear, maintenance, prizes for fighters. And yeah, I also make sure the clan turns a profit. Satisfied?"
Charles raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by her answer.
"Damn," he said, a touch of curiosity in his voice. "So what does the clan spend all that cash on? Weapons? Training?"
Lira shot him a glare, her blue eyes narrowing.
"Mind your own business, Rian," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You don't need to know how we handle the funds. Just focus on not getting into more trouble. Rest, for once."
Charles let out a sigh, feeling the tension rise.
"Fine, fine," he said, raising his hands as if surrendering. "So why'd you call me here? If it's to keep chewing me out about yesterday, I already told you I didn't know the blood thing was an issue."
Lira set her quill down with a sharp motion and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
"Exactly, Rian," she said, her voice cutting. "That's the screw-up you pulled. You let those medics draw your blood without a second thought. Did it not occur to you that they could analyze it and figure out you can't control fire like the rest of the Coles? Or worse, suspect something about your… ability?"
'Shit, she's right,' Charles thought, recalling the moment the medic pricked his arm.
He hadn't thought much of it, but now that Lira brought it up, the idea of someone analyzing his blood…
"Wait," he said, frowning. "If that's true, isn't that good news? I mean, it could prove I can control lightning."
Lira let out a long sigh, clearly exasperated.
"Are you seriously sticking to that story, Rian?" she said, her tone blending disbelief and mockery. "No one controls lightning. You think I haven't considered that? Your little stunt in the arena is already raising eyebrows, and if someone digs into your blood and finds something weird, it won't just be Kain coming for you."
Charles opened his mouth to argue but stopped, caught off guard by her comment.
"Hold on," he said, raising a hand. "If no one can control lightning, then why the hell is this place called the Storm Clan? Aren't we supposed to be, like, storm experts or something?"
Lira rolled her eyes, clearly fed up.
"I didn't pick the damn name, Rian," she said, her tone flat. "The Storm Clan's called that because the Coles have historically controlled air and water—elements that dominate a storm. Not because anyone can control a freaking lightning bolt. So stop playing smart and get how serious this is."
Charles went quiet, processing her words.
'She's got a point,' he thought, scratching the back of his neck.
He hadn't thought about the clan's name that way, but it made sense now. Air and water were common among the Coles, but lightning… that was something else entirely.
And if his blood revealed anything about his affinity, he'd be in deep trouble.
"Alright," he said finally, his tone more serious. "So what do we do about the blood? How do we stop someone from analyzing it?"
Lira stared at him, thinking for a few seconds.
The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the faint rustle of papers on her desk.
"Pray they don't dig deeper," she said at last, her tone cold. "If they only checked your health like they claim, we're fine. But if someone decides to analyze your blood beyond that… there's not much we can do now. Just keep a low profile while you recover and don't pull any more stunts that draw attention."
'This is getting messy,' Charles thought.
But something else was bugging him, something he couldn't ignore.
"Hey, Lira…" he said, leaning forward. "Setting aside that cake stunt yesterday, why are you helping me so much? What's in it for you?"
Lira froze, her eyes locked on him.
For several seconds, she said nothing, and Charles felt a chill from the intensity of her stare.
"Is that a serious question?" she said finally, her tone mixing surprise and annoyance. "You really don't know why?"
Charles raised an eyebrow, confused.
"Uh… no, that's why I'm asking," he said, a hint of humor in his voice.
Lira looked away, turning her attention back to the papers on her desk.
"If you don't remember, that's your problem," she said, her tone flat and uninviting.
Charles frowned, thrown off.
'What the hell did she mean by that?' he thought.
Her response was so vague it left him spinning.
Was there something he wasn't remembering? Some past event that explained her attitude?
But before he could press, Lira spoke again, not even glancing at him.
"And speaking of yesterday…" she said, gesturing to his tunic with a wave of her hand. "I hope you didn't come here expecting some reward. You're already an arena fighter, aren't you? What more do you want?"
Charles snorted, crossing his arms.
Truth be told, he hadn't come for that.
He'd even forgotten about the deal they'd made days ago.
But to mess with her, he decided to play along.
"Yeah, sure, but I almost died, Lira," he said, his tone blending frustration and sarcasm. "I'm hoping for more than a fancy tunic. No cash prize or something? 'Cause risking my life wasn't exactly a walk in the park."
Lira let out a short laugh, clearly amused.
"That's how the arena works, Rian," she said, her tone mocking. "No cash prizes for Warriors. You survived, and that's more than most can say. But if you want some advice, start thinking about what's next. From now on, you'll have to fight in the arena at least once a week until the higher-ups approve your promotion to the next rank."
Charles blinked, caught off guard.
"Once a week?" he repeated, his tone incredulous.
Lira gave him a crooked smile.
"Get used to it," she said. "And one more thing: you should buy a weapon and practice with it. So far, you've faced unarmed opponents, but that won't last. The next ones might come with swords, spears, or worse. And if you ever get assigned a mission outside the clan, in the outside world, you'd better learn to dodge bullets."
"Bullets?" Charles said, frowning.
Lira nodded, her expression serious.
"The outside world isn't like the clan, Rian," she said. "There's technology, firearms, things you can't imagine. If you want to survive, you need to be ready. So instead of whining, go to the armory, pick something that works for you, and start training. Because if you keep relying on your… luck, you won't last long."
Charles went quiet, processing her words.
'Bullets? Seriously?' he thought, a knot forming in his stomach.
Obviously, he knew what guns were, but the idea of someone using them in a fight in this world…
'That's some no-honor nonsense,' he thought.
"Alright," he said finally, his tone more serious. "I'll think about it. But I still don't get why you care so much about me."
Lira sighed, turning back to her papers.
"Keep puzzling over that one, Rian," she said without looking up. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do. Close the door on your way out."
Charles shook his head, still a bit confused, but decided not to push it.
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