Ahrie and the rest left the temple…

Immediately, they were greeted by their horse standing proudly near the entrance.

Ahrie smirked and blurted out the most ridiculous insult he could think of.

"Oh… you're still here, useless horse."

The horse's ears twitched. It stomped the ground, snorted furiously, and lunged forward, nearly biting Ahrie's sleeve.

Ahrie's expression shifted—annoyance flaring. He slammed his hand against the horse's mouth, gripping its snout tight.

"You should train your freaking self instead of sitting here waiting like a dog!" he barked

The horse's nostrils flared. It yanked its head free, eyes blazing with something close to defiance.

For a moment, neither moved—just staring each other down like two stubborn idiots in a silent showdown.

Koko stepped between them with an exhausted sigh. "You two are unbelievable…"

With that, they continued down the busy streets—Ahrie still grumbling under his breath while the horse followed, smugly flicking its tail at him every few steps.

One by one, they went from forge to forge—each blacksmith giving the same answer.

"Sorry, kid… this thing's beyond saving."

By the fifth shop, Min had stopped hoping. The small, battered shield hung loosely in his hands, its edge cracked, the surface dented beyond recognition.

When they entered the final blacksmith's shop, the air was thick with heat and the smell of burnt metal.

"Oii… can you fix this?" Ahrie asked, setting the shield on the counter.

The blacksmith squinted, then blinked. "Eh?... sorry, kiddo. There's no way anyone can fix this shield of yours."

But as he picked it up for a closer look, his face shifted. His eyes narrowed with surprise.

"...Which one of you owns this?"

Min raised his hand.

The man went silent. "This… isn't yours, is it? Came from a friend?"

Min hesitated, then nodded.

The blacksmith exhaled through his nose, scratching his head. "Damn… tch.

Look—fixing it's impossible. But I can repurpose the metal. You want that?"

Min stared at the warped surface for a long time. The shield had protected him, once.

"…Make it a knife," he said quietly.

The man nodded without another word. Sparks flared. Metal screamed.

Minutes later, he handed Min a new blade—small, dark, and sharp, forged from what was left of the shield.

Min gripped it tightly. He gave a faint smile, almost like a goodbye, then strapped it to his back.

After they were done at the blacksmith, the group wandered through the bustling streets until the smell of food pulled them toward a nearby restaurant.

As they walked, Min's eyes caught something in the distance—a towering coliseum.

A group of Seekers rushed past them.

"Quick! We need to register—the tournament's about to start!" one shouted.

"Tournament…" Min whispered under his breath. The word lingered, dragging out an old memory—his friend, the one who once wielded that shield. The same shield now reborn as a knife at his back.

"Tournaments, huh… like something like a 1v1. I would love to try that too… looks fun to do…"

Min clenched his fist.

"Tournaments, huh…" he muttered softly

Ahrie noticed and clapped him on the shoulder.

Min took one last look at the coliseum, then followed quietly.

They sat down.

Koko and Rocky instantly turned the restaurant into chaos.

Rocky pointed at every meal on the menu—meats, soups, desserts, even drinks.

Koko crossed his arms. "No. No. No. You'll get fat."

Rocky froze mid-gesture, stared at Koko… and then slammed his hands on the table, throwing a full-blown tantrum.

Meanwhile, Ahrie and Min sat quietly across from them. The noise felt distant,

Ahrie exhaled loudly, leaned back, and clasped his hands together like some wannabe mastermind.

"You're interested in that tournament."

Min's eyes widened. "How the fuck—?"

Ahrie tapped the side of his skull. "Psychic intuition. Or maybe your dumb face said it."

Min looked down. "Yeah… a little. But I don't have a shield."

Ahrie made the most disgusted face imaginable. "You don't even use a shield."

Before Min could reply, Koko returned to the table. "Orders are done. We just have to wait."

Min sighed, fingers brushing the knife strapped behind him. "That shield… used to be my friend's. He died. It was his dream to be one of the strongest tanks out there. I carried it… 'cause it felt like carrying him too."

Ahrie squinted. "Then just block with that knife."

Everyone froze.

Koko blinked. "Wait, what?"

Rocky tilted his head mid-tantrum.

Even Min was caught off-guard—then slowly, a small grin crept in.

"…That's not a bad idea."

They ate until their stomachs were ready to explode.

Plates piled up, Koko kept nagging about portion control, and Rocky looked like he was about to ascend from food heaven.

Between bites, Min leaned back and said, "I think I'll join that tournament… try out that thing—blocking with my knife."

Ahrie smirked immediately. "Then ask the leader first."

He pointed at Rocky with his thumb, grinning

Rocky froze mid-bite, looked around, then puffed his chest and gave a mighty nod.

"Thanks, Rocky," Min said with a small smile.

Rocky raised his hand in salute, nearly knocking over a cup.

Ahrie laughed, "Captain's orders then—guess we're heading to the arena after this."

They made their way through the busy streets of Velshara, winding past colorful market stalls, street performers, and the occasional guard patrolling the area. The massive coliseum loomed ahead, its arches stretching high into the sky, banners fluttering in the breeze. The sound of cheering and hammering echoes floated out from its gates, already giving a sense of anticipation for the tournament.

"What time does it start?" Min asked, his voice barely above a whisper, still a little nervous.

The receptionist, sitting behind a polished wooden counter, didn't look up at first. "What level are you?" she asked flatly.

"Level one," Min replied cautiously.

Her eyes flicked over him. "For level two and below, it'll start soon. Only a few contestant slots are left, so hurry if you want in."

Min's jaw tightened slightly, determination flickering in his eyes. "I see… then I'll join."

He walked toward the registration line, a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling inhis chest. Each step felt heavy, yet somehow lighter than the last—like he was walking toward something he had been waiting for without realizing it. Other contestants glanced at him curiously, whispering and sizing him up.

When it was finally his turn, he handed over his registration form and received a small token confirming his spot. He gave a thumbs-up to the receptionist, who raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further.

Koko and Ahrie, standing a few feet behind him, exchanged proud smiles. Koko whispered, "Look at him… he's really going for it."

Ahrie grinned, slapping Rocky on the back. "Yup. That's our tank—let's see what he can do."

Min straightened, gripping his knife and taking a deep breath, ready to face whatever the tournament had in store.

Ahrie dug into his pouch of coins and pulled out a handful of bronze coins, counting them carefully before handing them to Koko. "You know what to do," he said, his grin teasing.

Koko's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Hoho… leave it to me!" she replied, snatching the coins and immediately dashing off like a whirlwind, leaving a faint trail of chaotic energy in her wake.

Ahrie chuckled at her disappearing act, then turned to Min, giving him a casual wave.

Min gave a small nod, trying to focus despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach.

Ahrie, feeling the thrill of being on a mission, strode toward the other side of the coliseum, where another receptionist sat behind a sleek counter. He leaned forward with a sly grin and asked, "Do you happen to have an open slot for a healer?"

The receptionist's eyes widened at the perfect timing. "Oh, fantastic! We are actually short on healers right now," she replied, her tone bright and professional. "But we only accept licensed healers—no exceptions."

Without missing a beat, Ahrie shows his glowing healer license, holding it up for inspection. The receptionist studied it, then nodded approvingly. "Excellent. Head over to the registration desk over there, and you're all set."

Ahrie's grin widened, a hint of mischief and confidence dancing in his eyes. He adjusted his stance, almost theatrically, and muttered under his breath, "Mwehehe~ this is going to be fun." With that, he headed toward the healer registration desk

On the other side of the bustling coliseum, Koko made her way toward the betting area. The crowd was already thick with eager spectators, the air buzzing with chatter and the occasional laugh. She weaved through lines of people, her eyes scanning the large display screens where the brackets were soon to be revealed. The anticipation made her pulse quicken; the tournament was about to begin.

Moments later, the bracket flickered to life, illuminating the faces of all the contestants. Koko's eyes narrowed, a grin spreading across her face. Without hesitation, she slammed down her coins, betting everything she had on Ahrie. "There's no way he's losing," she muttered under her breath, the faint clink of coins echoing in the area.

Just then, Ahrie rounded a corner, moving toward the healer's standby area.

The two collided lightly, both of them caught slightly off guard.

"Oii! This way's the entrance!" Koko shouted, pointing toward the crowd-lined path that led to the main arena.

Ahrie held up a hand, signaling her to go ahead first. "Go on," he called.

Koko gave a playful salute and darted forward, slipping past the bustling spectators already imagining the excitement of the matches ahead.

Meanwhile, Ahrie headed to the designated area for healers. A few other licensed healers were already on standby, stretching and preparing, but his eyes stayed locked on the battlefield ahead. The thrill of being in the middle of all this, of supporting and shaping the fight, made his grin widen. He could almost feel the tension and excitement radiating off the arena—it was showtime.

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