[17th June]
{Gravion's POV}
The stadium hall buzzed with noise.
Voices.
Footsteps.
Fragments of victory and defeat mix into one restless tide.
Gravion stood near the side corridor—
Waiting.
His eyes remained calm.
Unreadable.
But his mind wasn't.
'Davin should be done by now.'
A few seconds later—
The doors opened.
And there he was.
Davin walked out, stretching his arms with a careless grin.
"Man… that was boring."
Gravion let out a faint breath.
"…You say that after every match."
Davin shrugged.
"Because it's true."
He rubbed his stomach next.
"More importantly… I'm starving."
Gravion turned.
"Then let's go."
Simple.
Both of them moved toward the exit.
But just as they reached the main gate—
A figure stood there.
Waiting.
Gravion's steps slowed slightly.
'…Her.'
Marin.
One of the top geniuses of the tournament.
The Ice Elementalist.
She stood straight, composed—
Yet her eyes betrayed a faint hesitation.
As if she had been waiting.
For them.
Gravion stepped forward to pass—
But she moved.
Blocking both him and Davin.
A brief silence fell.
Gravion's lips almost curved.
'Got you.'
But on the surface—
His face turned cold.
"What do you want?"
His voice was flat.
Direct.
Marin flinched—just slightly.
"I… want to ask you something."
Her tone lacked its usual sharpness.
That alone said enough.
Gravion's mind moved fast.
'Hooked already.'
Good.
"Then ask."
"…Not here."
A pause.
Davin groaned behind him.
"Can we not do this right now…?"
He stepped forward, looking between them.
"I'm dying here."
Gravion glanced at him—
Then back at Marin.
"…We don't have time to stand around."
He spoke casually.
"If it's that important—come with us."
A beat.
"We're heading to eat anyway."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Right, Davin?"
Davin didn't even think.
"Yeah, whatever. Just make it quick."
He rubbed his stomach again.
"Food first. Everything else later."
Gravion extended his hand toward Marin.
"So?"
A moment passed.
Marin looked at his hand—
Then at his face.
Her cheeks tinted faintly.
"…Fine."
She slapped his hand away.
"But don't misunderstand anything."
Gravion didn't react.
Just turned and started walking.
"Good."
And just like that—
Three of them left together.
The streets outside were alive.
Overflowing.
Almost every place was packed.
Crowds from the tournament had filled the city like a wave.
Restaurant after restaurant—
Full.
Reserved.
Unavailable.
Davin's complaints grew louder with each rejection.
"…At this rate, I'm gonna collapse."
Marin walked quietly beside them.
Still composed—
But no longer distant.
And that alone—
Was progress.
Gravion noticed.
Every small shift.
Every hesitation in her tone.
Every question she wanted to ask—
But held back.
'Good.'
The more time they spent like this—
The easier it became.
He let the silence stretch.
Let her settle.
Let her open up naturally.
And as he walked—
His gaze drifted.
Not outward.
But inward.
Toward something only he could see and feel.
The past.
Davin walked ahead—
Still complaining.
Still casual.
And yet—
Gravion's eyes softened slightly.
'Davin…'
The Spear Prodigy of the present.
But in the future—
A monster.
No—
Something far worse.
The Demon Spear.
A name carved in blood.
A ranker who tore through waves of monsters alone.
A man who didn't distinguish between enemy and prey—
Human or beast.
Only what stood in his way.
His aura alone—
Was enough to suffocate people.
So dense.
So violent—
That even his own allies feared him.
And yet—
That wasn't how it began.
Gravion's gaze dimmed.
'He was thrown away.'
Discarded.
Mocked as useless.
A bottomless feeder.
No talent.
No future.
Until he forced one.
He rose—
But too late.
Too slow.
Never reaching what he truly could have been.
Just a brief light—
Before the end.
Gravion still remembered it.
The final battlefield.
A Calamity-class Beast.
Humanity on the edge.
And Davin—
Standing alone.
Fighting.
Bleeding.
Laughing.
Until he died.
A hero.
A true one.
And yet—
Forgotten.
Time washed him away like he meant nothing.
Gravion's fingers tightened slightly.
'Not this time.'
His gaze sharpened.
'I'll drag you to the peak myself.'
His eyes shifted.
To the girl walking beside him.
Marin.
Quiet.
Observing.
Unaware.
Gravion's expression changed.
Not softer.
But deeper.
'Her fate… was even worse.'
Because he knew.
He remembered.
Who she would become.
The Walking Disaster.
A calamity wrapped in ice.
A woman who drowned entire battlefields—
In frozen death.
A villain.
One of the worst.
An enemy of humanity.
And yet—
Gravion's eyes lingered on her face.
Her current self.
Hesitant.
Reserved.
"…How?"
The thought came naturally.
'How does this turn into that?'
It never made sense.
Even back then.
But it didn't change the outcome.
She fell.
And when she did—
She fell completely.
The name she earned—
Witch of Ice & Death.
A being who crossed beyond the mortal realm.
A disaster that lasted years.
Until—
She was hunted.
Cornered.
Killed.
Gravion still remembered that day.
Not the battle.
But the end.
She cried.
Not like a monster.
Not like a villain.
Like a child.
Begging.
For one more chance.
To fix everything.
But there were no second chances.
Not in that world.
His gaze hardened.
'But this isn't that world.'
Not anymore.
This time—
He reached her early.
Before the fall.
Before the cracks deepened.
Before she met—
Aria Frostheart.
The one person she could never surpass.
The wall she broke herself against.
Again.
And again.
Until she shattered.
'This time… I'll change that too.'
Because Marin—
Had potential.
Terrifying potential.
Power that could freeze oceans.
Power that could rival even Aria.
If—
She was built right.
And right now—
She wasn't.
Gravion glanced at her.
"…Your qi circulation is unstable."
Marin stopped.
"…What?"
Her eyes widened slightly.
Gravion continued walking.
"For someone with your output… your control is crude."
A pause.
"You're wasting more than half your qi."
Silence.
Then—
"…That's not possible."
But her voice—
Wavered.
Gravion didn't stop.
"Your meridians aren't aligned properly during release."
"Your flow spikes instead of sustaining."
"That's why your reserves drain so fast."
Each word—
Precise.
Targeted.
Marin's steps slowed.
Her breathing shifted.
"…How do you—"
Gravion cut her off.
"If you refine your circulation before release—"
"Anchor the flow instead of forcing it—"
"You'll retain at least fifty percent more qi."
He spoke it like a fact.
Not theory.
Not guesswork.
Truth.
Marin froze completely now.
Because she knew.
He's right.
Her eyes locked onto him.
"…Who are you?"
Gravion didn't answer.
Just walked ahead.
Calm.
Unbothered.
'Hook set deeper.'
Behind him—
Marin followed.
Closer than before.
Curiosity burning through her restraint.
Exactly as he wanted.
Gravion's lips curved slightly.
'You're not escaping this path anymore.'
Not in this life.
Marin was still confused, so she didn't let him go, leaving her curious.
"…How do you even know all this?"
Marin's voice followed him—
Again.
And again.
Gravion didn't stop walking.
"You're asking the same question."
"That's because you're not answering it."
Her tone sharpened slightly.
Davin glanced between them—
Then sighed.
"…Can we argue after we eat?"
He looked around desperately.
"Everything's full. This is torture."
Marin ignored him.
Her eyes stayed locked on Gravion.
"You pointed out flaws even my instructors never mentioned."
A step closer.
"Meridian misalignment… inefficient circulation…"
Her voice lowered.
"…That's not something you just guess."
Gravion finally slowed.
Just a little.
Then—
Spoke.
"Because you're forcing power."
Simple.
"You release before stabilising."
"You spike your qi instead of sustaining it."
"You fight like you're trying to overwhelm—"
"Not control."
Each word landed clean.
Precise.
Marin's breath hitched.
Because she knew—
He wasn't wrong.
"…Then how do I fix it?"
There it was.
The shift.
From doubt—
To need.
Gravion's gaze flicked toward her.
Hooked deeper.
"Slow your release."
"Anchor the flow before output."
"Let the qi move with you… not ahead of you."
He didn't elaborate further.
Didn't explain fully.
Just enough.
Always just enough.
Marin fell silent.
Thinking.
Adjusting it in her mind.
Testing it against her own experience.
And the more she thought—
The clearer it became.
"…That would reduce the drain…"
"…and stabilize output…"
Her eyes widened slightly.
"…More than fifty percent…"
Gravion didn't respond.
He didn't need to.
Because now—
She was walking closer.
Not beside.
Closer.
Exactly where he wanted her.
"Finally—"
Davin suddenly pointed ahead.
"A place that isn't packed!"
A café.
Slightly distant from the stadium crowds.
Less noise.
Less chaos.
Gravion glanced at it—
Then nodded.
"Good enough."
They stepped in.
The interior was calm.
Clean.
Refined.
Not crowded.
For once.
A manager hurried over the moment they entered.
His eyes immediately went to Marin.
Her posture.
Her clothes.
Her presence.
His expression shifted.
Respect.
"Welcome, miss."
A slight bow.
"Your reservation is ready."
Marin frowned slightly.
"…Reservation?"
Gravion stepped forward.
"No reservation."
"We just need a table."
The manager's expression stiffened.
"…I'm afraid that won't be possible."
"All tables are reserved."
Davin's face dropped.
"You've got to be kidding me…"
Gravion's gaze shifted.
Subtle.
His vision sharpened.
Enhanced.
And there—
Outside.
Through the glass.
Several empty tables in the lawn area.
"…Those are empty."
He pointed.
The manager didn't even look.
"They are reserved."
Flat.
Dismissive.
Gravion's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…I see."
And then—
The door opened again.
Footsteps echoed in.
Heavy.
Confident.
Unwelcome.
Davin's expression changed instantly.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Gravion didn't need to turn.
He already knew.
'Of course, it's them.'
The same group.
The ones who mocked Davin before.
Laughter came first.
Then voices.
Then—
Recognition.
"Well, well…"
One of them stepped forward.
"That trash again?"
Davin's jaw tightened.
The air shifted.
Subtle.
But dangerous.
The noble's gaze slid toward Gravion—
Then Marin.
And paused.
"…Oh?"
A smirk.
"Didn't expect to see someone like you here."
Marin didn't respond.
Didn't even look at him.
Which—
Only made it worse.
The noble chuckled.
"Manager."
His tone changed instantly.
Sharp.
"Why are they still here?"
The manager straightened.
"…They were just leaving—"
"We don't want to share space with them."
A pause.
"Throw them out."
Silence.
Davin stepped forward.
"…Say that again."
His voice was low.
Too low.
For a moment—
The air felt heavier.
Like something violent had surfaced… then disappeared.
The noble awkwardly smirked.
"I said—"
"Throw. Them. Out."
The words dropped like stones.
The manager hesitated—
Then turned toward Gravion.
"…Sir, I'll have to ask you to leave."
Gravion stared at him.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Just—
Cold.
"…Because?"
The manager avoided his eyes.
"…These tables are reserved for nobles."
A beat.
Davin laughed.
Short.
Sharp.
"So that's how it is."
Marin moved.
Just one step forward.
And everything—
Changed.
The temperature dropped.
Not drastically.
But enough.
Enough for everyone to feel it.
"I believe,"
Her voice was calm.
"But firm."
"You're making a mistake."
The manager froze.
The noble frowned.
"…And you are?"
Marin's gaze finally met his.
Cold.
Unyielding.
"I suggest you check properly."
A pause.
Something in her tone—
Made the manager hesitate.
He pulled out his device.
Checked.
Again.
His expression changed.
Colour draining.
"…This… this section…"
His voice faltered.
"Is assigned under noble reservation priority…"
He looked up.
At Marin.
Then back at the nobles.
Then again.
Realisation hit.
Hard.
The noble's smirk faded.
"…What are you implying?"
Marin didn't raise her voice.
Didn't move.
"You're the ones without claim here."
Because the manager just received a message that the entire Noble section area was booked by the girl standing in front of him.
Silence.
Heavy.
Crushing.
Davin let out a slow breath.
"…That's what I thought."
Gravion watched.
Quiet.
Observing.
Calculating.
Perfect.
The noble's jaw tightened.
For a moment—
It looked like he might push it further.
Might escalate.
But then—
He stepped back while gritting his teeth.
"…This isn't over."
Gravion finally spoke.
"It rarely is."
Calm.
Almost bored.
They left.
Not by choice.
But without a fight.
The door shut behind them.
And the tension—
Collapsed.
The manager turned instantly.
Apologizing.
Bowing repeatedly.
Sweating.
Gravion waved him off.
"Just bring the food."
Davin dropped into his seat.
"…Finally."
Marin remained standing for a second longer.
Then sat.
Her eyes—
Still on Gravion.
"…You knew."
Gravion picked up the menu.
"I guessed."
A lie.
A clean one.
Marin didn't believe it.
Not even for a second.
The meal passed.
Calm.
But not empty.
Something had shifted.
Lines drawn.
Positions understood.
And when their phones buzzed—
All three looked down.
A notification.
Second round.
About to begin.
Davin stood immediately.
"Let's go."
Marin followed.
Silent.
Thinking.
Gravion stepped out last.
His gaze steady.
The tournament was moving forward.
And so was everything else.
'Raviel Ashcroft…
You're not the only one hiding things.'
Because this time—
He knew.
There were more.
Many more.
And he—
Was ready for all of them.