Boris stood like a statue, his eyes glued to Azuma. The boy was perched on top of a massive pile of black, chewed-up rubble. The air was thick and tasted of sharp ozone and sour, crushed stone. The sudden silence of the cave made the ringing in Boris’s ears feel like a physical weight. Up there, Azuma looked down at the mess with a calm that felt heavy and wrong.

  "What... why... how..." Boris’s voice cracked. The words felt small against the devastation in front of him.

  "Boris? You okay? You want some water or something?" Valerian’s voice was steady and totally unbothered.

  Boris just nodded like a machine, his gaze never moving from the ruins. He took the offered canteen and gulped the water down. His hand shook just enough that some of it spilled onto his chin—a messy slip for someone usually so composed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and finally pointed at the center of the wreckage. "What the hell happened?"

  Valerian watched him, a tiny, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He tilted his head slightly, a look of pure fatherly pride in his eyes.

  "A formation of that size, Boris, needs a lot of juice," Valerian explained, his voice smooth and measured. "I didn't give azuma enough Heart Stones to waste on a long fight. Since the power ran out, the walls got weak. They couldn't hold themselves up anymore."

  Boris’s eyes went wide as he traced the jagged lines of the destruction. "So... the maze falling apart was an accident? Just a side effect of running out of energy?"

  Valerian’s smile grew, but his eyes stayed chillingly still. "Actually, Boris, I think this total ruin was exactly what he wanted. My boy just found a beautifully efficient way to break the problem."

  Boris swallowed hard. The water didn't help the cold spike of anxiety rising in his chest. "WHY?"

  Valerian’s smile turned into a look of triumph. "Azuma saw the weak spots. He used them. First, he isolated Coby—he knew that snake was already jumpy from the last match and would freak out if he felt trapped. Second, he somehow broke Rufe’s focus. I don't know exactly how he did it, but he snapped Rufe’s mental grip on the serpent for just a second. That white light—the one from Coby’s last loss—showed up right as the walls started to fail. Without Rufe there to hold the leash, the snake just went into a blind frenzy."

  Valerian narrowed his eyes, piecing the rest together with a look of deep concentration. "The rampage was the plan. Coby thrashed against the weak walls, starting a chain reaction. The whole place came down, taking out the guards and the snake at the same time."

  Boris felt a sharp, cold hit of shock. His heart hammered against his ribs as he realised the level of genius coming from a five-year-old.

  "Of course, that’s just my guess," Valerian said with a shrug, though the pride in his eyes said otherwise. He smiled, a warm look radiating from him. "On raw strength alone, he’s got no shot. But power doesn't win every fight. It’s the intelligence behind that power that matters. And Azuma..." Valerian paused, his eyes gleaming. "Azuma is that kind of child."

  Boris looked from Valerian’s proud face to the silent, ruined arena. "So it's over?"

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  Valerian let out a short, ringing laugh. "Hahaha. If only life were that simple."

  As if Valerian had called them, two shapes exploded out of the settling dust. Dhruba hauled himself free of the rocks, his body tensing into a defensive stance. He was covered in grey grit, the dust mixing with the grime on his skin. He had clearly used his own body as a shield. Anya followed, brushing stone chips off her dark uniform. Both were breathing hard, their skin stung by the collapse.

  Dhruba’s chest heaved. "Dammit... that brat gets harder to deal with every time. If we lose tonight, how are we supposed to look his mother in the eye?" He turned to his partner. "Anya, you okay? Can you move?"

  "I’m fine. We need to find the boy. This collapse... I don't think it was an accident." She stopped, her eyes locking onto something in the wreckage. "Dhruba, look! It’s Coby!"

  They scrambled toward the massive snake. Coby was in a bad way—beaten, bloody, and breathing in shallow hitches. His scales were torn away in jagged patches. Rufe and Vikram were slumped nearby, totally out of it. Rufe’s fingers were twitching as he reached out, his pale hand trembling until it found the cool, torn scales of the serpent. He ran his palm over Coby’s side in a slow, rhythmic caress, as if trying to soothe a nightmare, while his face stayed tight with the effort of finding that broken mental link to stop the snake from going wild again.

  Anya moved with practiced speed. She tore the white patches off Vikram and Rufe’s uniforms—the sign they were done—and grabbed the recovery pills hidden inside. She fed them to the trio. As the medicine worked, Coby’s breathing slowed into a deep, healing sleep.

  "Three out of five neutralized. Guess the maze worked pretty well. You okay, Aunty?" Azuma’s voice drifted down from the debris.

  Dhruba’s head snapped toward the sound. Azuma was sitting on top of a mountain of broken stone, casually swinging his small legs. It was the sight of him that made Dhruba’s blood boil—everyone else was covered in choking dust and filth, but Azuma didn't have a single speck of dirt on his clothes. Not one.

  Dhruba’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his weapon. He took a slow, heavy step forward. "The kid isn't even scratched, Anya," he growled, his voice a low snarl. "He meant for those walls to fall." The shame of being outplayed by a child was starting to sting more than the cuts on his arms.

  Dhruba raised a shaking hand, his voice thick with fury. "I’ve never known defeat! I’m not losing today, especially not to a little scrub like you!"

  He began to walk toward the boy, his steps heavy and deliberate. Each boot-thud on the pulverized stone sounded like a drumbeat. His face was twisted with a desperate, quiet fury that made his jaw ache.

  "Dhruba, wait!" Anya grabbed his arm, her face serious. She looked at the wreckage, then back at Azuma. "The formation was dangerous. Coby almost died. You went too far, kid."

  Azuma sat up a little straighter. His voice was flat, no apology in it at all. "Monsters need blood lessons, Aunty. You know the trials that draw blood are the ones that make you grow. Coby will be fine. Besides, Rufe and Coby needed a reset on their relationship anyway." He held up a scrap of dark cloth.

  "Enough, Anya. Let’s finish this," Dhruba said, his voice dropping to a cold, hard edge as he moved past her.

  "Yeah, let’s," Azuma replied.

  He hopped down from his perch with a quick, easy jump. His feet hit the pulverized stone, but not a single grain of dust kicked up when he landed. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, Azuma tied the cloth around his eyes, blindfolding himself.

  Dhruba felt the insult like a slap. He didn't think; he just lunged. His anger wiped out any strategy he had left as he sprinted forward. Anya’s eyes went wide—not because Dhruba was being reckless, but because a cold, terrifying feeling hit her. This wasn't a kid being cocky. It was a trap.

  She tried to reach for Dhruba, but she was too slow. She followed after him, hoping to catch him before he tripped whatever Azuma had set. As she ran, her boot scuffed against something hard—a single, massive scale torn from Coby’s body.

  The moment her foot touched it, a jolt of pure terror shot through her brain. Before she could even scream, the world vanished.

  Heavy, suffocating darkness swallowed everything. The light didn't just fade; it was snuffed out with an absolute finality.

  "Third Formation activated," Azuma’s small voice echoed out of the pitch-black void.