The Transmigrated Author

Chapter 108: If It All Ended Tomorrow (4)

[Pinnacle Academy, Stadium 1 - Arena A: Media Sector]

"Master? Did you lose connection again?" Kayn's voice, tinny and laced with static, crackled through Morwen's earpiece.

He slipped away from the media frenzy and into a secluded corner.

"Yes. Seems I need to move down further for a stable signal."

Morwen's voice held a hint of annoyance.

"So, how did it go? The match highlights don't come out to the world until a few weeks after, you know,"

Kayn pressed a tremor of excitement in his tone.

"As expected. The vessel is impressive," Morwen revealed.

"To earn the title 'Sword Saint' a few years after Jianna had passed… that's not an easy feat, even for someone of her lineage."

"For praise like that, she must've been amazing! Guess you only have eyes for the best, Master!"

hmph...

Morwen's response was a dismissive grunt.

"Any other standouts?" Kayn asked.

He paused for a moment to think, "Her opponent…" Morwen let the word hang, a sneer in his voice.

"He was nothing impressive. At best, just an ordinary archer in my eyes."

"Ordinary? How so?"

Morwen grunted once more, a dark sound in the confined space.

"He's inconsistent. Disorganized. And somehow things have a way of... working out in his favour. It's irritating."

Kayn noticing Morwen's frustration changed the subject to a more important topic at hand.

"So...when do you think the time will be right?"

"..."

Morwen threw a wary glance around the media section, then leaned in, his voice barely a whisper.

"Hmm... If I could capture her before the finals it would be amazing. Still, I'm under the suspicion that someone's protecting her movements... really damn well."

"So, after the finals, then?"

Morwen nodded. "It appears so."

***

[Pinnacle Academy, Stadium 1 - Arena A: Allen's Cafe]

[Wednesday, 5:00 PM]

[30 minutes before the finals...]

"Seriously, what is WRONG with you two?"

Bazz exploded, finger jabbing accusatorily at Jan.

"...?"

Jan blinked, his gaze flicking from his plate of pastries to Bazz's exasperated expression.

"Hey now, just enjoying a pre-match snack, is all."

Bazz turned to Valencia, who was munching on a croissant with concerning serenity.

"And YOU! Shouldn't you be, like, hyped or something? A rematch this huge, it's insane! Where's the trash talk? The rivalry?"

He threw his hands up. "Instead, we get a tea party before the—"

Splash!

Lyra, the golden retriever of the group, "accidentally" tipped her glass of water.

Bazz sputtered, dripping.

"Whoops!" Lyra chirped, trying to keep herself from laughing, keeping that mischievous look in her eyes.

"What was that for?!"

"You were bothering everyone," Camila chimed in, an amused smile playing on her lips.

"You should relax." She held out a napkin. "Besides, finals are no reason to lose your head."

Bazz snatched the napkin. "But, but…"

Jan patted his shoulder with exaggerated sympathy.

"Honestly, Bazz, relax! You don't see the fuss, do you, Val?"

Valencia shrugged, taking another bite.

"Just another spar, right? Not like it's the World Championships."

Defeated, Bazz buried his face in his hands.

Lyra giggled, handing him another fresh napkin.

"Why am I even friends with any of you…"

Changing the subject to another topic Camila spoke.

"So, Jan, what was it like inside that fancy barrier with Louise? No one got a glimpse of that fight."

Jan shrugged nonchalantly, "Let's just say...he had the home-field advantage. Louise was absolutely handing it to me in there."

He scratched his head sheepishly. "Not my finest hour, that's for sure. But hey,"

He nudged Valencia with a playful grin.

"...you should probably ask Miss 'Sword Saint' over here about how amazing her round was."

A crease appeared between Valencia's brows as she took another bite of her croissant.

"Come on, you guys saw the fight already." A feeling of unease, a memory of Rel's forfeit, tugged at her, but she pushed it down.

Camila nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Yep. Though Lyra here was convinced you were about to lose."

Lyra yelped, instantly turning crimson. "I d-don't know what you mean!"

Bazz, seizing the opportunity for chaos, materialized a video recording on his watch.

"Oh? Then what's this?" It showed a sobbing Lyra wailing,

- "I can't watch this!"ahh!"

Feeling high and mighty, he watched Lyra squirm in panic...

FLICK!

Suddenly out of nowhere, Jan sent him tumbling from his chair.

"Ouch! Why am I the punching bag today?!"

"Hm... I wonder why?" Jan smirked at Bazz with a mischievous look.

pffft...

A genuine laugh escaped Valencia's lips.

This chaotic energy, was familiar, comforting in its own way.

She watched her friends, muttering half to herself.

"I guess some things never change."

BZZZT!...BZZZT!....BZZZT!!!

A synchronized buzz echoed.

Both Jan and Valencia checked their watches, the identical notification flashing,

[Finals commencement:]

[Report to your respective tunnels immediately.]

Jan met Valencia's eyes, a spark igniting between them.

"Guess it's time, huh?" His voice held a mix of excitement and a familiar warmth.

"Right…" Valencia's tone was more hesitant, the echo of Rel's forfeit still remaining at the edge of her mind.

Jan seemed to sense the shift.

"The others should probably find their seats now." He gestured towards their friends with a grin.

Bazz, wanted all the smoke with Jan, speaking once more,

"Hah! No one wants to see y—"

FLICK!

Another flick to his forehead.

Bazz, with an anguished cry of "Not again!", collapsed to the floor rolling side to side.

Camila jumped towards Valencia hugging her tightly.

"Good luck, Val! I'll be rooting for you…maybe." The last word was a mischievous whisper.

"Thanks," Valencia smiled softly, startled. "Wait, what?"

Lyra cut in, enveloping Valencia in a suffocating hug.

"Win or lose, I'm proud of you!"

Valencia, struggling to breathe, finally managed to push Lyra off.

"Thanks, but… let go."

Then finally, she met Jan's gaze, determination replacing the momentary doubt.

"As for you… let's settle this. I hope you've been keeping count."

A grin spread across Jan's face.

"Of course. Eight years of practice battles, and somehow you always manage to snag a draw. Zero wins, zero losses, ninety-nine draws so far."

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To Be Continued...

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Authors Notes:

- For power scaling purposes, yes Jan and Valencia are equal when Jan doesn't use Divine Conqueror.