You Already Won

Jack ducked behind a crumbling wall, chest heaving in sharp, deliberate breaths. Each inhale scraped his ribs, sweat dripping from his jawline. That blue-haired, royal-robed freak wasn't supposed to be here.

"Low rank, my ass," he hissed under his breath.

He had fought real low-rank Rankers before. He was a Legendary Cadet, damn it. He'd chewed through tougher ones in past events. But this man? This thing? He was not one of them. Every instinct Jack had screamed the same word: run.

He dared to peek around the ruined edge of the wall—just a glimpse.

The entire building detonated.

BOOM.

The world ripped open in a blaze of blue light. Jack's instincts flared as he spun, cape disintegrating behind him, the heat peeling away the front half of his armor. He burst forward, leaping through shattered windows and toppling over splintered beams. Blue slashes carved the air around him, curving like scythes from unseen angles. One sliced clean through a support beam behind him; another nicked his side, ripping armor, but thankfully not his skin.

He gritted his teeth and pushed harder.

Through a collapsed stairwell. Over a buckled hallway. Down another floor—

Slash.

A horizontal sweep missed his neck by inches. He tucked and rolled, felt another arc slash down the wall beside him, collapsing it.

"Shit, shit, shit—"

The phantom pressure was building. Breathing down his neck. Cold, calm, and relentless.

Jack vaulted off the railing of a snapped staircase and through a half-broken window, slamming onto a tilted rooftop below. He skidded, coughing, greaves cracking tiles as he tried to recover. His helmet broke off. Then the chestplate. A piece of his thigh guard snapped with the next wave of pressure.

One more slash.

Two at most.

And he'd be done.

Dead.

"Gangster punk set me up," he growled. "They all did."

He dove off the next roof just as another wave of blue light disintegrated it behind him.

Caelus steadied himself atop the broken rooftop, his blade angled low and trailing a soft hum of residual Ryun. He hated this part—the chase. It wasn't his favorite thing to do. But Jack had proven surprisingly evasive. Still, Caelus wasn't impressed.

Cowardice wasn't unexpected. Just… disappointing.

He exhaled slowly and surveyed the ruined alleys and crumbling rooftops below. There were too many variables. Was Jack even working with the others, or just another wildcard in this already spiraling mess?

It didn't matter. Two more hits. That was all it would take.

He could see it forming—the faint, incomplete outline on Jack's aura, slowly knitting together with each cut. Once it fully enclosed him, that would be the end. His soul would collapse from the strain. No fancy technique could save him then.

Caelus adjusted his grip and crouched.

Jack leapt between a pair of alley walls, panting, barely holding it together.

Time to end this.

With both hands on the blade, Caelus launched. A blue streak tore the air as he shot forward like a railgun of light, leaving a thunderclap in his wake. In a blink, he was above Jack, blade raised high.

Jack looked up.

And in that split second, Caelus saw it.

Not fear.

But tears.

The eyes of a child. A moment of vulnerability so stark it gave even him pause.

Caelus sighed through his nose and began the final swing—CRASH!

Xitgen flew past in a blur of orange and white, launched through a building like a ragdoll. Caelus's blade stopped mid-swing, eyes narrowing in disbelief. A woman—with four fox-tailed, followed like a meteor.

"The hell?" he muttered.

Jack seized the opportunity. He twisted up with a desperate counterstrike.

But Caelus reacted instantly, extending his palm.

Boom.

A concussive burst of Ryun exploded from his hand, flattening Jack into the ground, cratered, walls shook, and Jack's body cracked the asphalt beneath him.

Caelus turned, one last glance at the barely conscious fighter.

He should finish it.

But then came the scream—Xitgen's, piercing and primal.

Another building erupted in flame behind him.

Caelus clenched his jaw. "Dammit."

The fight wasn't over. But his focus had to shift. He vanished from the rooftop, leaving Jack barely conscious in the rubble.

Caelus appeared just in time to see the fox-tailed woman ragdolling Xitgen through a storefront window. Her movement was wild, but controlled—every tail a whip, her kicks laced with enough Ryun to crater walls. Xitgen's fire hissed and curled around him, but it barely kept her back.

Her tails were outperforming his. Caelus narrowed his eyes and scanned her aura—

Level 257.

Made sense. Xitgen was only 189. He was getting outclassed, plain and simple.

Caelus sighed and sent a sharp crescent slash her way without a word.

She dodged. Easily.

"Woah, woah!" she called out with a half-smirk, flipping back mid-air. Her eyes opened wide with recognition "You're the Calmbread, right?"

Caelus didn't answer. Just stared.

Xitgen staggered and nearly collapsed—but Caelus caught him by the collar before he could faceplant.

His eyes locked back on the girl, but—

She was gone.

Already out of range.

She'd seen his level.

460.

Smart girl.

He turned slightly, letting his senses extend—and then noticed Decfare.

Or rather, what was left of him.

Pinned to a building wall like a grisly butterfly, dozens of glowing green arrows still vibrating in his chest.

Dead.

Caelus blinked once, just once, then adjusted his stance. Hefting Xitgen's weight up, he muttered under his breath.

"…this wasn't according to plan."

Caelus then laid him down, crouched beside Xitgen, and pressed a hand to his chest, letting waves of calming Ryun pass into his battered frame. The wounds began to mend, scorched muscle reknitting and fractured bone sealing beneath faint blue glow. He kept his jaw clenched.

Danyel and Decfare were gone.

Danyel was so full of life, spirit, and that bright, fluent English had always been a light to talk to. Her passion for becoming stronger had rubbed off on him more than once, made him believe in the strength of striving.

Decfare had been quiet, loyal. He wasn't even supposed to like Outlanders. As a Devleten, showing kindness to someone like Caelus was practically forbidden. And yet, he did. Caelus had planned to ask him to join up after the gem event.

Now both were dead.

He clenched his fist.

He had to do better. As a leader. As a symbol. If he wanted to be a real hero, their deaths couldn't be in vain.

Xitgen blinked slowly, breath returning. "I'm… sorry… didn't mean to fail. Strong. And dangerous."

"I can handle her," Caelus began, "Did she have any—"

"No, no," Xitgen cut him off, eyes wide with urgency. "She's strong, yes—but not her. The two out there. One with green eyes. The other—hues of red. They saved the Vari Jujisn. We had them!"

Caelus froze. His eyes narrowed. The others.

"I have—"

"Go," Xitgen wheezed, "but be careful. I'll try to find an opening." He paused, grimacing. "But worry not of me. If I die… that's on my abilities, Lord Calmbrand."

Caelus winced. "Don't call me that. And… okay." He rose to his feet. "If you see an opening, take it. Until then—let me handle this."

Xitgen gave a short, tight nod.

Caelus stepped onto the fractured street, shattered concrete crunching beneath his boots. The silence didn't last.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

His eyes adjusted—and what he saw pulled a chill up his spine.

Before, when they'd first subdued the Vari Jujisn, something had been wrong. No name. No title. She'd been unresponsive—completely blank. A shell. He assumed they had caught her in some kind of stasis or coma, maybe a debuffed state.

But now?

She was awake.

Two tags floated above the group, visible to anyone with video game Ryun perception:

[Higher Status]

[Higher Status]

And one that didn't just disturb him—it made his skin crawl:

{ | } The Blood Prince { | }

(—————————————————)

The health bar was full. Completely untouched.

He inhaled sharply. All of them were in the same place. The ones who took down Danyel and Decfare… and now this. He ran scenarios. Maybe if he moved fast, he could take out the Rituian Jujisn. Maybe disrupt their coordination. That would be something.

Or…

He could retreat.

He knew the smarter option. Knew what Eirian would advise. He even knew what Danyel would say. "Live today, win tomorrow."

But the image of what they said happened to her. Decfare's still form pinned against a wall.

A flame of bitter resolve lit behind his teeth.

Caroline touched down lightly beside the group, her boots skidding slightly against the broken pavement. But as soon as she looked up, she caught the tension. It wasn't just battle-worn silence—it was the kind of stillness that came before storms.

She blinked.

The boy with the locks—he radiated an odd aura. Not quite like Tinsurnae's pressure or North's simmering coil of chaos. But potent. Subtle, like thunder waiting behind the clouds.

Next to him was the one she immediately recognized as Destiny—Vari Jujisn . Even bloodied and ragged, the girl had presence. Her eye glinted, defiant and unwavering, even though her body was barely holding together. Caroline's jaw clenched. She could already tell this chick was the type to fight past her limit and still talk shit.

And then

Rainbow hair. Scuffed tactical suit. That body looked so familiar. Caroline's memory clicked.

Crisper.

No way.

She felt the thrill jolt up her spine like a power chord. One of her favorite V-Tubers. She'd watched her during late nights, hospital visits, and after playing Arc Sigil Unite 4. Her streams were the highlights of her nights. And now she was here.

Caroline swallowed that fangirl squeal and shoved it deep down. This wasn't the time for autographs.

Sšurtinaui appeared beside her in a ripple. The glance she gave was enough.

"Strong guy named the Calmbread," Caroline whispered. "He's worried about the one I was piecing up."

"It's Calmbrand."

"Ooh… that would explain why he just stared at me."

"How strong is he?"

"Level 460."

Sšurtinaui whistled, low and amused.

"Yeah. He definitely lived up to the rumors." Caroline said, shaking her head.

"Well… let's hope this goes well. Is he coming here?"

"I doubt it, and I don't feel any aura coming close… besides." She pointed at the three staring each other down. "I doubt anyone wants to be involved in that."

North, Tinsurnae, and Destiny stood just a few feet apart, their auras tugging at the air like barely leashed instincts. For a moment, no one said anything. Just the soft hum of tension.

Then North broke the silence, tilting his head with a half-smile.

"You look like you lost a bar fight with a meat grinder."

Destiny exhaled a laugh, but it turned into a cough. "And you look like you got dressed by an edgy ten year old."

Tinsurnae crossed her arms. "It's not that bad." She gave Destiny a once over. "Especially since right now, you're not in a position to talk about attire."

Destiny straightened, wiping blood off her lip. "Pfft. Just like y'all to show up when I'm already winning and try to double team me. Typical."

"Oh, we're the problem?" North raised an eyebrow. "You're the one looking like a cursed pinata."

Destiny pointed at him with a shaky finger. "That's funny coming from someone looking like a discount Sith. Seriously… you—-

"This goes hard!"

"Honestly, I admire the commitment." She placed a hand on her hip. "It takes a special kind of confidence to strut around dressed like a moody shower curtain and still expect people to take you seriously."

"First off fuck you! Also if you got Sith vibes from my fit," He grinned. "Then I obviously did something right."

"Darling, it looks like you were trying for "dark avenger" but accidentally ended up in "Halloween Dracula costume, but make it Hot Topic."

"Why are you talking like an old lady? Darling… oh you wanna sound smarter." He slammed his fist into his palm. "Don't worry! We still believe you have a brain in that blonde head of yours."

They continued bickering, bantering, flinging familiar jokes like they had a lifetime of history—but then they all slowed.

Stopped.

Because none of this made sense.

Destiny blinked.

North blinked back.

Tinsurnae narrowed her eyes.

Jamal leaned in near Destiny's side, eyebrows raised. "These your peoples?"

"No."

"Yes," North said at the same time.

"I don't know them… at least not personally," Destiny muttered.

"Yeah, you do. Pretty sure you love me, too."

Jamal let out a laugh.

"Ah, see? Finally, someone with a sense of humor."

"Blood, you stupid," Jamal said, grinning. "If this your pickup game, you funny as shit."

"Pickup?" North blinked. "Oh—wait, no, no, no. Me and B'Raixa go way back. Sorta…"

Tinsurnae punched him in the arm.

"What?!"

"You just made this super weird!"

Destiny's aura flared.

Jamal and Crisper exchanged a glance.

Crisper raised an eyebrow. "So y'all the other Jujisns?"

Caroline folded her arms. "Oh wow. Now everyone is just throwing around the word."

"I still don't say it," Jamal muttered. "That shit's weird." He pointed at Destiny. "And what you mean your name not Destiny? You fraudin' on your name, shawty."

"It's my middle name! Vari holds my first—but why the hell would you say it out loud?!"

"Apologies…. And it just sorta popped in my head."

Tinsurnae shook her head. "You knew that'd piss her off."

Destiny turned to her, furious. "And who the hell are you?!" Even though she was casually talking with them, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd met this girl before. And not in the weird, "we met in a past life" kind of way.

"Oh, I'm Tinsurnae. Rhan's Jujisn. We met once when I visited Vari's Domain."

Everything went quiet.

Jamal and Crisper didn't move. They didn't speak.

Two reasons. One—they were tired as hell. And two—they weren't sure what the move was. These four just pulled off a save and clearly knew Destiny. That alone put them on high alert.

Crisper, especially, could see it now.

They weren't just talking to some randoms. They were talking to the damn event itself.

The Blood Prince stood right in front of them.

North crossed his arms. "You should come with us."

Destiny didn't even hesitate. "No."

Caroline tilted her head. "Seriously? After everything?"

"You're not my team," Destiny snapped. "I don't know who you are."

"We just saved your ass," North said. "Kinda think that earns us a conversation."

"I didn't ask for help," she bit back.

"Oh my god," North muttered. "It's always like this with you. Always. You act like accepting backup is some betrayal of your pride or something."

"Because it is! You think I'm going to walk around like one of your groupies, letting the Blood Prince carry me everywhere?"

"Wow," he said, jaw tightening. "There it is. You know, you act like I'm the arrogant one, but you've been running around half-dead trying to prove something no one asked for."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Destiny said with a mocking smile. "Is my survival inconvenient for your redemption arc?"

Tinsurnae stepped between them, groaning. "You two…. Seriously. Shut up for one minute."

North pointed. "She started it!"

Destiny scowled. "I—!"

"Enough!" Tinsurnae shouted.

But that was pointless.

The three of them devolved into bickering again, voices overlapping with old tension.

Off to the side, Jamal tilted his head.

This was… a lot.

He looked to his left—and blinked.

An elf. Pointed ears. Graceful stance. Long white hair. Green glinting eyes.

First time he'd ever seen one.

Right next to a fire-tailed woman who fought like a anime character.

Yeah, he thought, fighting them would be stupid.

Destiny outright refusing to go with those four? Interesting move.

Maybe not the smart one—but interesting.

He glanced over at Crisper. She caught his eye and flashed two fingers. Two minutes left.

Almost time.

Jamal strolled up beside Sšurtinaui and Caroline, hands casually tucked into what was left of his pockets.

"Good lookin' out on that save," he said, nodding between the two of them. "But… yo, get a load of those three."

He tilted his head toward Destiny, North, and Tinsurnae—still locked in what looked like a mix between a lovers' quarrel and a tag-team argument.

Caroline snorted. "You get used to it."

Sšurtinaui crossed her arms, watching them with a mix of boredom and patience. "Learn to expect anything."

Jamal arched an eyebrow and turned slightly toward the elf. She was watching him again. Staring, really.

"You good blood?" he asked.

"You're interesting," Sšurtinaui replied simply.

He grinned. "Oh yeah? You crushing already?"

"No."

"Damn, cold. You practiced that?" He raised an eyebrow. "Did you look in a mirror and rehearse that line?"

Caroline cracked a smile despite herself, her shoulders shaking slightly with silent laughter.

Jamal winked at her. "You tore that tailed thing up, by the way."

Caroline laughed, brushing hair from her face. "Thanks. He had it coming."

As they talked, the tension in the air started to ease. Slowly. For now, at least… things were settling.

"I'm not joining! Screw you both!"

Destiny's voice cracked through the air.

"Why are you being so difficult?" North asked, exasperated.

"When isn't she difficult?" Tinsurnae added dryly.

"One—" Destiny jabbed a finger toward Tinsurnae, "you always take his side. And two—I'm fine! I've got things I need to figure out for myself. You both," she pointed at them sharply, "would only get in my way."

"How would I get in your way?"

"I don't know, Jafar—you always seem to!"

That made everyone freeze.

Then three things happened at once.

First, a spear streaked through the sky toward them, glowing with the lethality of a nuke.

Second, a dozen blue slashes shredded through the city, ripping apart the concrete and sky alike.

Third, an evac carrier blinked into view, snapping Jamal, Crisper, and Destiny out of sight in a flash of emergency teleportation.

"What the hell?!" North shouted, whirling.

Inside the carrier, Destiny pressed her face against the glass, a small, smug smile on her face.

"If you want me…" she called, "come earn me!" The carrier floated up and disappeared as it flew off.

The spear and slashes struck a moment later.

North, Tinsurnae, and Caroline all flared their auras, erecting overlapping barriers. The impact detonated across them in a brilliant, annihilating blast. The explosion obliterated the city and carved the ground into a crater. Buildings vaporized. Streets became dust.

Through the smoke and fire, North saw—

Dozens.

Floating ships. At least thirty. Rising from the horizon where the spear had come.

And from Tinsurnae's side, she saw him.

A man standing atop the wreckage, blue hair whipping in the wind, golden eyes burning like judgment itself. White-and-blue robes flowed behind him, regal and cold. His cape danced like a flag of war.

And his gaze held no mercy.

Only resolve.