As Sarn stepped out of the arena, a voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “You’re Saryntha, right? You’re in my group.”

  She turned to see the boy she’d noticed earlier. His tone was calm, almost too casual, as if her loss hadn’t mattered at all.

  “Yes, but... I don’t think it matters,” she replied softly.

  Sarn gnced down, unsure how to respond. What use was it for someone like him to know her name? She had failed spectacurly; being associated with her couldn’t possibly benefit anyone. Still, she forced a faint smile, not wanting to seem rude or bitter.

  Liam’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he continued, “Why? We’re going to be assigned missions together in the future. Don’t you know?”

  “That may not be possible,” she added quietly.

  “Why?” Liam asked, his voice holding a note of genuine curiosity.

  Sarn shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “It won’t be possible for me to go that far.”

  With genuine curiosity, Liam asked, “If it’s not possible, then why are you here?”

  The words hit her harder than the fight she’d just lost. Sarn’s grip on her sword tightened, and she looked away. Why am I here? The question echoed painfully in her mind. Wasn’t it obvious? She didn’t belong here. She wasn’t strong enough.

  “I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice heavy with frustration.

  Liam said nothing as she walked away, her shoulders slumping under a weight that felt unbearable. She repyed his question in her mind, and it only made her feel worse. Why doesn’t he understand how much it hurts to admit this? At least he could’ve said something to console me. Her chest tightened.

  Liam stood there, watching her go. He frowned, unsure if he’d crossed a line. Had he been too blunt? He couldn’t figure out why she reacted the way she did, but something about her words lingered in his mind.

  As she walked, her mind spiraled. Wasn’t it better before? Back when she was just a commoner, unnoticed and unimportant? No one expected anything from her then. She could live without the pressure of proving herself.

  But was she truly happy back then?No, she realized bitterly. I thought coming here would change something—make me different. Better. Special.

  But had it? She stared ahead, feeling the sharp sting of disappointment. No. Nothing’s changed. I’m still the same ordinary person. The only difference is now I’m surrounded by people who are better than me. Here, I’m just different because I’m worse.

  Sarn let out a frustrated sigh. I don’t know why I’m here. I just don’t know anymore.

  Liam’s words still echoed in her mind, twisting the knife further. Why couldn’t he say something to make it better?

  She shook her head. Isn’t he being rude?

  Liam stood there, watching her go. He frowned, unsure if he’d crossed a line. Had he been too blunt? He couldn’t figure out why she reacted the way she did, but something about her words lingered in his mind.

  “That’s why I shouldn’t approach anyone,” he murmured to himself, turning in the opposite direction.

  As Sarn trudged back to her hostel, her thoughts were a whirlwind of frustration and self-doubt. She had lost every fight so far. Not one, not two—every single match. She clenched her fists, trying to push away the sinking feeling of failure.

  Why am I even here?

  The idea of being "Celestial" still sounded alluring, but it felt less and less like a reality with each loss. And the worst part was not knowing what Celestial even meant. What were they training for? What was the real purpose of all this?

  She paused, staring at the hallway leading to her room. Around her, other participants were talking, ughing, or sharing strategies. Most seemed energized, despite their wins or losses. Sarn couldn’t rete to them at all.