The discussion was over.
Apparently, there was going to be a showcase from one of the Houses near the center of the city.
Elicia found us while we were walking back to our chambers, moving with the same quiet grace she always had.
"It usually happens when a House has a member achieve a heavy masking," she explained. "Oh, right, we use the term masking for the process of a mask falling off, and then growing a new one."
"Which House did it?" Jackal asked.
"House Faelis," she said. "The unmasked warrior you saw yesterday, Xhan, he's their current leader. His younger brother, Khon, just had his first mask fall."
I found myself wondering about something. The guards we first saw were different. Or at least, I had assumed they were.
"Elicia, what about the tapir-looking Yuxina? None of them had cracks on their masks."
"Well, House Tapir functions differently," she said. "Their masks don't crack gradually. When they're ready, they fall off completely, all at once. And they don't hold showcases for maskings. But yes, one of theirs just had one recently. The one Jackal is going to fight."
She looked at him.
"He's now one of the Chosen Ones."
Then she paused, as if she was thinking if it was okay to say more.
"They're not from the same city as the rest. There were some... conflicts, which led to them coming here. A bit different from the others, from an evolutionary standpoint."
Jackal, confused, asked, "What do you mean, not from the same city?"
Elicia interrupted him before she answered. "We're here."
And we were.
There were thousands of people gathered in the clearing ahead. Maybe more.
Was this… everyone in the city?
I hadn't realized the scale of this civilization until now. The quiet tunnels, the sparsely populated halls, they hadn't told the full story.
Remarkable.
The clearing was alive with quiet anticipation, but no one spoke. Not in words. It was all glances, slight shifts of stance, the sound of bare feet against stone.
Then the delegation from House Faelis emerged.
They moved like predators, silent, fluid, intentional. Their masks were shaped like beasts, most of them feline. Not the exact likeness of any animal I could name, but something close, wild eyes, curved cheekbones, snarling fangs etched into the bone.
They stepped in formation, then broke apart with perfect coordination.
And then the pressure hit.
It wasn't like what we had felt before, not the heavy weight or pushing force most Yuxina used. This was different.
Sharper.
It cut through the air like invisible blades. Each movement, each step, felt like it sliced the space around them. Precise. Controlled. Lethal.
They didn't speak.
They began with acrobatics, flips, rolls, midair spins that landed without a sound. Two warriors launched into a sequence of sparring, their bodies moving so quickly it looked rehearsed. It probably was. But the pressure behind each strike still carried the promise of real danger.
Everything about it was performance and discipline.
The crowd watched in silence, but the silence wasn't empty. It was reverence.
Then, all at once, the warriors stopped.
The clearing froze with them. No movement, no breath. It almost looked like the time was frozen for them.
They stood like statues, shoulders wide. Their masks pulsed with mana.
Then, one by one, they raised their fists and slammed them hard against their chests.
Not fast, but the rhythm was deliberate.
The sound wasn't loud, but it carried, a deep, steady thump that rolled through the clearing like a heartbeat you could feel more than hear. Once. Twice. Then again.
A signal.
The crowd didn't stir, but I could feel the shift in attention. All eyes turning toward the edge of the formation, toward the space that was no longer empty.
Something was about to happen.
A figure stepped out from the edge of the delegation.
Khon.
Younger brother of Xhan. The one whose mask had just fallen.
His face was visible. Bare.
He looked young, barely older than Damian, maybe. But there was something about him. A weight. An aura that didn't belong to someone his age. His presence was filling the space. He did not hide it. So vividly precise. So sharp.
It hummed.
Controlled. Focused. Sharp.
It was as if he was a blade that had yet to be swung.
His hair was long and dark, almost fully black, falling past his shoulders, but not as long as his brother's. Cheekbones high, eyes sharp. Similar to his brother in many ways.
Khon stepped forward.
He didn't speak. Didn't raise his hands. He simply walked to the center of the clearing, shoes brushing the stone with not even a whisper of sound.
Then, with a single breath, the pressure changed.
It was instant.
The air around him warped. Not visibly, but in sensation. My skin prickled, as if my nerves sensed something my eyes couldn't. That same slicing force his House had shown, it radiated from him effortlessly. But this was different.
Much cleaner.
Not a blade swung wildly, but one drawn halfway from its sheath.
He moved.
A single step, one pivot, one cut through the air.
And a stone pillar at the edge of the clearing cracked.
Not shattered. Not destroyed. Just split. A clean, precise line through solid rock.
He hadn't even looked at it.
"Well, that is something," Jackal added.
And it was.
But then... he looked at me.
A sharp gaze, not necessarily unfriendly, more like a signal. A notice.
I stared back, unyielding.
I understood what it meant. It wasn't hard to.
This was a message from him, to me.
Khon would be my opponent. I would be fighting the newly unmasked Yuxian in the ritual duel.
He continued his demonstration.
Several creatures were released into the clearing, short, gnarly things with twisted limbs and bodies hunched low to the ground. Their faces were barely visible beneath oily shadows. They made noises that didn't belong to anything natural. Wet, grating, hungry.
Then they charged.
Khon didn't flinch. He didn't even shift his stance.
He moved through them with effortless grace, each step a whisper, each motion a blur.
Heads rolled. Black blood sprayed across the stone.
He didn't miss a single one.