Reincarnation Across the Ages

Chapter 9

The Age of the Losers, Part 3

Silence prevails over any noise in the area. 

Immobilized above the stage, Kazo is placed in a critical situation. His opponent completely dominates the fight, leaving no room for even the slightest defensive move. The A-ranked fighter yields to the determination of the D-ranked Sculptor.

Faced with a one-sided duel, the audience remains quiet. This is not the time to unleash their accumulated enthusiasm. Not a word is spoken, but the audience shows no signs of concern as if they are patiently waiting to play their part.

Roccan questions the situation beyond his understanding: "What's going on? There's something wrong with this event."

"Is that what your instinct tells you?" Falco asks him.

"I can feel it. Where have you brought me?"

"You haven't understood yet, brat. In this place, your intuition is useless. This is the Sculptors' base, not your house."

The fight seems to have stopped in time. The competitors remain in the same position, as if statues were being produced from their poses. Minutes go by one after the other, yet the same image remains in the eyes of the spectators. 

Kazo uses all his physical strength to free himself from his opponent but is unsuccessful. The monotony of the stage resembles a framed photograph, unchanged by the passage of time.

"That's enough! This fight is over! What are we waiting for?" Roccan loses patience.

Smiles can be seen on the faces of everyone in the audience. In the same way that a mirror reflects an image, the reaction of each fan seems to replicate the expressions around them. Everyone behaves similarly; it's just another day in the resistance.

Falco feels he owes the boy an explanation.

"In the Fun Games, it's not just the combatant who decides the match. A Summoning is won by the one who fights alongside the audience."

"What's the point of all this nonsense? This dispute should be over by now."

"That's not for you to decide. Only the shouts of the crowd can declare a winner."

"They're all silent. That means..."

"The fight can't be over yet."

Tremors shake the main stage.

The shaking of the ground makes it impossible for any human to stand, causing the dominant competitor to lose his balance. As if the phenomenon were reproducing the beating of drums, the marble floor shakes, changing the momentum of the clash with a decisive turn. Kazo finally frees himself from the pressure exerted on his body.

Subsequent shouts re-establish the mood of the fiery competition. The crowd is clamoring for more fun.

"Get up, Kazo!"

"It's your turn to call the shots! Put that worm in his place!"

"Step forward!"

"Get it over with!"

"Come on, Kazo!"

Surrounded by a contagious energy, the exalted fellow gets back to his feet. The A-Rank faces the unbalanced opponent, leading the competition in an inevitable direction. Spotlights shine on those who are now thrilled by the vulnerability of the lower-ranked Sculptor, looking forward to yet another victory for the absolute vowel.

Gritting his teeth in a display of hatred, Roccan states, "This event is despicable."

"In the Fun Games, the winner isn't the strongest, let alone the hardest worker. The real winner is responsible for bringing the entertainment that the public demands. That's the real purpose of a Summoning," Falco informs him.

"I should have imagined it would be something like this. Now that it's over, I'm leaving."

"Stop making assumptions. Just enjoy the show."

Rain drenches every inch of the main stage, even though the cave ceiling covers the entire arena. The water has a supernatural origin.

The belittled competitor's posture stabilizes again as icy drops run down his body, awakening him for the ultimate showdown. With the letter "D" emblazoned on his chest, he faces the favoritism around him, honoring the squadron that has tarnished his name.

A deluge falls on Kazo's head, bathing him in the liquid that promises to change the flow of the fight. Both competitors take an object from their pockets: relics raise the level of the confrontation.

"Relics!" Roccan's lips form a sudden smile, momentarily forgetting his frustration.

"Is that some kind of addiction?"

The battle continues, following the frenzy of the passionate crowd. Tremors aim to bring down the lower-ranked Sculptor, who is constantly threatened by Kazo's powers. On the other hand, the audience's favorite face is hit by the intense waterfall, being pressed down by the weight of the rain on his back.

Legs that struggle to stand firm are repeatedly challenged by basic natural phenomena. No one wants to surrender when facing an endurance test. The one who gives in will face the humiliation of being beaten again.

In a scenario where both competitors are in danger of falling to the ground, the audience silently consents.

Falco mutters, "Hehehe... the Rain Relic against the Quake Relic. It's a clash of natural disasters."

"Why has everyone gone quiet? Have they lost confidence?" Roccan asks his companion.

"Have you forgotten everything I taught you? The contestants must fight alongside the audience. That means that all parties have a stake in victory."

"People are cheering for your friend."

"That means he has control of the situation, but it doesn't decide the winner. If he's defeated while the crowd is screaming, he'll really lose this time."

"What kind of madman would create a sport like that?"

"That's our resistance."

The deluge crashes down on Kazo, affecting the balance of someone who has always stood on top. The rain powers, responsible for putting his stance in check, reach maximum potential to form an artificial storm.

Suddenly, the drenched victim's hearing detects something crucial: the falling water is the only sound capable of reaching his ears; no voice can oppose the noise of the rain.

The A-ranked Sculptor purposely collapses to the ground. 

Perplexed, Roccan realizes the unfortunate situation, "This is a joke, right?"

"You finally get it, kid. Congratulations," Falco congratulates the boy.

"I don't want to see that end."

"That's our reality, not yours."

"That's unfair! It's practically a rigged match!"

"Oh, come on. Your sense of morality doesn't work here."

"Isn't anyone going to intervene? Why isn't anyone stopping this ridiculous event?"

"At this base, you're the only one out of place. You're just one against all the others. Understand your place, brat."

In the contest's final moments, the underrated competitor realizes his cruel fate. The consonant stamped on his chest means that no one would celebrate his possible moment of victory, even if his opponent has just fallen in front of him.

On the other hand, his body was about to give in to the pressure of the constant tremors. Considering that his enemy had fallen on purpose, he would still save energy to get up. The match was already set.

Filled with indignation, Roccan comments, "When he's about to fall, your idiot friend will get up. After that, everyone will scream."

"Correct. That's the inevitable outcome. A competitor's fall, combined with the audience's screams, ends the Fun Games. The one who is being honored on his feet wins."

The blond boy's eyes can no longer stare at the despicable scene. He had been watching it for too long. His vision focuses on the face of the lowest-ranking Sculptor: the guy is still trying to stand firm, facing all the injustices that lead him down the impossible path, even though no one knows his name.

Pink particles prepare a young man for combat. Portals are ready to dispel a conclusion that crosses the boundaries of what is acceptable.

"That's enough—"

A hand restrains the enraged boy's movement.

Roccan's actions are interrupted before they can be carried out. A thick voice calms the heated nerves that were once ready for combat. The newcomer is a man already known to everyone present.

"To change this world, you must understand how it works. Someone who's just become a Sculptor isn't going to solve everything on his own," Jiro says.

After the heartfelt comment, the man slowly walks away, looking for a place to sit on the long bleachers. Wearing an outfit that reinforces his squad's mediocrity, the letter "C" is combined with casual attire, allowing him to customize his look slightly.

Falco invites him, "Hey, Jiro! Why don't you sit with us?"

"That's not an option; my seat is reserved."

"Are you kidding? You arrive at the last moment of the competition and decide to stay alone?"

"I needed to clear my head."

On the main stage, the confrontation continues without intervention. The inevitable result finally occurs: Kazo uses his conserved energy to stand up again while tremors shake the last hopes of his underestimated opponent. Like a meticulously prepared script, the loser had already been decided from the start.

Fervent shouts accompany the fall of the lower-ranked while at the same time consecrating the victory of the one who would never allow himself to lose to someone so far down in the Sculptors' rankings.

With his opponent's back on the ground, Kazo is the competition winner.

Red spotlights provide a light show, highlighting the laughter of every spectator in the audience. Glitter and confetti paint the place with vibrant colors, just as they shower the defeated competitor with boundless humiliation.

Faced with a sight capable of contradicting all his principles, Roccan feels the most profound disgust for the resistance's most popular event.

"That's disgusting... how can no one notice something like that?"

Standing up, Falco calls out to the boy, "It's time to get up, brat. You're the only one missing the party."

"That's not true, I'm sure—"

Among countless people celebrating, the young man notices the presence of a familiar man. On the other side of the stands, Roccan spots Jiro, both occupying different ends of the arena.

The only face the young man trusted is now talking to the other people in the audience. The man's lips, which once prevented a hate-fueled catastrophe, now form the same expression as those around him.

"Do you understand now? None of this is new. You're the new guy here." Falco presents the harsh reality to the ignorant boy.

"He wasn't the only one I believed in. There's also the girl..."

"Proxie? You can't even say her name. Just as it was with him, you don't know anything about that loser either. She carries frustrations and secrets you could never imagine!"

"That's not true; I know she saved me."

"And you think that's enough?"

“No, it is not…”

Roccan realizes something he should have learned long ago, staring at the grandiosity of the finished event. Hundreds of people form an image never before explored by his pupils. Still, a single familiar point arouses his curiosity again.

After expressing an unrecognizable smiling side, Jiro assumes the severe face that has always marked his identity. He dismisses further conversation and heads for the exit, displaying a noticeable discomfort.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Falco wonders about the reasons behind the young man's reaction.

"I've finally realized that this is only the beginning."

Roccan's legs move once again, but the moment has a fundamental difference: his body trembles, acting in tandem with a mind full of uncertainty.

I still need to learn a lot about this place, he concludes.

The boy distances himself from Falco and his squad, arousing extreme resentment in the impatient leader.

"Hey, brat! Do you really think you can survive in the resistance?"

"I still have no idea. Can the question wait a little longer?"

"Tsk. As you wish."

The young man leaves the arena, looking for someone nearby. The person requested couldn't have been far away. On the way, memories justify the last decisions made.

Roccan remembers his conversation with Proxie on the night of their reunion. The girl's words were too genuine to be forgotten.

"It turns out that a reliable companion rescued me, perhaps the only one..." She commented earlier.

In the present, the blond boy finds the target of his personal quest. In a place away from the crowd, Jiro hears the genuine request of a mind interested in answers.

"Tiro, right?"

"Jiro. You don't seem to be very good with names."

"I have a request."

"I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on! I saved you once! You were going to die to the powers of the Lightning Relic!"

"Electricity Relic."

Roccan's voice weakens, accentuating the honesty of a vulnerable act.

"You're the only person I can ask that..."

"Spit it out."

"I want to know more about the flying girl."

"Who?"