The cheers began to fade. Four matches had ended. Four contestants remained.

In the stands, the atmosphere shifted. No longer just excitement—now, tension.

Noen leaned back in his seat, Raven still calmly perched on his shoulder. He exhaled. “That went fast. Feels like it just started.”

Xiara nodded. “Who are you rooting for?”

Noen hesitated. “Maybe Kaeren. But Nareen’s... terrifying too.”

“Kaeren is like a weapon you can’t predict,” said Xiara. “But Nareen... she can bring someone down with just one sentence.”

“And Ircos?” Noen asked.

“If he can appear behind anyone... who can easily protect their back?” Xiara murmured.

Behind them, Orimo, Lyemo’s younger brother, stood hugging his bag. He stared at his brother, who sat in the waiting room, his hands still stained with dry ink.

“He won,” Orimo whispered to himself. “Just two matches left.”

Elsewhere in the arena, some spectators were arguing.

“Selphi could’ve won if she touched Kaeren’s shoe!”  

“No way! Kaeren didn’t give her a chance. He was quiet, then—bam!”  

“Insane. I got dizzy just watching.”

On the big screen, replays of the matches played in slow motion, Tespera, Dleroe, Varn, and Selphi falling one by one.

Meanwhile, in the waiting room, the four semifinalists sat apart. No one spoke. Only the sound of the referee’s footsteps echoed now and then.

Lyemo wiped his fingers with a cloth. Kaeren stared at the floor. Nareen twirled thread around her finger. Ircos stood with his back to everyone.

They knew: the next round wasn’t just a match. It was a test of their stories. And the cost of falling... could be more than just bruises.

Then the announcer’s voice boomed with excitement.

“For the upcoming semifinals: Lyemo will face Ircos, and Nareen will face Kaeren!”

Raven finally spoke after a long silence. “Do you know how wide the gap is between story power tiers?”

“No idea,” Noen and Xiara replied after exchanging glances.

“The gap is massive. Ircos’s power must’ve been extremely weak when it was still narrative-tier. I don’t know how he managed to raise it,” Raven said.

Noen and Xiara simply nodded.

“Noen, do you remember how to raise a story’s tier?” Raven asked.

Noen nodded again. “Their story has to be known by many people.”

“Exactly. This tournament is one of the best way to do that. But it’s not guaranteed. If you lose here, your story power might even drop to Echo-tier, considered too uninteresting to keep. That’s why, despite the benefits, very few are willing to gamble their tier,” Raven explained.

“So, maybe Ircos once won this tournament with that weak narrative-tier power?” Noen asked.

“Not necessarily. There could’ve been other reasons. This isn’t the only way to raise a tier,” Raven replied.

“True. I’ve never heard of Ircos before. And I’ve been watching the king’s birthday matches since I was little,” Xiara added.

“Still, that doesn’t change the fact that Ircos had to survive with a weak power to climb tiers. That means his battle instincts must be incredibly sharp,” Noen said, silently deciding not to use the term ‘battle IQ’, it might sound suspicious if the concept of IQ didn’t exist in this world.

“You’re right. He’s probably a genius when it comes to combat instinct,” Xiara replied.

Suddenly, Noen grew curious, drawn to Ircos’s story power.

“Can story powers ever be duplicated in this world?” Noen whispered to Raven.

“No. The chances are zero. There’s no way two people could live identical lives. Maybe some powers are slightly similar, but exactly the same? Impossible,” Raven whispered back.

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