Ashura stood in front of a cracked mirror inside the dimly lit room of the inn, his sharp black-clear eyes tracing over his reflection. He flexed his arms, testing the fit of his new armor, feeling the way it moved with him light yet sturdy, made for speed and precision rather than brute force.
The armor was crafted from a dark, matte material that absorbed the light instead of reflecting it, blending seamlessly into the shadows. Its design was sleek and fitted, tailored perfectly to his small frame. The chest piece was reinforced yet flexible, segmented in a way that allowed free movement without sacrificing protection. The pauldrons were small and curved downward rather than outward, preventing any excess bulk that might hinder his agility.
His arms were covered in tight but durable sleeves woven with a special fiber, layered beneath dark bracers that extended just past his wrists. His legs were clad in similarly fitted material, reinforced at the knees and shins with plates that bore faint, almost invisible engravings. His boots were lightweight, built for silent movement, with soles that barely made a sound against the wooden floor.
Ashura reached behind him, gripping the handle of his scythe, still wrapped in cloth to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. The contrast was almost comical a boy no taller than an adult's waist wielding a weapon nearly twice his size but to him, it felt right. Natural.
"A sword cuts. A spear pierces. An axe cleaves. But a scythe... a scythe reaps."
He exhaled slowly, letting his fingers trace the edge of the bracers before adjusting his stance.
"This armor is perfect. Light, durable, and made for someone who doesn't intend to stand still in a fight. Valerie did well finding this."
The door creaked open, and Valerie leaned against the frame, her eyes sweeping over him in appraisal. "Looks like it fits," she said.
Ashura nodded, flexing his fingers. "It does."
She tossed him a black cloak, the fabric thin and flowing. "Wear this when we go out. You already attract enough attention as it is."
He caught it and slung it over his shoulders, fastening it at the front. The fabric draped over him like a shadow, further adding to his ghostly presence.
Valerie smirked slightly. "Now you actually look like a proper combatant."
Ashura simply adjusted the cloak and turned toward the door. "Let's go."
They stepped out of the room, heading toward the tournament registration.
The morning haze had lifted, and the marketplace buzzed with energy merchants calling out their deals, adventurers passing by in worn armor, and children darting between stands with excitement. But as Ashura and Valerie moved through the crowd, eyes inevitably turned their way.
Whispers followed them, most directed toward the cloaked figure of Ashura. Some curious, others skeptical. A few were clearly amused at the sight of a child carrying a wrapped weapon nearly twice his height.
Ashura could feel the stares. They slid against his skin like invisible blades, but he ignored them, focusing on the destination ahead.
They reached the massive gates of the Coliseum, where a large crowd had gathered in front of the registration area. A towering stone arch bore a chiseled sign:
"Ironblood Youth Tournament – Registration Grounds"
Valerie stopped at the entrance and turned to Ashura. "From here, you'll have to go on your own. The first stage is the trial and evaluation. They'll test your strength, skill, and control."
Ashura gave a small nod. "I understand."
She looked at him for a moment longer, then bent down slightly to fix his collar. "Don't hold back, Ashura. Show them what you've become."
He nodded again, his voice quiet. "I will."
Valerie watched him step forward through the gates and disappear into the crowd of hopeful young fighters. Her expression remained unreadable, but her eyes lingered for a moment before she turned away.
Inside, the crowd was being split into groups. Ashura moved into the line he was directed toward, surrounded by kids ranging from 9 to 14 some nervous, others overconfident. Many of them glanced at him with uncertainty.
That's when he heard a voice call out from nearby.
"Hey… you! You're that kid from before!"
Ashura turned and spotted a familiar face running up through the line a scrawny boy with reddish-brown hair and a bandaged cheek.
It was Renji the same kid Ashura had defended from the bully just a few days ago.
"You really came, huh?" Renji grinned, clearly excited. "Are you joining the Ironblood Youth Tournament too?"
Ashura gave a small nod. "Yeah."
Renji laughed. "I didn't think you'd show up… but I'm glad you did. I've been training too. I owe you one, remember?"
Ashura tilted his head. "You don't owe me anything. Just do your best."
Renji gave a playful salute. "Yes, sir!"
As the trial bell rang, signaling the start of the evaluation phase, Ashura stepped forward with his scythe wrapped tightly on his back. His cloak billowed gently behind him as he entered the testing arena.
The true path to proving his growth had finally begun.