Chapter 15

"Brother, how are you doing?" Cain strolled leisurely into Zachary's room.

"I was fine until I saw you," Zachary scoffed.

"Come on, I've been so worried about you. That hurts, man!"

"Get lost, will you? That cologne of yours is enough to choke someone," Zachary wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Cain raised an eyebrow, smiling slyly, "Are you jealous of me?"

"Jealous? Please! One whiff of that cheap perfume and I know she's no catch. Why don't you teach her a thing or two about taste?"

Cain's smile softened. "Every woman is a gift from the heavens, worthy of care. Didn't you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah, just remember to take care of your kidneys first before you get too sentimental," Zachary turned away dismissively.

"Hey, what's gotten into you today? Who ticked you off?"

"No one. I just don't like the sight of you."

Cain rubbed his nose, sensing it was time to make an exit.

"Hey, Manning?" A rare sight, Manning in a muted grey suit, stepped in from outside.

He smiled at Cain before turning to Zachary, "Feeling better now?"

Zachary nodded, "Yeah, mostly."

"That's good," Manning shifted the conversation, "Did you hear? The match schedules for the individual tournament were posted today."

"Anything I should worry about?"

"Not really, but..." Manning cast a cold glance at Cain, who shrank slightly, a bad feeling creeping into his chest.

"But what?"

"You'll know when Lancaster brings the schedule." Manning smirked. "Oh, Zachary, did you hear? Lancaster went to see the Damu team today. Seemed to be getting along quite well with that beautiful lady."

"Wow, a beauty from the Damu team!" Cain's face lit up with mischief. "No surprise it's Lancaster. But what's he doing with her?"

"He's been busy lately, visiting all the top teams. Does that mean anything?"

Zachary's face darkened. Since waking up, he hadn't seen much of Lancaster, which only worsened his mood.

Manning, ever observant, shrugged, "How would I know? Anyway, I'm off. Zachary, get some rest."

"Ugh, that Manning, always leaving things half said!" Cain spat in frustration.

Zachary gazed out the window, "Maybe he can't say more. But some things, sooner or later, have to be revealed."

Was it just a trick of the light, or did Cain's face seem a bit pale?

Lancaster walked alone down the street, his mind a storm of confusion.

His impulsive confrontation with Manning still troubled him—had he tipped his hand too soon?

He still wasn't sure what Manning's true intentions were. Was he here for Zachary, for himself, or something else entirely?

What was their next move?

But this was just a minor problem.

For the past few days, he'd been visiting knights on one hand to carry out the old fox's orders, but on the other, he was avoiding facing Zachary.

Even if people called him heartless, he had never taken Zachary's sweet words to heart.

At most, he found Zachary's affection amusing.

In terms of skill, Zachary was a good companion, but nothing more.

After all, he was a man too, and he knew how cheap words of love could be.

Yet, that smile Zachary gave him on the ring, the smile of someone who believed they were about to die, still haunted him.

Why? Why could someone smile so peacefully, even happily, in the face of death?

Was it because he was dying for him?

He didn't understand. He truly didn't.

What did Zachary really want?

His love? Lancaster smirked bitterly. That's something he wasn't even sure he possessed.

Although he had won the hearts of many, he had never grasped the essence of love.

Perhaps he was born missing a piece, as the old fox had once teased him.

If Zachary could be satisfied with just being his best friend, his best brother, would that be enough?

If not, there was nothing more he could give. This was his limit.

Alright then, I'll go back and make things clear with Zachary.

Lancaster shook his head forcefully, feeling as though he had resolved one issue. Now, all that remained was to keep an eye on Manning.

And… he glanced bitterly at the match schedule in his hand. One problem solved, but another on the horizon...

Dinner Time

"Cain, do you know who your first opponent in the tournament is?" Lancaster asked casually, picking up a sweet and sour rib.

"Who?" Cain looked up, his mouth stuffed with food.

"It's Leif! Didn't expect you two to face off right from the start."

"Pfft!" Cain spit out his soup. "That little brat? No way!"

"It's what the committee decided. You don't get a say in it!"

Cain shot a disdainful glance at Leif. "Great. Beat a kid, and everyone will say I'm bullying the weak."

"What did you say?" Leif, who had been quietly eating, finally stood up.

"I'm talking to you, kid! You're barely as tall standing as I am sitting!"

"You!"

"I suggest you forfeit now. You won't want to be left crawling on the floor after I'm done with you."

Leif slammed his bowl down, "Lancaster, I'm full. I'm going to practice my spear!"

"Yeah, right, with your lousy spear skills, even a hundred years of practice wouldn't help you." Cain's words were unusually sharp today, wounding Leif visibly.

After Leif walked away, Cain also put down his bowl. "I'm done eating." His face mirrored his sour mood.

"Cain, can't you talk to Leif without picking a fight?"

"I just can't stand that kid!" Cain stormed off in frustration.

Nightfall, as cold as the water in a deep well.

Leif practiced the Dragonfire Spear Technique over and over in the courtyard, but his thoughts drifted back to dinner.

He couldn't understand why Cain always seemed to single him out. He hadn't done anything to provoke him, had barely even spoken to him before the tournament.

But from the moment they met, Cain had made him the target of his mockery and scorn.

Why?

Leif was puzzled. He was a straightforward kid and hated these kinds of unspoken tensions.

So he decided he would get to the bottom of it before the match.

Only then could he face the fight, win or lose, with a clear conscience.

Leif went to Cain's room for the first time, ready to confront him, but stopped when he overheard voices.

"Cain, are you really going to fight him like that?" Manning's voice floated out.

"What else can I do?"

"True, but Cain, are you still not planning to tell him who you are?"

"Who am I? Who am I, really? You tell me, who am I?"

If Leif could see inside, he would have been shocked by the twisted smile on Cain's face, just as Manning was now.

"Cain, don't do this!"

"I'm fine! After this match, I can take the kid back, and the mission will be over! Why should I feel bad?"

"Cain, I never should've given you that task! I didn't think you'd accept it..."

"Yeah, I still don't know why I took it." Cain sighed softly.

"Are you really not planning to go back?"

"Go back where? Do I even have a place to return to? Tell me, Manning!"

"Cain, you're drunk!"

"I'm not! I just wanted to see how he's doing, to see what makes him different from me, to see if they ever really cared about me. I just wanted to know..."

Silence.

"Come on, no more of this depressing talk. If we're brothers, let's have another drink! And to think, I didn't expect to run into you here of all places!"

"Everyone has their own destiny," Manning smiled faintly.

"So, did you find 'the one'?" Cain asked with genuine concern.

"More or less."

"Congratulations, you finally did it! I still remember the first time I saw you..."

The two drank until they could no longer tell what was alcohol and what were tears.

Outside the door, someone sat with knees drawn up, leaning against the wall, braving the cold wind through the night.

The next day, Lancaster and the others swiftly defeated their opponents and gathered at Cain and Leif's arena.

The match was in full swing.

"Manning!"

"You guys are here?"

"Yeah, how's it going?"

"See for yourself."

"Come on, kid! Is that all you've got? Didn't you eat enough for breakfast?"

"Move left! What, your arms too short? Haven't grown up yet?"

"That's how you use a spear? No power behind it at all!"

Anyone with eyes could see that Cain had already won. If he wanted to, he could have ended the match in three moves.

But instead, he toyed with Leif like a cat playing with a mouse, dodging his attacks with ease and never even drawing his weapon.

"Lancaster, doesn't this seem odd to you?" After observing for a while, Lancaster voiced his thoughts.

"Leif's techniques are precise, yet Cain counters them effortlessly. It's almost like he knows exactly where the next strike will come from."

"Yeah," Zachary nodded. "It feels like they're old sparring partners, as if they've trained together before."

As they spoke, the dynamic in the arena shifted.

Leif overextended on an attack, leaving himself vulnerable. Cain seized the opportunity, closing the gap swiftly to exploit the opening, ready to land a decisive blow.

But just as his fist was about to strike, Leif's spear twisted in an unnatural, unpredictable arc, stabbing toward Cain's unprotected back.

The crowd gasped in shock.

Without even looking, Cain's right hand shot out from beneath his arm, catching the spearhead effortlessly, stopping Leif's attack dead in its tracks.

With a slight twist of his wrist, the spear was yanked from Leif's grip.

Cain turned, tossing the weapon to the ground.

"Still can't hold onto your spear, huh?"

Leif staggered back, his face drained of color. "You… You're my brother, Jakarta! You must be!"