Ever since Kwazhak left to join L in his rebellion against the tournament, he always assisted him to achieve the goal. So that generations of people wouldn’t be systematic, voluntary genocide. However in order to do that, Kwazhak had given up most of his efforts to find the origins of his mother. With her being the last known of her tribe, he kept on doubting the search, but his efforts never yielded success.

Until that day, when Saya told him about the champion. L never liked to talk about the champions of the Dineh Kazaàd. Perhaps if Kwazhak told L about his late mother, he would’ve helped him. Now all that remains is three.

“I awake light-hearted this morning of spring,

everywhere around me the singing of birds.

Though now I remember the night, the storm,

and I wonder how many blossoms were broken.”

Kwazhak woke up to the locals rummaging through the dumpster bins. He found himself amidst the trash, reciting his brother’s poem. He stunk of rotten filth, and decided to take a brief trip to an Azu bathhouse to clean himself. While bathing himself, Kwazhak slumped over, resembling nothing of the noble status he so praised.

In his mind he wanted to reach for a book and not a sword, imagining a time where he freely spent it learning the tongues of the world. Imagining an unpredictable future, where someday L and everyone would visit As-Z̆onghu̐a, and frolic in the twin cities. A future where they all could watch the Tanabata festival in Wakoku, without the stress of being captive by a heinous corporation.

Kwazhak then traveled to the Jeongbo data company again to deliver a letter. He didn’t say anything about it to the others, because reading it would surely make them sad. Kwazhak requested it to be mailed to the Jade Palace back home, hoping that someone from the Laoyuang House would receive it in time. If he recalled, the Major would resume in the evening.

“Gh-”

“Ah-”

He had bumped into somebody while turning the corner of a street, causing the person to shatter their bottle on the floor. Quickly Kwazhak apologized as he looked up.
“I apolo-”

“Uwah,” Toya berated him before he could finish.

“Uwah? I believe one meant to say ‘good day’,” Kwazhak stood, while Toya glanced for a way to overtake him. “The Major starts late in the evening, no?”

“Yes. Now goodbye.”

“Please wait,” He latched his hand on her wrist, tugging on her. Kwazhak became silent for a while, until he found the words to speak. “I’m sorry for probing thee for the past few days. I… I wanted to know about my late mother. It’s one of the reasons I came here. And… I promise that I will issue an official apology on behalf of the Laoyuang and Al-Qarakh House to the Máak.”

Toya became quiet as she stopped in her tracks, before pulling her arm out of Kwazhak’s grasp.

“Are you really going to protect Saya’s life over yours?”

“I intend to. For as long as she is safe, the sky will be blue.”

“...” Toya sighed and took a step backward. “For twenty years your country has enslaved my people, scattered us, and sent what was left to the Dineh Kazaàd. Each generation, they always told us that the Laoyuangs had done this. Oral stories tell of our origins, how we descended from a place called Earth, a couple decades after Genesis. Our homeland, which you now call the Lāoyuàng Oasis, was taken from us. And I won’t deny anymore that I have heard people in the tribe mention the name Thoj. Her full name was Thoj Sua, I think.”

“Hold on…” Kwazhak reached his hand out. “What…”

“Let me speak, it’s your last day, right? What was left of my tribe talked of some staying in As-Z̆onghu̐a, with Thoj Sua being one of them to be garnered by a young Laoyuang at that time. Hey-”

“Thank you so much…” Kwazhak’s eyes became watery as he gently took her hand, falling to one knee, “Even if it’s so trivial. After a decade of searching, someone knows about my mother, for even my father can’t remember her…” Embarrassed, he covered his face to hide his joy, “If I met you a few years earlier, then I’m sure that I would’ve been down on one knee, asking for your hand in mine.”

“Huh? I don’t understand when you’re speaking in Renhua,” She tried to console him while she rested her arms around his head. For some reason, a young man such as him choked on his words as he cried. When he composed himself, Kwazhak was rested in someone’s grasp.

“Tch. You done bawling?” Toya gave a mean glance, and dumped him off to the floor. As soon as Kwazhak gained his balance, he bowed.

“I thank thee once again. Is one still opposed to the tournament’s subversion?”

“...”

“No need to answer that now, we have all the time in this world,” He put his hand in his pocket, walking away. To think he cried on the woman he searched for. Other than the events that unfolded, he hadn’t seen Suruj and the others the entire day, although Tsuchiya had gone into hiding. When Kwazhak arrived at the roji from last night, they were all gone. No matter where he went, he found nobody.

In no time, Kwazhak was already walking down the hallway into the arena. He already was aware of the lineup, that there was only one match to be held. The armed guards kept watch, seeing the spotlights illuminating the night. Kwazhak entered the arena, keeping his posture straight, his hand to his side.

“Welcome to the semifinals of the Kazaàd Major!” The commentator gave it his all, “We now have three distinguished fighters that made the cut, but only one can face the defending champion. Up here now, the Fighter for the Gold, Kwazhak Laoyuang!”

The Fighter for the Gold responded with annoyance, “That Chiyo must’ve set that pet name…”

There came barely what could be recognized as an applause. In fact, a portion of the spectators held anti-tournament signs, booing at someone. Kwazhak didn’t think once that they were jeering at him, but at the Major itself.

“Uh…” The man on the microphone was bewildered at the audiences reaction. “And next we have the Fighter from Azu! Izdaha Saya!”

It was the first time Kwazhak had seen Saya since yesterday, as men in armor brought her by force. She fought with her might, biting and kicking and screaming. At the very least, a surprised look came across his face. He didn’t know what happened to them.

“Saya-”

“Kwazhak! Where were you? As soon as everyone left, these men took Suruj and I!” Saya explained, coughing. “Don’t tell me…”

“Don’t worry, one will be alive by the time the Dineh Kazaàd is gone,” He replied, while pondering whether or not something was leaked.

“Don’t screw with me!” Saya balled her fists, her hands shaking. “Have we really made any progress? And why do you all keep me out of this? I’m sure I’ll be helpful! Or am I just that weak? Are you going to kill me right now?”

“Saya, calm down. Thou art not weak, in fact that one has survived this long demonstrates it. But I have a confession to make,” He looked up at the dark sky, the blinding lights shining on them. “The reason why we and Suruj would never place thy life in jeopardy is… that L’s last words were to prioritize thy safety.”

“Huh?...”

“However I failed to protect the lives of others, a sole blemish on my part. And to make amends for everyone that has died, I offer my life here,” He pledged, putting his hand over his heart. “So…”

Kwazhak went into a fighting stance, creating space between his legs. With his one hand he let down his hair bun, the long dark hair flowing outwards like a sea of clouds. Feeling the sand crunch beneath his feet, he reached his hand out in the air. The saharic density was zero hyakume, yet his hanfu and hair floated as if there were no gravity.

“‘Cheng Ying, I dance to the moon’s ballad; come forth into this endless night, and I shall not yield’,” A sword appeared before him, clad in silver and red patterns of jade, but bore no blade. Kwazhak lifted the hilt up in the air, as the Qamar peered from above the clouds. In the moon’s gaze, the sword’s blade drew a shadow, becoming visible in the lunar light. It glowed the intensity of the spotlight itself, a certain property radiating off of it. With it Kwazhak formally brandished it.

The Guizu Arcana’s ace-in-a-hole, a weapon that could only be summoned once in a lifetime: Cheng Ying. No one except his deceased relatives wielded it.

“What the…” Saya began to grab at her own sword nervously, “What are you doing?”

“So…” Kwazhak felt the mythical sword tug at his body, bringing it to his side, “I request you to duel me one last time. Here I come!”

He leaped into the air, as Cheng Ying’s light traced an arch in the sky.