After the duel that marked his first victory, Zeyne found himself sitting on the edge of the arena, while the other preliminary matches unfolded around him. The murmur of the crowd, the clash of blades, and the muffled cries of the fighters created an almost hypnotic background. With a keen gaze and a focused mind, he observed each battle: the stances, the determination in the participants' eyes, the sweat and exhaustion etched on their faces.

  "Every fight tells a story," he reflected inwardly, mentally noting every detail—the tactical choices, the way some sacrificed themselves to protect their comrades, and the contrast between the ruthlessness of the attacks and the grace of the parries.

  The occasional silence, broken by thunderous applause, gasps of astonishment, and the voices of the judges, created an atmosphere heavy with tension and mystery, as if the fate of every adventurer hung in a fragile balance.

  As Zeyne watched, his mind drifted back to that familiar sensation: the power to see the future, a gift he had already experienced three times before.

  "The future again?" he wondered, a mix of awe and concern running through his thoughts. Each time, the vision had emerged at a critical moment, like a flash of light in a tunnel of darkness, revealing with absolute clarity the enemy’s weakness or the decisive moment to seize.

  This time, as he observed another match, a fleeting image surfaced in his mind: a vivid recollection of a past duel, where a single instant of intuition had changed the course of the battle.

  "What does all of this mean?" he murmured aloud, almost afraid of the answer. His power was an enigma—a secret only he possessed, yet he couldn't fully grasp how it worked.

  His gaze grew intense, his eyes betraying his unease and a faint sense of foreboding. The echo of the vision lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of ambiguity: it was a gift, yes, but one that could just as easily become a curse.

  Beside him, Lia immediately noticed the disturbance in Zeyne’s expression. With slow, deliberate steps, she approached and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  "Zeyne, I know this power frightens you," she said calmly, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

  Zeyne lifted his gaze, meeting hers with eyes that revealed a deep internal struggle.

  "It’s strange, Lia… Every time I feel it, I wonder if it's a gift or a condemnation. The future appears to me once more, and I don't know if I’m ready to bear its weight."

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  The young woman smiled softly, trying to offer reassurance.

  "You’re not alone in this, Zeyne. I’m here with you, and together we’ll face every shadow that fate throws our way. Perhaps, in time, you’ll learn to use it to your advantage, without letting it crush you."

  Her words, simple yet sincere, sought to ease the tension that seemed to envelop him, while he silently wondered how this vision would once again shape the course of his life.

  As the preliminary battles came to an end, the arena suddenly grew quieter, as if everyone’s breath was held in anticipation of a new announcement. An authoritative voice echoed once again through the speakers:

  "Adventurers, listen! Only 32 fighters remain. The next stages of the tournament will be even more demanding and ruthless. Prepare yourselves, for the path to triumph knows no mercy."

  That declaration sent a tremor through the air, as the realization of reaching a crucial phase settled in the hearts of those present. With fewer adventurers remaining, the significance of each duel increased, and the weight of fate seemed to press down even more intensely on every fighter.

  Zeyne, his mind still wandering through the images of his vision, watched the crowd react with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The judges once again cast sharp, evaluating glances, while Count Armand and the Lone Wolf mentally noted the day’s performances.

  With the night now well advanced, the city of Ravenhold was enveloped in an almost unreal silence. The arena lights dimmed, giving way to long shadows and a hush filled with promises and fears.

  For a brief moment, Zeyne retreated to a small guild chamber to catch his breath and reflect on the path ahead. His mind still filled with images, his heart pounding, he thought:

  "Every battle is a lesson. The power to see the future guides me, but at the same time, it forces me to face choices I still don’t know how to handle. Tomorrow, when the new day rises, I will have to confront these shadows and turn them into light."

  Beside him, Lia sat in silence, her face illuminated by the faint glow of a candle, ready to support him once again.

  In a low voice, yet filled with determination, Zeyne spoke:

  "Tomorrow marks a new phase. Now we are 32, and each battle will be even more crucial. I must learn to master this power, to understand whether it is the key to my future or the weight that will crush me."

  His words, filled with uncertainty and hope, merged with the silence of the night as the young fighter prepared to write a new chapter of his story, aware that the future, with all its shadows, was yet to be unveiled.

  As the first day came to an end and the announcement of the next phases cast an even darker shadow over the competition, Zeyne closed his eyes, letting himself be carried by the anticipation of the coming day. The mystery of his power and the burden of his visions remained uncertain, but his resolve to face destiny—one duel at a time—burned brightly within his heart.