Ascendant of Shadows: The Monarch and The Eminence

The return to normalcy was, in a word, awkward.

For the students of the Midgar Royal Spellsword Academy, the world had lurched back onto its axis, but it was tilted. The "War of the Heroes" in the courtyard was now a forbidden topic, a traumatic memory that teachers and knights alike refused to discuss. Yet, everyone remembered. They remembered the demonic sword of ice, the swirling blade of shadow, and the two boys who had vanished like gods.

So when Cid Kagenou and Sung Jin-woo quietly reappeared in their classes a few days later, the reaction was not one of celebration, but of profound, nervous silence. Students would part like the Red Sea when they walked down the hall. No one made eye contact. No one dared to even whisper the word "Jinx." They were living myths, and no one wanted to risk angering them.

For Jin-woo, this was a welcome, if unsettling, peace. For Cid, it was a minor downgrade.

The most immediate problem was the one Cid had been looking forward to: the postponed conclusion of the Festival of the War God.

The kingdom, in an effort to restore a sense of normalcy, had decided to proceed with the final rounds. The semi-final match between Cid and Jin-woo, however, was a source of great debate in the royal palace.

"We cannot let them fight!" one minister argued. "What if they lose control again? The arena would be leveled!"

"But we cannot simply cancel the match," another countered. "It would show fear! The people need to see that the situation is 'under control'!"

The compromise came from Princess Iris, who was now the unwilling warden of the two "phantoms." The match would proceed, but it would be a "supervised exhibition." She herself would be the referee, and a dozen of her best Crimson Knights would be on standby, ready to erect a maximum-security barrier at the first sign of trouble.

The day of the match arrived. The arena was packed, but the mood was not festive. It was tense, like a crowd gathering for a public execution.

In the center of the arena, Iris Midgar stood, her face a mask of cold steel. "Contestants," she announced, her voice magically amplified. "This is an exhibition match. The first to be forced from the ring, or to concede, loses. Understood?"

Cid, in his simple training uniform, gave a nervous, shaky nod. Jin-woo just stared blankly.

"Begin!" Iris commanded, her hand already resting on the hilt of her sword.

Cid charged, just as he had in their "real" fight, his wooden sword held awkwardly. He swung wildly, a series of sloppy, telegraphed moves.

Jin-woo, with the barest minimum of movement, sidestepped each one. He looked less like a fighter and more like someone politely avoiding a drunk man in a crowded bar.

The crowd watched in baffled silence. This wasn't the god-like battle they had feared. This was... pathetic.

Iris's eyes narrowed. This was it. The "act." The flawless, infuriating performance of mediocrity. She watched their feet, their balance, their breathing. Cid's "clumsy" moves were executed with the balance of a master dancer. Jin-woo's "bored" evasions were so efficient they were practically precognitive. They were mocking her. They were mocking everyone.

After a minute of this embarrassing display, Cid prepared for his final move. He lunged forward, ready to execute his perfectly choreographed trip that would send him tumbling out of the ring.

It was at that moment that something unexpected happened.

Jin-woo felt it first. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the air. A distortion. It was the signature of the Weaver of Fate. Not an attack, but... an echo. A lingering piece of his will, or perhaps a "parting gift" from the new Author King.

The "unlucky" patch of ground that Cid was aiming for suddenly became "lucky." The loose pebble he was planning to trip on vanished. The slight imperfection in the stone floor that would have caught his heel smoothed itself over.

Cid's perfectly planned trip... had nothing to trip on.

His forward momentum, which he had fully committed to, now carried him forward without impediment. He stumbled, not in the way he had planned, but in a genuine, off-balance lurch.

Jin-woo, expecting the trip, had already moved into his "surprised bystander" position. Cid's unexpected, genuine stumble sent him crashing directly into Jin-woo.

The two of them, the two most powerful beings in their respective realities, collided with all the grace of a collapsing building. They became a tangled mess of limbs, their momentum sending them tumbling across the arena floor in a ridiculous, rolling heap.

The entire arena, including Iris, stared in stunned, slack-jawed silence.

The tangled ball of heroes rolled... and rolled... and rolled... until it crossed the boundary line of the arena.

They came to a stop in a heap outside the ring. Cid was on top of Jin-woo, their limbs entangled, both of them covered in dust.

A long, painful silence descended.

Iris Midgar slowly, hesitantly, walked over to the edge of the ring. She looked down at the two of them. They had both fallen out of the ring. Simultaneously.

"The... the match is a... draw?" the announcer stammered into his microphone, utterly bewildered.

It was the most ridiculous, most unbelievable, most profoundly stupid outcome imaginable.

Iris looked at the two of them, then up at the sky, a deep, existential weariness washing over her. She couldn't even be angry. The universe itself was clearly conspiring to make a fool of her.

They were unceremoniously disqualified. The championship match was held between the two other semi-finalists, and no one cared. The legend of the "Dancing Duo" who had saved the kingdom was now permanently tainted by the legend of the "Tumbling Twosome" who had ended their own match in the most embarrassing way possible.

Their fame turned into a different kind of notoriety. They were no longer just feared. They were now also considered cosmic-level weirdos.

Later that evening, Jin-woo sat in the penthouse, a cold compress on his head, even though he had no injury. It was for the psychic damage.

The door opened, and Cid walked in, still humming with delight.

"Wasn't that magnificent?" Cid beamed. "Our reputation as serious, god-like threats is now completely undermined by our reputation as clumsy fools! It's the ultimate camouflage!"

Before Jin-woo could respond, a message from Alpha came through their minds. It was accompanied by an image—a satellite map of a remote desert on the other side of the planet.

Jin-woo sat up. Cid's happy humming stopped. The intermission was over.

He looked at Cid, a new resolve in his eyes. Their lives were a chaotic mess of epic battles and ridiculous slapstick. It was infuriating. It was exhausting.

And a tiny, treacherous part of him was starting to find it fun.