Sung-Il read the window twice.
[STRENGTH: 8]
[AGILITY: 7]
[VITALITY: 9]
[MAGIC: 8]
He had nearly died for four numbers. They were excellent numbers, naturally. He would have preferred to receive them beside a warm bath.
Renn shifted his hand. Sung-Il realised he was still holding it and let go immediately.
He had already been surprised by one private function. He did not need ’Draw’ becoming interested in the porter while they were shaking hands.
Brina leaned closer. "Something appeared?"
"I leveled up," he said quietly. "Rectum Analysis, Level 2. Everything went up by one."
He flexed his fingers. Pain crossed his palms. When he straightened to test the rest of his improved body, his ribs persuaded him to stop.
Brina put a hand on his shoulder.
"Stay there."
"I was checking whether it healed anything."
"Did it?"
"No. Very selective generosity."
The healer arrived carrying a leather bag. The pie seller directed her toward Renn and the cart driver, then pointed at Sung-Il.
"That one went under the gate."
"I also came out."
"Brina brought you out."
"A shared achievement."
The healer crouched before him and examined the blood seeping through his dressings. Her expression discouraged him from explaining how impressive he had been.
She washed his palms, replaced the bandages, and checked the shoulder that had carried the iron rail. He answered properly after Brina threatened to answer for him.
Nothing appeared broken. That was the pleasant part.
"No lifting or training today," the healer said. "Rest the shoulder. Come back tomorrow if you still can’t raise the arm comfortably."
"Can I watch the demonstrations?"
"From that crate."
He accepted the prescription. It included sitting down.
While she examined Renn’s hip, Guild workers cleared the spilled grain and roped off the damaged entrance. The gate remained supported by its locking bar and the thick timber beam. Workers used a smaller door farther along the wall to carry the demonstration equipment into the freight court.
The pie seller moved her stall back to give them room. Deliveries waited at the landing while assistants arranged benches beside the shops, away from the cart lane.
Lyra returned with his abandoned pie wrapped in clean paper.
"I was hoping somebody remembered my ration."
"Six-Ears has found crumbs under the bench."
"The other ration."
She handed him the pie. The paper rustled, and Six-Ears emerged immediately with a crumb on its nose. It stood against his boot and stretched both paws toward his lunch.
The rabbit stretched higher.
"You were terrible at lifting."
It tilted its head. One ear folded across its face.
Sung-Il broke off a little plain crust. Six-Ears took it in both paws, turned its back, and began eating.
"It did stay with you," Lyra said.
He looked down at the small yellow back. The rabbit had kept pulling his shirt when he could barely hold the gate.
"Yes," he said. "It did."
He rubbed its head with the back of his hand before returning to his pie.
Mara approached Sung-Il with Lani. The girl’s recovered shoe was dusty. She carried a painted wooden bean in each hand.
"Thank you for helping me."
Sung-Il had enjoyed being called brave. He had even considered mentioning the applause when applying for work.
The little girl made accepting praise much harder.
She hadn’t seen him considering the space behind the pie stall. She didn’t know he had wanted somebody else to go beneath the gate.
He accepted the bean carefully.
"Give Brina one too. She did the lifting."
Lani handed over the second bean, then examined his fresh bandages.
"When I get my gift, I’ll save you when you’re in trouble."
He opened his mouth, but she continued.
"I’ll practice a lot. Then I’ll be strong."
She looked so certain that he found himself smiling.
"Good. I get into trouble quite often."
"Don’t do it until I’m ready."
"I’ll try."
Lani nodded and returned to Mara. Sung-Il put the bean in his shirt pocket before Six-Ears could investigate it with its teeth.
Brina watched him tuck it safely away. Mercifully, she said nothing.
Across the court, someone struck a drum. Sung-Il looked up sharply.
"Another alarm?"
"The opening procession," Lyra said. "They delayed it while the injured were treated."
Workers were lifting green, blue, and white banners along the shop fronts. At the steps leading to the headquarters square, two musicians waited for a Guild assistant to clear their route.
Mara called the children together. Owen struggled to pull his repaired cardboard wall over his shoulders. Lani lifted her bean sack and hurried to join him.
The assistant approached their teacher.
"Around the shop side, please. You’ll finish beside the demonstration platform. We’re keeping everyone away from the damaged entrance."
Mara repeated the route to the children and counted them.
Beside Sung-Il, Lyra opened her notebook. He caught a glimpse of his name above several lines about the rescue.
"Include the applause."
"Already included. Also your warning about Renn’s grip and the part where you copied his stance."
"The official version includes your mistakes."
He decided not to inspect it further.
Lyra paused with her pen above the page. Then she leaned toward him, keeping her voice low.
"When I was helping Lani, you looked toward me and said, ’Not now.’"
His pie stopped halfway to his mouth.
"I thought you were speaking to me," she continued. "But you said it was nothing."
Brina turned toward them. She was close enough to hear.
Lyra lowered her notebook.
"Did you see my readings as well?"
Brina frowned.
Sung-Il looked from one woman to the other. His four improved numbers offered absolutely no assistance.
"It started," Sung-Il admitted quietly. "I stopped it before the reading appeared."
Brina’s frown deepened.
"Under the falling gate?"
"I was looking for somewhere to put my shoulder. The window started forming, so I dismissed it."
He looked at Lyra properly instead of trying to smile his way out of the conversation.
"I didn’t get a reading."
She studied him for a moment.
"Ask before deliberately examining me."
"I will."
"And watch the gate when you’re beneath a gate," Brina added.
He nodded. There were several replies available, and none would improve his afternoon.
The drums began before the conversation could get worse.
Two musicians descended the steps from the headquarters square. Behind them, workers carried a broad banner between wooden poles.
ASTERRA — CITY OF A THOUSAND GIFTS
People followed the banner down the steps, filling the space beside the shop fronts. Guild assistants kept the middle of the freight court clear for the procession. Deliveries waited at the landing, and the damaged gate remained behind its rope barrier.
A ribbon seller passed a basket along the benches, letting children choose strips to tie around their wrists. Near the steps, another woman raised both hands. Green ribbons lifted from a second basket and streamed above the musicians. White paper flowers followed, turning slowly before drifting toward the crowd.
Six-Ears stood on Sung-Il’s knee and reached for one.
"Paper."
The rabbit caught it anyway. He removed it from its little mouth before Six-Ears can chew it.
Three flute players followed the drums. Behind them, older pupils carried paintings fixed to broad wooden frames. Each frame needed a pupil at either end. The first showed travelers on a muddy road; the next showed wagons gathered around a cooking fire.
Mara’s five children marched behind the pictures. Owen led them with his cardboard wall repaired using several obvious strips of cloth. Lani walked near the back, holding her bean sack against her chest. When she spotted Sung-Il, she raised it.
He lifted his pie in reply. Brina glanced at him, but he was already lowering it. They had an established greeting. There was no reason to complicate it.
The procession stopped beside the low wooden platform. Assistants fitted the paintings into stands behind it while Mara gathered the children in front. The musicians finished their tune, and an official in a green Guild waistcoat rang a handbell.
"I am Examiner Hollen Reed. Before the demonstrations, let us remember why Asterra holds this tournament."