The corridor lights dimmed as the team made their way back toward the dormitories, the faint hum of

  the central lifts echoing off the alloy walls. The sound of distant voices and celebration still lingered

  from the feast hall, but up here the mood was quieter, more grounded. The kind of quiet that came

  when victory had settled, and reality began to move again.

  Bash walked at the front of the group, eyes half-focused on the floor ahead. His armor’s surface had

  cooled completely, the faint warmth from the match replaced by a calm, neutral hum.

  “We should talk to our SCs tonight,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Figure out what we’re

  asking for tomorrow before we go down to the blacksmiths. Each of you needs to discuss with your

  core what gear and imbuements will best fit your loadout.”

  Taren nodded. “You mean actual synergy, not just better numbers.”

  “Exactly,” Bash replied. “No point in wasting a T3G slot on something that doesn’t match how you

  fight. Once your SCs have suggestions, then we will go down to the blacksmiths and imbuers and

  confirm they can actually build it. Some combinations sound good until you try to make them real.”

  Rixor let out a small laugh. “Sounds like you’re already planning half of mine.”

  Bash gave him a half-smile. “Not this time. We’ve all got different needs now. Figure out what fits your

  style and your imbuement patterns.”

  They reached the dorm wing, the corridor lights cycling down to low power. Calen stretched, yawning.

  “Fine. But if my SC suggests another blade type, I’m deleting her personality file.”

  Liora smirked. “You’ve said that three times.”

  “Yeah, and every time she’s still right,” he muttered, pushing open his door.

  One by one, the others peeled away into their quarters until only Bash remained in the corridor. He

  stood for a moment outside his door, then sighed and keyed it open.

  Inside, the room was quiet except for the low, constant rhythm of the filtration vents. He sat down on

  the edge of his bunk, took off his bracers, and leaned back.

  “Alright, S-C,” he thought. “Let’s talk.”

  Her voice materialized smoothly in his mind, precise but gentle.

  “Congratulations again, Bash,” S-C said, her tone even but carrying a faint note of pride. “A

  statistically rare outcome. No Novarch has ever completed their tournament cycle undefeated.”

  Bash exhaled through a short laugh. “Yeah, well, no Novarch’s ever had to plan on going against the

  entirety of the Spartors either.”

  S-C paused, then replied softly, “Acknowledged.”

  “Thanks though,” he said. “But I need your help planning my next step.”

  “Already ahead of you.”

  The holographic display on his wrist flickered to life, projecting several gear outlines. “Based on your

  combat logs and energy profile, there are five primary upgrades that would yield optimal improvement

  for your current build: a new chest piece, a mid-range weapon, a cloak, a ring, and a necklace.”

  Bash leaned forward slightly. “No mention of upgrading my suit.”

  “Correct,” S-C replied. “Jouk’s warning still stands. Further modifications to your current armor risk

  exposure. It’s already drawing too much attention.”

  Bash frowned. “He never explained why.”

  “No,” S-C said quietly. “But you trust him.”

  Bash hesitated, then nodded once. “Yeah. I do.”

  “Then you should heed him.” S-C replied.

  He nodded slowly. “Ok. I’ll let it be.”

  “Good,” she said. “Now, your weapon configuration. You’ve relied heavily on the Razorvein blades,

  they remain viable and don’t need replacement. However, your combat data shows that in coordinated

  formations, you and Taren operate on the mid-line, Rixor, Darik, and Liora handle close-quarters

  engagement, while Calen and Nyra maintain ranged positions. Your role bridges those fronts, pressure

  and damage from mid-distance, with the mobility to reposition as needed. A weapon optimized for that

  range would strengthen the team’s overall balance.”

  Bash crossed his arms. “Something like what I had in the White Portals?”

  “Yes,” S-C replied instantly. “A high-powered sidearm, calibrated for mid-range impact and compatible

  with your relic. With the relic’s 10% base activation rate, it would be ideal for sustained engagements.

  The Razorvein blades can remain your close-range option.”

  He nodded, picturing the weapon in his mind, the clean rhythm of the old model’s recoil, the way it

  meshed with his throwing stance. “Alright. One T3G offhand firearm, same spec parameters.”

  “Good choice,” S-C said. “Now, regarding your secondary priorities. You should consider better

  damage reduction. A passive system that reduces incoming kinetic and elemental damage, possibly

  converting a percentage into restorative feedback.”

  “So, healing based on impact?”

  “In essence,” she replied. “Your armor handles multi-element absorption well, but against single-type

  attacks its mitigation efficiency drops sharply. An additional buffer could stabilize your health curve

  during extended fights.”

  “Yeah,” Bash said, rubbing his chin. “That would help.”

  S-C continued. “Next: synergy with your Echo Step greaves. You’ve been using them primarily for

  evasion, but there’s untapped potential. If you had equipment that amplifies your first strike or

  projectile velocity immediately after a teleport, it would enhance your burst damage by roughly 18%.”

  Bash smirked. “So, something that punishes repositioning?”

  “Exactly,” she said. “Several cloak-class imbuements exist that grant short-term power surges tied to

  displacement or reentry timing. I suggest you prioritize one of those.”

  “Alright,” he murmured. “A cloak with a displacement amplifier. Got it.”

  S-C paused, her tone softening slightly. “One more point, Bash. Your healing reliance is circumstantial.

  Most of your major restorations come from echo triggers. Without multiple damage types applied to

  you, your armor’s regeneration output is limited. You should look for something that compensates for

  that.”

  “Something self-healing?”

  “Precisely. Even a low-grade passive regeneration or conditional heal, something that scales with

  activity rather than damage intake.”

  He nodded again, thoughtful. “And you said five pieces total.”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “Chest for durability and recovery, firearm for range, cloak for burst

  amplification, ring for secondary mitigation or essence channeling, and a necklace for adaptive

  resonance, ideally one that stores excess healing and converts it into outgoing damage.”

  He raised a brow. “That’s a thing?”

  “Not common,” S-C replied, “but available in limited prototypes. It would allow your over-heal to feed

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  directly into your offensive output. Since you’re a damage-type Spartor, it aligns with your core

  function.”

  “Alright,” Bash said finally. “Chest, firearm, cloak, ring, necklace. Got it.”

  “Tomorrow,” she said, “visit the blacksmiths early. Confirm crafting availability before making the

  official request. Jouk will likely be there.”

  “Of course he will,” Bash muttered with a faint smile.

  He leaned back against the wall, letting the blue holographic projections fade out. The quiet hum of the

  dorm settled in again.

  “Anything else?”

  “One more thing,” S-C said softly. “You did well today.”

  Bash closed his eyes. “Thanks.”

  The lights dimmed on command, and he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Morning came quietly, the dorm lights warming from deep amber to white. The hum of ventilation

  mixed with the rustle of movement, armor segments locking, and cases opening.

  Bash sat up, stretching the stiffness from his shoulders. Across the room, Taren was already lacing her

  boots, while Rixor was hunched over his gauntlets, checking the fit. Nyra leaned against the wall near

  the mirror, fastening the clasp of her cloak with precise, practiced motions.

  “Did your SC keep you up all night too?” Rixor muttered without looking up.

  “Only half,” Bash said with a smirk. “Yours?”

  “It won’t stop talking about essence distribution ratios,” Rixor grumbled. “I think it’s trying to turn me

  into Nyra.”

  Nyra shot him a dry look. “You couldn’t handle the focus.”

  Taren snorted. “Feels weird not gearing up for a fight.”

  “We’re still gearing up,” Nyra said, faintly smiling. “Just differently.”

  Bash rose, tightening the wrist clasps on his undersuit. “Let’s move. The blacksmith’s bay opens early.

  Jouk should be there.”

  They stepped out together, the corridor already alive with the low chatter of other Spartors.

  The blacksmith district was alive with noise and heat when they arrived. Sparks sprayed across open

  workbenches. Massive furnaces glowed orange behind alloy partitions, their air hoods pulsing with

  rhythmic drafts. The scent of molten metal and ionized essence filled the air.

  Bash’s group moved between rows of craftsmen and imbuers, each station surrounded by holographic

  arrays of materials, blueprints, and active constructs. The faint hum of essence stabilizers created a low,

  constant vibration in the floor.

  Jouk was already waiting, standing near a counter lined with finished prototypes. “You’re early,” he

  said without looking up.

  “You told us to be,” Bash replied.

  “Good,” Jouk said. “Means you’re still listening.”

  He turned toward the table. “Alright, tell me what you’re requesting.”

  Bash stepped forward first. “A T3G offhand firearm, precision mid-range type, balanced for hybrid use,

  imbued with Kinetic Resonator. And a T3G cloak designed for mobility enhancement, carrying

  Temporal Afterimage.”

  Jouk gave a faint nod. “Good imbuements. The forges should be able to fulfill those requests without

  issue.”

  He paused, lowering his voice. “And Bash, remember no mention of armor.”

  Bash’s reply was quiet but firm. “Understood.”

  Taren followed. “Helm. Something with adaptive filtering and sensory boost. Imbuement, Guided

  Restoration.”

  Rixor stepped up next. “Gauntlets. Heavy model, impact converters. Imbuement, Blood Resonance

  Engine.”

  Nyra crossed her arms. “Chest piece. Energy-dampening and stabilizing. Imbuement, Resonant Siphon

  Matrix.”

  Jouk’s eyes moved between them, studying the list with quiet approval. “Solid selections. All within

  spec. You’ll have the pieces by morning.”

  He turned to the rest of the team. “The rest of you, choose from the armory inventory. Trade your Beast

  Fragments directly to the imbuers. Focus needs to be Tier Twos only.”

  Rixor whistled softly. “And here I was worried we’d have to wait weeks.”

  “Military priority,” Jouk said. “Champion team gets processed first.”

  As the team split up to the various workbenches, Bash caught sight of Darik near the far end, talking

  animatedly with one of the imbuers. He returned a few minutes later, grinning.

  “Five T2Gs,” Darik said proudly.

  Rixor blinked. “Five? Why not three T2As like everyone else?”

  “Because five good effects beat three great ones,” Darik replied with a shrug. “I’d rather spread the

  field and stack more buffs.”

  Taren nodded thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. Lower grade, but wider synergy.”

  “Exactly,” Darik said. “More adaptability in early Grey runs.”

  They continued trading and discussing as they finalized their material exchanges. Beast Fragments

  clinked softly as they changed hands, glowing faintly in their containment tubes before being fed into

  the forges for processing.

  By the time the team was finished, their order receipts projected a full set of gear requests. Jouk

  reviewed each one, signing them digitally. “All accepted. Collection tomorrow morning in the main

  foundry. You’ll find everything ready by first light.”

  He looked around the group. “Use the rest of today to rest. Don’t head into the portals half-distracted.”

  The team nodded, thanking him before heading toward the cafeteria.

  The cafeteria was quieter than usual, the noise of the celebration gone. The tables had returned to their

  plain metallic state, the smell of processed nutrient packs back to normal.

  Rixor spread out a small holo-map of the Grey Portals. “Alright, we need to decide where we’re going

  first.”

  Nyra leaned in. “We’re not rushing in blind. Something manageable for our first run.”

  Calen pointed to one of the nodes. “Portal 317. High elemental signature, fire, mineral, wind. Projected

  output values are solid, and it’s marked with a Tier Two density rating.”

  Taren studied it for a moment. “That could work. Good starter run, high drop probability for elemental

  cores.”

  Darik grinned. “Plus, we traded all of our Tier Ones anyway. We’ll need new Fragments fast.”

  The group murmured in agreement. Even Bash found himself nodding. “Alright. Portal 317 it is. First

  Grey run.”

  Jouk’s voice carried from a nearby table. “I heard that. You’ll have your equipment in the morning.

  Report to the cafeteria first thing for gear inspection. Then you can proceed to portal staging.”

  The team lingered a while longer, trading small jokes and idle theories about what awaited in the Grey

  Portals. Eventually they stood, drifting back toward their dorms one by one.

  The halls were quiet again, the lights low. Bash found himself walking slower this time, letting his

  thoughts settle.

  Tomorrow they’d receive new weapons, new gear, new chances.