The quarterfinals would take place the next day, and the generals, still half-high from Damien's performance, dragged him out to dinner like proud, unhinged uncles.
They took him to a loud, crowded open-roof grill house near the edge of the academy, complete with sizzling plates of meat, jugs of mana-enhanced beer, and glowing skewers that exploded in your mouth with tiny bursts of spice.
General Hong Fei slapped Damien on the back so hard his ribs groaned in protest. "You! You brat! You've got some damn moves!"
"Pure artistry!" General Maru declared, spinning his chopsticks like a fan. "No wasted motion! I thought you'd stall out in the first ten seconds, but no—you just walked in and diced up that kid like a melon!"
General Riki nodded solemnly. "You've earned this meal, young Bloodbane. But more importantly… it's time we ask the real questions."
Damien, chewing on a piece of grilled mushroom, narrowed his eyes warily. "What questions?"
