My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 875: The Finals: Battle of the rivals (part-1)

Zion scratched the back of his neck, looking mildly embarrassed. "I'm just curious. Things… don't always seem so clear when emotions are involved."

Azzy exhaled, his tone turning thoughtful.

"Zion," he began, stepping closer. "The god we invoke when swearing vows—Zeus—married his own sister."

Zion blinked.

Azzy smiled faintly. "And who do we pray to during wedding rites? Hera, who is his wife—and also his sister, who shares the same mother and father."

Zion's eyes widened.

"In the wild," Azzy went on, voice calm but edged with quiet intensity, "monsters mate with their own offspring to preserve their bloodline and hold over the domain. They don't question it. They don't debate morality."

He looked Zion in the eye.

"The gods don't care. The beasts don't care. So why should we pretend love obeys the rules?"

Zion opened his mouth, stunned.

But Azzy raised a hand."I'm not saying everything is right just because it exists. What I'm saying is—love is love. It doesn't care for age. For gender. Or even… for relationships."

Zion felt a cold ripple crawl down his spine. His breath hitched slightly. It was not revulsion—but something else. Realization. A dawning discomfort that clashed with the clarity of Azzy's words.

Azzy's expression shifted—his eyes narrowing slightly, as if to test Zion's resolve.

"But," he added, "we are not gods. Nor are we beasts."

His voice softened again, though it never lost its weight.

"We live in a society, Zion. In society, relationships come with boundaries. Some of those boundaries can be challenged. Others exist for a reason. And it's your duty to understand the difference."

He stepped away, folding his hands behind his back now.

"Because if you cross a line that shouldn't be crossed, out of love, or lust, or loneliness, you might not only ruin yourself. You'll hurt others, too."

Zion looked down.

Azzy paused. Then, with no hesitation, said: "As for your assumption…"

Zion's eyes shot back up.

"If one day you fall in love with one of my sisters—or your aunts—and if that love is reciprocal… I wouldn't personally have any problem."

Zion's mouth opened in shock. "You mean that?"

Azzy nodded, completely calm.

"I don't believe the Clan would oppose it either. We live in a world with different cultures and different laws. Don't forget the Ash Clan, where twins—siblings—marry each other openly, and everyone is fine with it. It's part of their heritage."

He paused a moment longer.

"People will whisper. But they always do. What matters is what you're willing to live with, and who you're willing to live for."

Zion stood frozen, taking in the full weight of his father's words.

And just as silence settled between them again… 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Fiona stirred.

Her brows furrowed for a moment. Her hand twitched slightly.

Neither Azzy nor Zion noticed, though.

*

After a while, A few minutes after Zion's departure from the ward, Azzy heard a rough whisper from the bed.

"Azrael."

His eyes widened slightly. He turned to her.

Fiona's eyes fluttered open, sluggish at first but sharp with awareness beneath the fatigue. Her lashes trembled as she slowly adjusted to the dim light.

"You're awake," Azzy said, surprised. "I thought you'd be out until morning."

Fiona blinked. "I woke up a bit earlier but tried to fake unconscious."

Azzy's brows furrowed. "Since when?"

She didn't meet his gaze, choosing instead to focus on the threads of the blanket clutched in her hand. "Since the beginning," she admitted softly. "Shortly after your arrival."

"That means it's been more than two hours. Then how come you didn't talk to me?"

A pause.

"I was too embarrassed to face you. Won the match, but…" her voice wavered, "it feels like I lost. Damaging my soul orb like that… it wasn't worth it. Not really."

Azzy watched her carefully, his gaze steady and unreadable. "There is only win or lose in a match," he said finally. "You won. He lost. That's it."

Fiona gave a dry smile, tinged with exhaustion. "You make it sound simple."

"Because it is," Azzy replied.

A brief silence fell between them. Fiona's breathing steadied. Then, she turned to him again—this time, more alert, more resolute. "So… will you restore my soul orb?"

Azzy didn't respond immediately. His fingers tapped against his knee once… then stopped.

He studied her closely. "You're sure?"

"Yes." Her voice carried no hesitation now. "Tomorrow's match… It's important to me. I've forfeited all rewards. I don't care about being a champion. Or runner-up. I just want to fight him. That's all."

A pause.

Then, she added something quietly—so quietly, he almost missed it: "Can you help me, brother?"

Azzy froze. His breath caught for a bit.

In all the months they'd spoken, she had never once called him that. It was always "Lord Garcia" in public. "Azrael" in private. Never brother.

He didn't show it outwardly, but something stirred within his chest.

Azzy sighed, the tension slipping from his shoulders. "Fine."

He stood and walked over, placing two fingers gently against her forehead. The Jewel of Life appeared on his forehead, and the life energy flew from his palms into her body, repairing her soul orb in a matter of seconds.

"Let's consider it a delayed birthday gift," he said.

Fiona's eyes softened. "Thank you." She whispered.

Azzy didn't reply. But as he watched her slowly drift back into a trance, his hand lingering for just a second longer on her brow, his heart felt… just a little lighter.

*

The next day;

The sun had risen high above the Grand Arena, casting golden light across the sweeping marble floors and gilded stands.

Thousands filled the coliseum, their cheers echoing like waves against the walls.

Screens lit up across every sector, broadcasting the final showdown that would decide this year's tournament champion.

And at the heart of it all—on the vast central platform—stood Fiona and Zion, just a few feet apart.

Wind tugged at Fiona's snow-white robe, the crystal tiara on her forehead glinting like morning frost. Zion, in contrast, stood tall in his deep gray combat vest, gloves tightened, brows furrowed.

Fiona was the first to break the silence. "I hope you're ready," she said coolly.

"I should say the same," Zion replied, then exhaled deeply. "Actually… I have something I need to tell you."

Fiona raised a brow. "Coincidentally… so do I."

They stared at each other for a moment, neither flinching.

Zion smiled faintly. "Then let's talk after the match."

Fiona's lips curved upward. "Agreed."

Across the arena, Affea stepped forward into the air, her boots hovering off the edge of the floating judge's platform. She raised her palm high, and an orb of silver energy formed in her hand, bright, pulsing.

"FINAL MATCH — BEGIN!"

She fired it skyward. The orb exploded in a burst of starlight, showering the arena with sparks like silent fireworks.

At that very instant, Fiona's body was enveloped in icy mist.

Her aura flared—no, erupted—as the very air turned brittle. Shards of snow floated around her like ethereal wings.

Behind her, Chione's Titan Form began to take shape once again.

Towering. Majestic. Serene and lethal.

The audience held their breath as her colossal figure stepped forward, eyes glowing with pale light, hands coated in shimmering frost.

Zion narrowed his gaze. "You're using that from the start?" he asked, voice low.

Fiona didn't hesitate. "Yes. I've decided to go all out."

Zion's fists clenched. "You're risking damaging your soul orb again. Are you planning to destroy it?"

"My soul orb," she answered firmly. "My choice."

Zion took a step back, tension flickering across his face.

But Fiona wasn't done. "If you don't want to fight seriously—if you want to give up—that's fine," she said. "But I should remind you…"

She lifted her chin, her voice sharpened. "Your father is watching."

Zion froze at those words.