SSS Rank: Spellcraft Sovereign-Chapter 112: Interviews (2)

Someone in the crowd yelled, "Tell him what you did to Rikta!"

Lucen muttered, "He did that to himself."

Another mic pushed in. "What about guild offers? Have you received any since the match ended?"

Gen cut in quick.

"No comment."

Lucen didn’t even flinch.

But his eyes narrowed as another glyph floated a little too close to his face.

He stared at it.

The red light dimmed.

Gen raised a hand. "We’re gonna end this here. The talent needs rest. He’s got a very tight schedule of doing nothing and avoiding responsibility."

Lucen added, "And hiding from fan nicknames."

"Ghostweave’s a hit," someone called out. "Own it, man!"

Lucen gave them the same look he’d give a spell that failed its casting structure.

Gen grabbed his sleeve and pulled gently.

"Let’s go, legend. Before they ask for dating history."

Lucen started walking again.

Another voice shouted behind him.

"Wait! Is it true you’re only seventeen?!"

Lucen didn’t turn.

He just muttered under his breath, loud enough for Gen.

"If they follow me home, I’m setting a trap glyph in the stairwell."

Gen smirked. "That’s the spirit."

—

They were half a block from Lucen’s building when it happened.

A voice, high-pitched, slightly wheezy, and way too excited, cut through the air like someone had just spotted a rare mount drop in real life.

"There you are! I’ve been running for six blocks!"

Lucen closed his eyes.

Gen didn’t even turn. He just said, "Oh no."

Footsteps slapped pavement behind them.

Lucen opened one eye just in time to see her, Zey, the same girl from the arena, sprinting toward them with a wrist-cam strapped tight and a bouncing energy that clearly hadn’t been regulated by sleep or shame.

She stopped too fast, slid slightly on the concrete, then planted her boots like she was landing a scene in a drama.

"Do you know how many people I had to cut past?" she gasped, clutching her knees for breath. "There were, like, four reporters and a guy trying to sell commemorative stickers."

Lucen stared at her. "Stickers?"

"Yeah," she said, panting, "with your face. And one with just your elbow. Just the elbow. It’s kind of iconic now."

Gen grinned. "You gonna sign that?"

Lucen looked at him flatly. "Do I look like I sign things?"

Zey straightened, fixed her hair, then raised her wrist-cam and hit the glow.

"Okay, so! Ghostweave. First off—insane fight. Like, genuinely unhinged. That fake-cast into the step-through kick? Poetry."

Lucen muttered, "That was barely choreography."

"It was art," Zey said, breathlessly sincere. "You know how long I’ve been trying to catch a good up-and-comer for my stream? You’re the first guy I’ve seen in months who isn’t just spam-casting and praying."

"I do pray," Lucen said. "Mostly that people leave me alone."

Zey grinned wider. "No chance."

Gen leaned against a street pole, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold like a well-earned break.

Zey waved her free hand. "Okay okay, quick questions. Just three. For the stream. You don’t even have to say your real name."

Lucen raised an eyebrow. "I wasn’t going to."

"Perfect," she said brightly. "One: how do you stay that calm in a match? Like, is it meditation? A secret focus spell? Emotional trauma?"

Lucen blinked.

Then said, "Lunch."

Zey laughed. "You’re joking."

"No," Gen said, deadpan. "He gets mean when he’s hungry. That calm you saw? That was low blood sugar."

Zey grinned, pointed at Gen. "That is content. Okay, two: Are you planning on taking more arena matches, or are you just out here punking A-ranks for fun?"

Lucen shrugged. "Depends who pays."

Gen added, "He accepts tips in mana crystals or grocery coupons."

Zey cackled. "You guys are gonna be a whole brand if you’re not careful."

Lucen stared at her. "That’s my nightmare."

Zey stepped slightly closer. "Okay, last question—big one. Are the Ghostweave combos actual spells, or are you freestyling those?"

Lucen tilted his head.

’Dangerously close to the truth.’

He said instead, "I don’t know what I’m doing."

Zey narrowed her eyes, smiling. "That can’t be true."

Lucen glanced at Gen.

Gen smirked and said, "It’s technically true. Which makes it even scarier."

Zey beamed. "Okay. That’s gold. I won’t keep you—unless you want to plug anything?"

Lucen blinked again. "Like what? My building?"

"Okay, wow. You’re exhausting. But in a way I respect."

Lucen turned to leave. "Then respect me by letting me walk home."

Zey waved as they walked off. "I’m tagging you ’Ghostweave’ on the upload!"

Lucen raised a hand without turning around.

Middle finger up.

Zey laughed so hard she almost dropped her cam.

—

Lucen made it up the stairs without being stopped again, which was a miracle on its own.

Gen peeled off two blocks ago, said something about sending clip edits and ordering food. Lucen didn’t argue. He was too busy pretending he wasn’t limping.

The building’s old auto-lock buzzed once as his system pinged it. The door slid open like it was embarrassed to be seen doing its job.

Cooler air inside. Familiar. Slight scent of fried spice from the neighbor’s place, something halfway between mana powder and cheap meat.

Lucen stepped in. Let the door shut behind him.

He kicked off his boots by muscle memory.

Didn’t even glance up until—

"Good footwork," said a voice from the couch.

Lucen froze.

Looked over.

Varik sat in the corner seat like it belonged to him. Same coat. Same unreadable face. A half-empty drink rested on Lucen’s coffee table. Not even in a coaster.

Lucen stared at him for a beat.

Then said, "I didn’t give you a key."

Varik gestured vaguely toward the panel near the door. "You left the security glyph unchanged."

"That’s not an invitation."

"It’s an oversight."

Lucen exhaled slowly. "You’re like a break-in tutorial."

Varik looked at him. "And you’re on every stream in the city right now."

Lucen walked past him, grabbed a drink from the fridge, no fizz this time. Just water.

He dropped onto the armrest instead of the other side of the couch.

"So?" he asked, drinking. "You here to lecture me about being visible?"

"No," Varik said. "You were going to get spotted eventually."

Lucen looked at him sideways. "Then why are you sitting in my apartment like a cursed roommate?"

Varik didn’t smile. "Because you’re ready for something worse."

Lucen took another drink. "’Worse’ sounds promising."

Varik leaned forward slightly.

"You’ve done solo rifts. Controlled arenas. Fights where the worst-case scenario is embarrassment or bruises. Now I want to see you in something messy. No cameras. No boundaries."

Updated from fr𝒆ewebnov𝒆l.(c)om