My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 860: Orion vs Grimm (part-1)

"Orion. You were late by 3 hours…" Leah said, looking down at him.

He forced a smile. "I, uh… I had an emergency."

She ignored the lie. She said, "Either way, I've already spoken to the committee. We've decided to let you in and finish off your match… but only under a condition."

Orion perked up, relieved by the hope. "Anything." He was afraid that this woman would make it tough for her because of his bad relationship with Zion, but thankfully, she isn't. Or so he thought for a moment.

But then, she stepped closer, her eyes narrowing like sharpened blades as she spoke. "In truth, the condition was set by your father."

Orion's breath caught. "Yes?"

"He said: In your next match, you are to end the fight within five minutes. No more, no less. If you fail, you withdraw from the tournament. No second chances. It was only under this condition that you are allowed to participate, because if you could do that, it means you have the potential to make it to the top 8, for which we can slide some mistakes."

Silence hung between them like a blade for a few seconds.

Leah looked at him and said. "These were Azrael's exact words. I didn't change a single word. So, will you accept it or will you not?"

Orion stood frozen. The heat of the midday sun was nothing compared to the condition he had to abide. "Five minutes to win… or I'm out," he muttered.

Leah nodded once. "Yes, even if you win, if you take more than five minutes, it's as if you lose the match. So, what will you do, Orion?"

After a while,

Orion pushed open the glass-paneled doors, his steps slower than usual, his expression unreadable as he entered the waiting hall.

The digital board above flickered, Match 6: Concluded. Match 7: Preparing.

Orion's name blinked under Match 12.

A sigh of relief slipped past his lips. "There's still time."

But he didn't get far before a familiar voice sliced through the low murmur.

"Where the hell were you?"

Fiona stood by the water dispenser, arms folded tightly, brows drawn in suspicion and concern.

Orion blinked. "Huh?"

"I sent you messages all morning. You didn't even respond."

As he didn't have a phone, he instinctively reached for the slim, translucent card embedded in his belt. With a flick of divine energy, the faintly glowing surface came to life.

"There's nothing," he muttered. "Dad said the message card can store unread messages for a week."

Fiona's eyes narrowed in confusion. "That doesn't make sense. I sent at least five during the past three hours."

Orion looked up at her, something uncertain flickering in his gaze. "Maybe they didn't deliver?"

"Or…" Fiona's voice lowered, her mind racing, "maybe they were intercepted."

A brief silence fell between them. Neither said it aloud, but both were now thinking the same thing—someone tampered with his messages.

Before Fiona could press further, Orion's eyes wandered to the nearby screen listing today's fixtures. He caught a name.

Grimm burst up behind him again, dagger slicing through the air like lightning. Orion spun, drawing his bow mid-motion, firing a divine arrow—SNAP!

It hit the shadow as Grimm retreated into his form again. No damage.

"He's baiting me," Orion realized, leaping up just as a tendril of shadow wrapped around his ankle.