Reborn as the Last van Ambrose

The walk back to the competitors’ area was more challenging than Grim had anticipated. The adrenaline that had carried him through the match was fading rapidly, allowing the Ghost Veil poison to reassert its hold on his body. Each step required conscious effort, and the burning sensation from Feng’s fire techniques added another layer of discomfort.

By the time he reached his assigned preparation space, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his vision occasionally blurred at the edges. He needed to focus on purging the poison before his condition deteriorated further.

But as he turned the corner to his section, Grim stopped abruptly. Someone was waiting for him. A young woman seated casually on the his bench as if she belonged there.

She was breathtaking, her delicate features accentuated by striking crimson lips that contrasted with her pale skin. Her brown hair fell in lush waves over her bare shoulders, highlighted with chestnut undertones that caught the light. She wore a backless black gown with elegant gold embroidery tracing down its length, the fabric clinging to her curves before cascading to the floor with a high slit revealing a glimpse of leg. A high choker adorned her slender neck, and elaborate gold earrings dangled alongside her face. But most arresting were her eyes. They were amber and intense, framed by long lashes, watching him with undisguised interest.

She smiled, clearly enjoying his confusion. "You don’t recognize me, do you?"

Grim’s hand moved instinctively to Echo’s hilt. "You’re in my preparation area."

"That’s not a proper greeting," she replied, rising from the bench. "Especially for your dance partner."

[Oh, I remember her.] The voice said.

"Who are you?" Grim demanded, refusing to play whatever game this stranger had initiated.