The coliseum roared with anticipation. The battle between Elara and Aria had been a spectacle of raw determination against overwhelming might, but now, something else entirely was brewing.
A different kind of battle.
Not one fought purely with strength.
But with vengeance.
Cruzer stood at one end of the arena, rolling his shoulders as he slowly unsheathed his Abyssal Shardblade. The moment the weapon left its scabbard, a pulse of void energy rippled through the air, dark tendrils coiling around the blade's edge before dissipating into nothingness. His crimson eyes gleamed with something cold, something razor-sharp.
Across from him, Alisha stood tall, her posture rigid, her hand gripping the hilt of her rapier—a sleek, silver weapon that shimmered with refined precision. Her gaze locked onto him, expression unreadable, but the tension between them was suffocating.
They hadn't spoken in a long time.
Not since that day.
