Back in the arena, Alexander had fully regained his footing, but his mind was racing. He had underestimated Roderick, and now he was paying the price. The duel wasn't over—not by a long shot. Every move from here on would need to be precise.
On the battlefield, Roderick's recovery was almost complete, his eyes gleamed with confidence as he began stretching his arms and legs, his magic-infused muscles rippling with every movement. He grinned, his expression smug, his voice filled with arrogance as he turned to face Alexander once again. "Surprised, commoner? Feeling a bit out of your depth now?"
Alexander didn't respond, and enhanced his barrier, his focus entirely on his opponent. Obviously, he couldn't match Roderick's physical strength and combat experience—not in this state. He needed to defend first and buy time, before found a way to turn this around.
Without warning, Roderick lunged. His speed was blinding, faster than anything Alexander had seen before. One moment, Roderick was standing across the battlefield; the next, he was right in front of Alexander, his fist flying toward his face with devastating force. The impact was enormous, the sheer force of the punch sending shockwaves through his shield and rattling his bones. He staggered back, the power of the blow overwhelming him.
"You're weak, Alexander," Roderick taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're nothing compared to me. You can't win this."
Roderick paced like a predator, his footwork was precise, each step calculated. He disappeared and reappeared around Alexander in all directions, moving like a wolf pack circling its prey, his fists and feet flying at Alexander with frightening speed. Punches collided with Alexander's hastily erected barriers, and each impact sent shockwaves through his body, and his defensive magic was weakening under the strain.
Alexander could feel his energy draining with every impact, his muscles straining, his breathing becoming more labored with each passing second. The decision was already made in his mind— then with a deep breath, the valve inside Alexander's heart opened, and with it came a surge of dark power. The energy that he had been suppressing for so long now coursed through his magic circuit like a flood.
Roderick leaped back again, putting distance between himself and Alexander. His eyes were fierce, focused, as he gathered his magic in an instant. It was clear he was preparing for a final, decisive strike. The energy surrounding him surged, glowing with a dangerous intensity, causing the very air around him to crackle with tension. Then, like a coiled spring, he burst forward, charging toward Alexander with the full weight of his magic behind him.
The distance between the two was barely a dozen meters—mere seconds for someone as fast as Roderick. In an instant, he closed the gap, his figure blurring as he entered striking range. His fist, blazing with magical energy, swung like a hammer through the air, with a fierce gust of wind, straight at Alexander's chest.
As Roderick's fist grew larger and larger in his field of vision, Alexander's expression remained indifferent. His eyes glinted with a dangerous light as he swiftly moved his hands, summoning black flames and merging them with his barrier, wrapping it in a cloak of darkness, their eerie glow flickering ominously in the air.
Seeing the black flames flicker to life around Alexander's magic barrier, Roderick's confident expression faltered for just a moment. But next, his eyes narrowed and fixed, and then he roared in defiance. With all the force he could muster, he swung his right fist, breaking through the black flames with sheer brute strength. His fist collided with Alexander's barrier, and with a loud crack, the barrier shattered. Before Alexander could react, Roderick's left fist crashed into his chest with crushing force, the impact sent him flying backward.
His body was hurled across the battlefield like a rag doll, blood spurting from his mouth as he crashed into the ground with a loud thud, skidding through the dirt and stirring up a thick cloud of dust.
The crowd erupted into gasps and murmurs. From the stands, Lira, who had been watching the fight with bated breath, gasped as she saw Alexander hit the ground, blood spurting from his mouth. A fierce surge of murderous intent coursed through her, and without thinking, she stood up, her magic flaring to life around her. Magic energy crackled at her fingertips, threatening to erupt, and her eyes glowed with rage.
"Lira, calm down!" Elara's voice cut through the haze of rage. Elara grabbed her hand in a panic. "Alexander is fine."
"He's still okay. I can sense his magic — he's not in immediate danger." Tomas, was watching intently, his magic sense still active, nodded quickly in agreement. "Trust him."
Lira hesitated, her magic slowly retracting as she sat back down, though her eyes remained fixed on Roderick with a look of cold fury.
On the battlefield, Alexander coughed, spitting blood onto the ground as he slowly staggered to his feet. His body felt like it was being torn apart from the inside, and his vision blurred from the pain. Every breath felt like a dagger to his chest, then he wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand and forced himself to stand tall. The dark power that had surged within him moments ago had nearly consumed him. He had been on the brink of losing control, he couldn't afford to tap into that energy any longer, and the risk was too great.
Roderick's brows furrowed in frustration as he looked down at his right hand. The black fire from Alexander's earlier attack clung to his skin, refusing to be extinguished. . The flames were relentless, eating away at his magic and refusing to die. Without a second thought, Roderick raised his left hand and conjured a magic blade, cutting off his own right hand at the wrist. Blood sprayed from the wound, his breathing heavy, but Roderick didn't flinch, he quickly used fire magic to cauterize the stump, stopping the bleeding with a hiss.
The severed hand, fell to the ground, engulfed in black flames and disintegrated. Roderick watched it burn with cold, detached eyes before turning his attention back to Alexander. His eyes narrowed, and the cold fury in them intensified. His gaze locked onto Alexander, his expression darkened, and without hesitation, he charged again, closing the distance between them with frightening speed.
"What a monster," Tomas muttered from the stands, his voice filled with both awe and fear. Elara nodded silently, her gaze never leaving the black fire, thoughtfully.
But just as Roderick launched his next attack, his heart gave a sudden, violent twitch, and the flow of magic in his body became erratic. His movements slowed for a fraction of a second, and his breathing hitched. He knew instantly what had caused it—the enhancement potion he had taken earlier.
Alexander saw the brief moment of weakness and seized it. With what little magic he had left, he gathered all of his normal energy he could call upon and focused it into one final attack. A fireball, smaller than any he had conjured before, formed in his palm. It was not flashy or grand, but it was precise — and it was aimed directly at Roderick's heart.