The First Elder, seated atop the podium, watched the unfolding battles with a deep-set frown. Though his expression remained pensive rather than overtly alarmed, his gaze lingered on Liora's earlier performance. He stroked his beard thoughtfully, an old memory stirring in his mind.
"That swordsmanship…" he murmured under his breath, eyes glinting with rare interest. The smooth, flowing movements of her blade had stirred a recollection long buried. I've seen such mastery before—or at least a shadow of it. He inclined his head slightly, impressed. "A rare talent to perceive the flow of the sword so naturally at her age. The girl might become someone remarkable."
The other elders beside him nodded in agreement, though one remained wary.
"Still," the elder said firmly, "we must ensure safety above all else. If the intensity rises beyond their control, we step in. No hesitation."
The First Elder gave a slight wave of his hand, acknowledging the sentiment. "We shall see. Youths must be tempered, but not broken."
Now, however, all eyes turned to the next duel.
Garic Stormblade versus Ronald Stormbreaker.
The energy in the arena thickened. Unlike earlier matches, this felt different—dangerous.
Garic strode into the arena, his crimson blade resting on his shoulder, an arrogant smirk plastered across his face.
"Well, well. Ronald Stormbreaker." His voice dripped with condescension. "They sent you to fight me? I almost feel insulted."
Ronald stepped into position, twin swords drawn, his stance measured but tense. "Keep talking, Garic. Maybe it'll distract you when I win."
Garic laughed, a cruel sound that echoed across the grounds. "Win? You couldn't even scratch me on your best day." His eyes gleamed maliciously. "Don't worry—I'll make this quick."
Ronald rolled his shoulders, ignoring the crowd's hushed whispers. "We'll see about that."
Garic didn't hesitate. He charged like a storm, his massive blade whistling through the air as he swung with brutal, bone-crushing force.
Ronald's eyes widened as he barely sidestepped, the wind from Garic's strike ruffling his hair.
Too fast.
Before he could recover, Garic's sword came down again—this time from above.
Ronald crossed his twin blades just in time to block the blow, but the sheer weight of Garic's attack sent him skidding backward. His arms burned from the impact, the ground beneath him cracking.
Garic straightened, disappointment etched across his face. "Is that it? This is the great Stormbreaker I keep hearing about?"
Ronald gritted his teeth and surged forward, launching a series of swift strikes.
"Dual Blade Art—Razor Gale!"
His swords blurred, arcs of silver flashing toward Garic's chest.
Garic barely moved. With a flick of his wrist, he swatted Ronald's strikes aside like they were child's play. Sparks erupted as steel met steel, but Garic's expression remained unimpressed.
"Pathetic."
He jabbed forward with the hilt of his sword, catching Ronald square in the ribs. Ronald gasped, stumbling back as the air whooshed from his lungs.
Garic Plays with Ronald
The crowd grew silent as the imbalance in power became clear.
Garic twirled his sword lazily, his sneer returning. "This is boring. At least try to make me sweat, will you?"
Ronald pushed himself upright, his breathing ragged but his grip on his swords steady. "I'm not done yet."
"Oh?" Garic feigned interest. "Then by all means—keep entertaining me."
Ronald darted in again, his movements sharp and desperate. He struck low, then high, his swords moving in quick succession.
Garic yawned. With deliberate slowness, he parried every attack. "Is this all the mighty Stormbreaker has? A few weak little slashes?"
He stepped in suddenly, slamming his elbow into Ronald's shoulder. Ronald cried out, tumbling backward and landing hard on one knee.
The crowd gasped, murmurs spreading like wildfire.
Ronald pushed himself up again, his gaze burning with determination. Garic paused, smirking down at him. Then his voice dropped, venomous and mocking.
"You know, all this effort… is it for her?"
Ronald froze, his blood turning to ice. "What did you say?"
Garic's smirk widened. "Oh, you know who I mean. Little Lena."
Ronald's hands shook around his swords. "Don't—"
"Poor girl," Garic continued, his tone dripping with false pity. "Bedridden, sickly, weak. And here you are, playing hero instead of being there when she finally…" He let the words hang, savoring the moment. "Well, let's just say winter's not kind to fragile little things like her."
"Shut up," Ronald whispered, his voice trembling.
Garic leaned in, his eyes alight with cruelty. "Face it, Stormbreaker. You're weak, just like her. It's only a matter of time before—"
"Shut up!"
The shout cracked through the air like thunder.
Ronald lunged forward, his entire body surging with sudden, reckless fury.
Dual Blade Art—Second Form: Crescent Cascade!"
Ronald's blades spun in a desperate spiral, silver energy lashing out in wild arcs. His strikes came faster, harder, driven by sheer anger and desperation.
Garic's expression shifted as he raised his sword to block. For the first time, he took a step back under the force of Ronald's assault.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The sound of clashing steel reverberated across the arena. Sparks flew as Ronald's blades struck Garic's again and again, his attacks relentless.
But the gap in strength was still there.
Garic recovered, his smirk returning. He deflected Ronald's final blow with a heavy parry, sending him stumbling back.
Ronald stood panting, sweat dripping down his face, his eyes blazing with anger.
Garic chuckled darkly, brushing dust off his shoulder. "There it is—that fire. But fire without power is meaningless."
He pointed his massive blade at Ronald, a cruel glint in his eye. "I'll break you, Stormbreaker. And when I do, you'll know what true helplessness feels like."
Ronald tightened his grip on his swords, his shoulders trembling from exhaustion, but his feet stayed planted. His voice was hoarse, but steady.
"You… can't break me."
Garic's grin widened. "We'll see about that."
Garic Stormblade raised his massive blade high, the bloodlust in his eyes undeniable. He was about to deliver the final, crushing blow to Ronald Stormbreaker, his opponent who had already been battered beyond recognition. The crowd held its breath, sensing the end was near.
But as Garic swung his sword down with lethal force, a sudden flash of movement cut through the air.
Clang!
Garic's strike was stopped mid-flight by a powerful block—someone had intervened. The force of the blow reverberated through the arena as Garic staggered slightly from the unexpected resistance.
He looked up in confusion, meeting the gaze of the figure who stood between him and his opponent. The mysterious person, cloaked in shadows, stood still and unyielding. Their presence was commanding, and the energy around them seemed to crackle with dangerous intensity.
Garic's eyes narrowed, the arrogance still evident in his voice. "Who dares…?"
The figure's voice was cold, almost chilling. "Do you want to die, Garic Stormblade?"