The arena buzzed with the anticipation, a pulsing energy that seemed to vibrate in the air itself. I held my position, taking in the chaos that erupted the moment the announcer's voice echoed across the battlefield.
Draven stormed forward like a wrecking ball, swinging wildly at anyone within reach. His massive fists slammed into the ground as Rowan leapt back, the heat of his flames creating a shimmering haze around him.
Lucian danced along the edge of the fray, his blade flashing as he deflected one of Rowan's fireballs. The embers fizzled harmlessly into the dirt. Calm, calculating—he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Kael, as I'd predicted, darted along the outskirts of the fight, dodging and weaving in a way that seemed more like desperation than strategy. Still, his narrow escapes seemed almost orchestrated by fate itself.
Draven roared, his fists pounding the ground in frustration as Rowan evaded yet another of his charges. The shockwave sent chunks of debris flying into the air. One of those chunks—an uneven slab of stone—careened straight toward Kael, who stumbled just in time for the projectile to miss him by inches.
He tripped, rolled awkwardly to his feet, and looked genuinely surprised to still be standing. The crowd gasped, some even laughing at his apparent clumsiness.
I frowned, my grip tightening on my blade. "Is it really just luck?" I murmured under my breath.
Kael caught my gaze and grinned sheepishly. Then he tripped again as Rowan's fire lashed out in his direction, narrowly avoiding being incinerated. He scrambled to his feet, patting himself down as if to ensure he was still in one piece.
"No way," I muttered, shaking my head. "He's just lucky."
Lucian's patience ran out. He turned his icy gaze toward Kael, his blade gleaming in the arena lights as he advanced.
Kael backed away, his hands raised as if in surrender. "I'm not even trying to fight you!" he yelped, stumbling over his own feet as he retreated.
Lucian's response was as swift as it was ruthless. His blade flashed, slicing through Kael's defenses with precision and ease. A single strike to Kael's shoulder sent him sprawling to the ground, his weapon clattering out of reach.
The crowd gasped, the sound echoing across the arena. Kael tried to get back up, but Lucian was already there, his blade at Kael's throat.
"I yield!" Kael shouted, his voice trembling.
Lucian didn't even flinch. He stepped back, sheathing his blade with practiced efficiency as Kael scrambled to his feet and hurried off the battlefield.
The crowd erupted into cheers and jeers, some impressed by Lucian's precision, others disappointed by Kael's lackluster performance.
I exhaled slowly, my focus sharpening. Lucian turned to face me, his cold eyes locking onto mine.
"So, you're next," he said, his voice calm and measured.
I smirked, raising my blade. "Looks like it."
Lucian didn't waste any time. He lunged forward, his movements calculated and precise. I met his strike with a parry, the clash of our blades sending sparks into the air.
He was fast—faster than I expected. Each strike was deliberate, every move designed to exploit a potential weakness. But I wasn't going to let him dictate the flow of this fight.
I shifted gravity around him, trying to disrupt his balance, but he adjusted effortlessly, his movements fluid and unyielding.
"Clever," he said, his tone devoid of emotion. "But you'll have to do better than that."
"Don't worry," I replied, channeling lightning through my blade. "I plan to."
The Fight Intensifies
I surged forward, my strikes coming faster now, each one infused with crackling energy. Lucian deflected them with precision, his blade moving like an extension of his will.
The crowd roared as we pushed each other to the limit, neither of us willing to back down. It was a battle of skill, of strategy—each move and counter move a testament to our training.
Lucian's calculated style was a stark contrast to my own. He fought like a machine, every movement efficient and controlled. There was no hesitation in his attacks, no wasted energy. This also Made Lucian's Attacks predictable.
I, on the other hand, fought with a blend of instinct and adaptability. Gravity and lightning were my allies, and I used them to keep him on edge.
I shifted the weight of the air around him, pulling him slightly off balance. He stumbled for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough for me to press the attack.
Lightning crackled along my blade as I brought it down in a powerful arc. Lucian sidestepped, his movements fluid, but I adjusted mid-strike, redirecting the blade toward his exposed side.
He barely managed to block, the force of the blow sending him skidding back a few feet. For the first time, I saw a flicker of frustration in his icy gaze.
"You're good," he admitted, his voice low. "But not good enough."
He lunged again, his strikes coming faster now, each one aimed at a vital point. I deflected them with difficulty, the force of his attacks driving me back.
My feet dug into the ground as I braced myself, channeling gravity to anchor my stance.
"You fight like someone with something to prove," I said, gritting my teeth as I blocked another strike.
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "And you fight like someone who's afraid to lose."
I smirked. "Afraid? Hardly. I just don't like making things easy for my opponents."
With that, I released a burst of lightning, the energy surging through my blade as I struck. Lucian deflected the attack, but the force of it sent him staggering.
I pressed the advantage, my movements faster now as I infused myself with lightning. My strikes came in quick succession, each one pushing him further back.
Turning the Tide
Lucian was on the defensive now, his precise movements becoming more frantic as he struggled to keep up.
"You're predictable," I said, my voice steady despite the exertion.
Lucian scowled, his strikes growing more aggressive. "And you're overconfident."
He feinted to the left, then lunged to the right, his blade aimed at my side. I anticipated the move, shifting gravity around him to slow his momentum.
His blade stopped inches from my ribs, after parrying and I countered with a quick slash that forced him to retreat.
The crowd was on the edge of their seats now, the tension in the arena palpable.
Lucian's breathing was heavy, his movements less fluid than before. I could see the cracks in his composure, the frustration building in his eyes.
"This ends now," he growled, his blade glowing with a faint, icy blue light.
I raised an eyebrow. "Finally showing your hand?"
He lunged again, his strikes faster and more powerful than before. I blocked and dodged, the air around us crackling with energy.
But I could feel his desperation. He was throwing everything he had into this final assault, hoping to overwhelm me.
It was time to end this.
I shifted gravity around him once more, pulling him off balance. He stumbled, his blade faltering for just a moment.
I surged forward, my blade crackling with lightning as I struck. Lucian tried to block, but my blade shattered his defenses, the force of the blow sending him sprawling to the ground.
He lay there for a moment, his chest heaving as he stared up at me.
"It's over," I said, my blade pointed at his throat.
Lucian's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. For a moment, I thought he might try to keep fighting.
But then he exhaled sharply, lowering his gaze. "I yield."
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as the announcer's voice boomed across the arena.
As Lucian walked off the field, his shoulders tense and his face hard, the arena's roars didn't subside. Instead, they shifted focus—to the two remaining threats still vying for dominance.
Draven and Rowan had kept to their corners, watching my duel with Lucian closely. But now, with Lucian out of the way, their attention turned to me—and each other.
Draven cracked his knuckles, his massive frame towering over Rowan, who stood his ground with a fiery confidence. The contrast between them was striking: brute strength against refined skill.
"You're next, little man," Draven rumbled, his voice low and threatening. "I've had enough of your dancing around."
Rowan smirked, flames licking at his fingertips. "Come try it, then. Let's see if you're as tough as you look."
They didn't wait for further encouragement. Draven charged like a bull, his massive fists swinging wildly. Rowan sidestepped, his fire magic flaring to life as he launched a torrent of flames at the larger boy.
The heat was intense, even from where I stood. The flames enveloped Draven, who let out a guttural roar as he plowed through the inferno, his sheer momentum carrying him forward.
Rowan barely managed to dodge in time, his flames dissipating as Draven's fist smashed into the ground where he'd been standing. The impact sent tremors through the arena, dust and debris flying everywhere.
I took a deep breath, assessing the situation. Draven's raw strength made him a force to be reckoned with, but his lack of finesse left him vulnerable. Rowan, on the other hand, had power and control, but he was overconfident—a flaw I could exploit.
And then there was me.
I tightened my grip on my blade, lightning crackling along its edge.