Arjuna, however, didn't flinch as Rael's soul skill took shape. Instead, he conjured another arrow, holding it at the ready. But he didn't release it. Arjuna had his own code of honor—an unwavering belief that no attack should be made until the enemy had fully prepared. In a battle like this, it was unthinkable to strike without cause, not in a friendly tournament.
Rael's hand still held the scythe high above his head, summoning his soul skill into being. An artificial dark cloud loomed over him, swirling ominously as the black rain began to fall, each drop dark as ink. It hissed as it hit the platform, leaving behind a faint trace of smoke.
Rael kept walking forward, the dark rain intensifying as it fell faster. The platform beneath his feet continued to disintegrate. The scent of molten stone filled the air as the battle platform slowly turned into a muddy one. His pace was slow but purposeful, his will pressing forward with every step, dragging the ominous storm with him.
Arjuna, meanwhile, took a step back, his eyes narrowed as he calculated. The black rain drizzled heavily on the platform, but he didn't let it affect his composure. He released his arrow, but before it even reached Rael, it dissolved into nothing. It simply evaporated under the storm's influence, the arrow's energy no match for the effect of Rael's soul skill.
Rael smirked, an expression that had only a hint of amusement behind it. "And my soul skill will render any attacks, Arjuna. Once you step into my range, this battle is as good as over." His voice was calm, betraying no emotion, as though it was just another fact to state. His body was clearly under strain from holding the scythe high above his head, but he continued walking toward Arjuna, determined and unwavering.
Arjuna's brow furrowed as he backed up, careful to stay out of Rael's range. He didn't stop moving, his feet quick as he tried to maintain distance, all the while Rael advancing, making no effort to stop. Eventually, Arjuna found himself at the edge of the platform, Rael standing firmly in the center, the dark clouds swirling around him.
Rael's voice rang out again, "Another step, and you'll be in my range. Admit defeat." It was a suggestion, though it didn't sound like a request. Rael's eyes were piercing, challenging Arjuna to refuse. He would allow his opponent one last chance to step down.
Arjuna hesitated, his back pressed against the edge of the platform. The tension in the air was palpable, but after a moment, Arjuna let out a long breath. "I guess I'm left with no choice," he murmured to himself, his voice serious now. Slowly, he knelt, bringing himself down to one knee. He took aim at the sky with the Gandiva, his celestial-grade Arcana spirit, which began to glow with divine light.
Rael took another step forward, the black rain pouring relentlessly onto the battlefield, but as it hit Arjuna, something strange happened. The rain did not touch him—it curved to the side, deflected as if there was some invisible barrier surrounding the prince. Rael paused, his brow furrowing slightly. "Hmm?"
The rain continued to fall, but none of it reached Arjuna's form. Rael could feel a change in the air, a shift in the atmosphere around his opponent. Something was protecting him.
"What is going on? An inborn skill?" The smile that had lingered on Rael's face faded slightly as he took a step back, his eyes narrowing. This was no ordinary defense.
As the rain danced around Arjuna, Rael's expression grew more focused. Whatever Arjuna was preparing, Rael would have to counter it carefully. He wasn't about to let this battle slip through his fingers. Not yet.
Down on the platform, Raphael stood with his arms crossed, observing the match with an intensity that matched the stakes. His gaze was unwavering as he muttered to himself, "This… is the celestial protective state that only an Arcana spirit containing true divinity can provide during the invocation of its soul skill." He paused, recalling something. "Astralith mentioned this before. If that's the case, Azrael has no chance of winning anymore. True divinity can destroy his corrupted energy with ease and…" He trailed off, his mind racing as the energy in the air shifted.
A low rumble of thunder vibrated through the ground, filling the sky with a strange, foreboding energy. Then, without warning, a beam of pure light descended from the heavens, bathing Arjuna in its brilliance.
"Wow…"
The crowd gasped in awe as the prince stood, surrounded by divine light, the very air around him crackling with power. They couldn't help but collectively let out their exclaim.
The celestial aura lasted only a moment before it vanished, but in its wake, an arrow materialized in Arjuna's hand. Its tip glowed with an intense, blinding light, and sparks of lightning danced around it.
"Soul skill: Indrastra," Arjuna's voice rang out, calm but resolute.
The arrow, now glowing with the fury of a storm, seemed to hum with power. The wind howled around Arjuna, the earth beneath him trembling, and the atmosphere itself seemed to vibrate with the energy of the soul skill. The audience could feel the weight of its power, and the more seasoned experts rose to their feet, sensing the immense pressure.
From his vantage point, the Proctor's expression shifted from curiosity to deep concern. "It's far above the 5-star realm," he muttered under his breath. "It would kill Azrael. Should I stop this battle?" His mind raced as he weighed his options. But then, he exhaled slowly. "No. That black rain will reduce its strength before it reaches him. At most, the boy would receive a life-threatening injury. If we act swiftly, it will be resolved. No need for an interruption. Not to mention, Lord Garcia is also present in the stands. The Duke could act in a fraction of a second to save his son."
Far away from the battle platform, Eon's worry deepened. She clasped her hands together tightly, her fingers trembling as she mumbled, "C'mon, brother. Summon the Hourglass. Summon it."
As if he heard her silent plea, Rael, his hand already stretched out to summon the Hourglass, but it suddenly froze as out of nowhere, an aged voice, ancient and commanding, filled the sky like a divine decree. "Arjuna. Stop the battle."
Arjuna's expression shifted to one of disbelief as he looked up at the sky. His eyes widened, and for a moment, it seemed as if time itself had slowed. "Great Grandfather?" His voice quivered, filled with a mix of reverence and surprise.
Rael, too, turned his gaze upward, equally confused, as the entire arena seemed to hold its breath. The voice echoed once again, resonating with authority. "You were forbidden to invoke a divine astra before the finals. Yet, you broke your promise."
Rael's brow furrowed. He had no idea what was going on—who was this powerful being speaking from the heavens?
The voice continued, its tone unwavering. "Return at once."
Arjuna stood frozen for a moment, caught between the weight of his ancestor's order and his personal honor. Then, his shoulders slumped, and with a heavy heart, he lowered his bow. "I forfeit," he announced, his voice loud enough for the entire crowd to hear. His head hung in disappointment as he slowly made his way toward the exit gates, unable to meet the eyes of anyone in the stands.
Rael blinked in shock. "Uhh… what?" He hadn't expected this turn of events at all. The battle had seemed so intense, and now—just like that—it was over.
In the stands, Duke Aurelius' expression darkened as he glanced at the sky. "Bheeshma, the one gifted with immortality…" he muttered, his brow furrowed. "I heard his soul realm regressed to 8-star due to a curse, but it looks like he is at least a Supreme Being (peak-9-star), considering he can use this technique. Either that, or he is using an artifact." He shifted his gaze to Arjuna, who was walking away, shoulders drooping with regret. "More importantly," he continued, his voice growing colder as he spoke in his own head, "this boy has destroyed my plans with a sudden forfeit. While I'm proud that Rael came this far, I cannot just give away this win to him like this."
Aurelius' eyes narrowed as he gazed at his son. "Once Rael loses the finals against Raphael, I'll arrange another match between these two kids. I'll make sure they have their proper fight."