The air was electric. Thousands of fans packed the grand arena, their voices merging into an overwhelming roar of excitement. The flashing lights, waving banners, and pounding drums only fueled the already feverish atmosphere. The announcer's voice echoed through the massive stadium, hyping up the crowd even further.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are just TEN MINUTES away from the finals of the World Swordsman Tournament! Tonight, history is in the making as we witness an epic showdown between two incredible warriors! In one corner, hailing from Japan, the undefeated, the ten-time reigning champion, the modern-day sword prodigy—LUCIAN FALKEN!"
The crowd erupted, shaking the very foundation of the arena. Some fans chanted his name in unison, while others booed, eager to see the reigning king fall. The air was filled with heated debates as spectators placed their final bets.
"He's unstoppable! Ten years of dominance—no way he loses tonight!" one fan shouted.
"No way, man! Jackson is going to shake up the world! It's time for a new champion!" another countered.
"I've got five grand on Lucian! That guy's a damn legend!"
"He's getting older! Jackson's young, fast, and hungry for victory!"
As the arguments and wagers spread like wildfire, the announcer's voice boomed once more, bringing the focus back to the ring.
"And in the other corner, the rising star, the unstoppable force from the USA, a newcomer who has blazed through the tournament with unmatched skill and ferocity—JACKSON POWERS!"
Another explosion of cheers filled the arena, with a new wave of chants echoing through the stadium.
"Jackson! Jackson! Jackson!"
"He's the future! The kid is a monster with that blade!"
"Lucian's had his time! It's Jackson's turn now!"
Despite the roaring support for both competitors, there was an undercurrent of tension—nobody knew how this battle would play out. Was Jackson truly ready to take on a legend? Or was he just another challenger destined to fall?
In the quiet of his locker room, Lucian Falken sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and deliberate. The roaring crowd outside was a distant hum in his mind as he focused inward. Meditation was his ritual—his way of centering himself before battle. He had done this before every match, and tonight would be no different.
"This is just another fight," he murmured to himself. "Another opponent. Another challenger who believes they can take my throne."
Despite his composed exterior, Lucian knew this fight would be different. Jackson Powers wasn't like his past opponents. He had seen the American's fights—raw talent, relentless aggression, and a near-perfect blend of offense and defense. His meteoric rise through the tournament mirrored Lucian's own journey years ago.
"He's dangerous," Lucian admitted to himself. "Fast, strong, and unpredictable. But… he lacks experience. He hasn't tasted true defeat."
A sudden knock at the door broke his meditation. He opened his eyes, exhaling slowly.
"Come in," he said.
The door creaked open, and a tournament official stepped inside. "Lucian, it's time. Are you ready?"
Lucian stood, grabbing his sword from its resting place. He gave a small nod. "I'm always ready."
The official smiled. "Then let's go."
With silent confidence, Lucian followed the official down the dimly lit hallway toward the grand entrance. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword as he whispered his final thoughts before stepping onto the battlefield.
"This is my stage. My domain. I will not fall."
The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers once again. "And now… the moment we've all been waiting for! First, stepping onto the battlefield, the challenger, the man who has taken this tournament by storm! The rising star from the USA—JACKSON POWERS!"
The entrance doors burst open, and Jackson stepped onto the stage, his expression determined, his eyes locked onto the battlefield ahead. The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting his name, rallying behind the underdog looking to dethrone the reigning king.
"Jackson's the future!"
"Take him down, Jackson! Show no mercy!"
"He's gonna be the one to break Lucian's streak, I can feel it!"
But just as many voices were against him as they were for him.
"He's strong, but he's not ready! Lucian's going to school this kid!"
"He hasn't faced anyone like the champ. This is where reality hits him!"
Then, the lights dimmed for just a moment before the announcer spoke again.
"And now… the champion. The legend. The ten-time, undefeated swordsman of this tournament! From Japan, the one and only—LUCIAN FALKEN!"
As Lucian emerged, the stadium shook with applause, cheers, and chants. Some fans worshiped him, while others jeered, eager to see him fall. But none of it mattered. He only had eyes for one thing—the battle ahead.
"Lucian is the king! He's unbeatable!"
"Jackson's a nobody compared to him!"
"This guy's all hype! Jackson's got the fire to dethrone him!"
Jackson stood on one side of the stage, his sword resting on his shoulder, his confidence unwavering. Lucian stood on the opposite end, his grip firm, his breathing steady. Between them, the referee stepped forward.
"You both know the rules," the referee announced. "No killing strikes. Points are awarded based on precision, technique, and skill. Do you both understand?"
Lucian and Jackson nodded in unison.
"Then get ready," the referee declared, stepping back. The tension in the arena reached its peak as the two swordsmen entered their battle stances.
The announcer made one final call to the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for the fight of the decade? The champion versus the challenger! Who will take the crown tonight?!"
The crowd roared, the mix of cheers and jeers forming a deafening wave of excitement.
A pause. A breath.
The referee raised his hand, then swiftly brought it down.
"FIGHT!"
Lucian and Jackson locked eyes, the tension between them thick as steel. Jackson smirked, rolling his shoulders before speaking.
"Man, I can't believe I'm here. The finals. The big stage. And standing across from me is none other than the ten-time champion himself. You've had a good run, old man, but tonight... it's my time." His voice was laced with confidence, his stance radiating the energy of youth and ambition.
Lucian nodded, unfazed. "You're strong, no doubt about that. You've made it this far, just like I did years ago. But standing here is one thing—winning is another. The weight of a champion is heavier than you think."
Jackson scoffed. "Weight? Please. You've been carrying it for too long. You're past your prime, Lucian. I'm younger, faster, stronger. Your time is up."
Lucian chuckled, shaking his head.
Jackson's brow furrowed. "What's so funny?"
Lucian smirked. "You sound just like me ten years ago."
Jackson's smirk disappeared, replaced by a glare. "Tch, whatever. Let's see if you can still keep up!"
Without warning, Jackson dashed forward, his sword slicing through the air. Lucian effortlessly sidestepped, the blade missing by mere inches.
Jackson clicked his tongue. "You dodged that? Guess you still got some fight left in you."
Lucian's expression remained unreadable. "Reckless. Predictable. Try again."
The battle erupted in full force, swords clashing with sparks flying. Jackson launched a flurry of aggressive strikes, each one aiming to overwhelm Lucian, but the champion's movements were fluid, dodging and deflecting with near-perfect precision. The crowd roared in approval, the tension in the air reaching its peak.
"Incredible!" the announcer boomed. "Jackson Powers is coming in hot, but Lucian Falken, the legend himself, is showing us why he's the ten-time champion! Look at that footwork! That defense! The crowd is LOVING it!"
"Come on, Jackson! Take him down!"
"Lucian's got this! He's untouchable!"
Jackson gritted his teeth. "Damn it! Stop running!" He feinted left and swung hard from the right, only for Lucian to parry and drive a sharp kick into Jackson's gut.
The force sent Jackson skidding across the ground, dust flying up as he clutched his stomach, breathing heavily. His expression twisted into one of frustration.
"This isn't how it's supposed to go!" Jackson muttered to himself. "I'm the future champ! He's old news! His time is done!"
Lucian sighed, stepping forward. "Your anger is clouding your judgment. Strength isn't just about speed and power—it's about control, patience. A blade wielded in rage is nothing more than a blunt weapon."
Jackson snarled. "Shut up! You think you can lecture me?!"
He lunged again, faster, wilder. The battle resumed, but Lucian maintained the upper hand. Jackson's swings grew sluggish, his breath ragged.
The crowd was on their feet, witnessing a masterclass in swordsmanship.
"Lucian Falken is dominating!" the announcer cried. "Jackson Powers gave it his all, but he's running on fumes! Could this be the end?!"
Jackson roared, lifting his sword for a desperate final strike—but before he could bring it down, Lucian moved like a shadow. In an instant, he appeared behind Jackson, sword lowered.
Jackson's eyes widened. A second later, he collapsed onto the ground, panting. "Damn you...!"
The crowd exploded with cheers and boos as the referee raised Lucian's hand. "And there you have it! LUCIAN FALKEN REMAINS THE CHAMPION! His ELEVENTH victory in a row! THE STREAK CONTINUES!"
Lucian exhaled, looking up at the crowd. "Still standing..."
Some fans cheered, others booed. "He's a legend!" "Jackson was robbed!" "Lucian is unstoppable!"
The announcer continued. "Ladies and gentlemen, Lucian Falken's reign continues! But what a fight! Jackson Powers pushed him to the limit—"
Suddenly, a low chuckle echoed through the arena. Jackson, still on the ground, lifted his head, eyes shadowed with fury.
"No..." he muttered, shaking. "No, no, no... this was supposed to be MY moment! My victory! I was supposed to be the new champion!"
Lucian turned just as Jackson let out an unhinged laugh, grabbing his sword with trembling hands. "I won... I won!"
The crowd murmured in confusion. "What's he talking about?"
Then, in a flash, Jackson hurled his sword directly at Lucian.
Time slowed as the blade spun through the air. Lucian turned, but too late—the hilt struck him square in the temple.
A deafening silence fell over the arena.
Lucian crumpled to the ground, unmoving.
Gasps rippled through the stadium. The referee rushed forward. "Lucian?! Someone get medics!"
The announcer's voice wavered. "Ladies and gentlemen... this is unprecedented! Lucian Falken is down! He's not moving! This... this isn't right!"
Jackson threw his head back, laughing maniacally. "IT'S MY WIN! I AM THE CHAMPION! I WON! I WON!"
The crowd was in chaos. Fans screamed, some in horror, others in shock. "Is he dead?!" "That wasn't part of the match!" "Jackson lost it!"
Lucian, lying still, his vision fading, could barely hear the world around him. The once-deafening noise of the crowd dulled into a whisper. His mind, once sharp, was drifting into an abyss.
"So this is how it ends..."
His fingers twitched, but his strength was gone. His body felt cold. His breath slowed. His vision darkened. And then... nothing.