Drear pointed at the screen. "That’s the first solid hit Rhys has gotten in a while."
Maxwell shook off the pain and glared. "Fine. Then take this!"
He swung his sword in a wide arc, sending a wave of fire racing toward Rhys.
Rhys countered imdiately. His Ruinous Darkness Blade pulsed once, and he slashed downward with Water Blade. The two attacks collided, exploding in midair and pushing both fighters back a step.
"They’re countering everything now," Fate said. "It’s almost even."
Maxwell’s breathing grew heavier. His lightning flickered around his arms.
Rhys was sweating too, gripping his dark blade tight as its unstable energy rippled up the edge.
The arena felt tense.
Maxwell raised his sword again. "Rhys! One more round!"
Rhys lifted his blade. "Let’s finish it!"
They dashed forward at the sa ti—
fire and lightning surging on Maxwell’s side,
wind and darkness swirling around Rhys.
They swung at the sa mont—
—and another huge shockwave blasted across the arena as their blades collided again.
The ground cracked under their feet.
Maxwell struck first after the clash, swinging down with a heavy fire-coated slash. Rhys blocked, but the force shoved him back several steps.
"He’s slowing," Fate said. "Rhys can’t take too many more direct hits like that."
But Rhys didn’t step back for long.
He pushed in again, using Swift Cut to try to hit Maxwell before he could recover. Maxwell dodged to the side, lightning sparking under his boots.
"Maxwell’s movent is getting ssy," Drear observed. "His lightning is fading. He’s running low."
Rhys wasn’t fresh either.
His mana flickered around him, and even the Ruinous Darkness Blade vibrated from the strain he was putting into every strike.
Maxwell charged with another lightning dash, but it wasn’t as sharp as before. Rhys reacted quickly and hit him with a low wind-assisted slash to the leg.
Maxwell stumbled.
"That’s a clean hit!" Fate shouted. "Maxwell’s speed is dropping fast!"
Maxwell growled and swung upward with a burst of fire. Rhys blocked again, sliding back but keeping his stance.
The crowd roared as both fighters steadied themselves.
Maxwell pointed his sword forward. "Co on, Rhys... let’s end it!"
Rhys raised his blade. "Yeah. Let’s finish this."
"They’re both at their limit," Fate said. "The next exchange might decide everything."
Maxwell stepped forward first. His lightning flared, weak but still enough to give a small burst of speed.
Rhys t him halfway.
Their swords clashed—hard. Neither could push the other back.
"They’re completely even," Fate said. "This is pure willpower now."
Maxwell suddenly pulled back and tried to hit Rhys with a fast fire jab.
Rhys ducked under it and swung upward with a wind-assisted strike. Maxwell blocked, but the impact forced him to bend his knees.
"He’s losing strength," Drear said. "That block wasn’t solid."
Maxwell tried to dash away, but the lightning around his boots fizzled out midway.
He stumbled.
Rhys saw it instantly.
He rushed forward and slashed with Water Blade straight at Maxwell’s side.
Maxwell barely blocked, but the water splash knocked him off balance.
"That’s another hit for Rhys!" Fate shouted. "Maxwell can’t keep up!"
Maxwell roared and unleashed one last burst of fire around himself, trying to force Rhys back—but Rhys didn’t stop.
He stepped in and struck with Swift Cut.
Maxwell blocked, but his grip slipped.
He staggered.
"He’s wide open!" Fate yelled. "This is it!"
Rhys raised his Ruinous Darkness Blade, and all his remaining mana surged into it. The edge glowed with dark, twisted energy mixed with wind and fire.
Maxwell steadied himself, panting. His flas dimd. His lightning vanished.
He still lifted his sword.
"Co on, Rhys..." he whispered. "Give your best shot."
Rhys sprinted toward him for the final exchange—just him, his blade, and everything he had left.
Rhys closed the distance fast.
Maxwell braced himself, feet shaking, sword trembling in his hands. He looked tired—more tired than ever before—but he still lifted his weapon, refusing to back down.
Rhys swung first.
His Ruinous Darkness Blade ca down in a heavy arc, dark energy swirling around it. Maxwell gritted his teeth and blocked with both hands, the impact sending a loud crack through the arena floor.
Maxwell slid back several ters.
He tried to push forward again, but his legs were shaking too much. His fire flickered out. His lightning was gone completely.
Rhys didn’t give him ti to recover.
He dashed in with everything he had left and slashed again—faster, harder, more desperate. Maxwell parried the first hit, blocked the second, but the third one slipped through and cut across his shoulder.
Maxwell stumbled sideways.
"That’s it!" Fate shouted. "Rhys has the montum!"
Maxwell tried to swing back, but the attack was slow. Rhys dodged easily and countered with a clean vertical strike. Maxwell barely raised his sword in ti, and the two blades clashed again—this ti, Maxwell’s grip almost gave out.
Rhys pressed forward with a final burst of strength.
He spun and delivered one last, decisive slash across Maxwell’s chest—not deep enough to seriously injure him, but strong enough to break his stance completely.
Maxwell dropped to one knee.
His sword slipped from his hand.
The arena went silent for a mont before the referee shouted, "Match over! Rhys wins!"
Maxwell let out a long breath, exhausted but smiling a little. "Damn... you really got ."
Rhys lowered his blade, breathing heavily. "Good fight."
Both of them stood there, tired, drained, but proud—because they had given everything they had.
As the announcent echoed through the arena, the big screen switched to the updated rankings.
Fate practically scread, "WE MADE IT INTO THE TOP FIVE!"
Drear leaned forward, eyes wide. "Rhys... you actually did it."
The scoreboards flashed:
Rank 1 – Rhys
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Rhys blinked, still catching his breath. "Top five...?"
Maxwell laughed tiredly as the dics approached him. "Yeah, man. You earned it. That final hit was crazy."
Rhys didn’t smile much, but he exhaled with a small, relieved grin. He tightened his grip on his sword, then relaxed it.
Fate popped up beside him, shaking him by the shoulders. "Rhys!! TOP FIVE!! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT THAT ANS?!"
Rhys shrugged, still trying to breathe. "It ans... I need to train even more."
Drear snorted. "Only you would think that after winning a match like this."
The crowd kept chanting his na, louder every second.
"Rhys! Rhys! Rhys!"
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