The loudspeaker crackled again—this ti deeper, louder, carrying the weight of the entire tournant.
"ATTENTION! WE ARE NOW MOVING TO THE FINAL MATCH!"
The crowd erupted, the floor trembled under stomping feet, and even Fate straightened his back like he was about to announce a world-ending prophecy.
Drear calmly adjusted the mic.
"Final point totals have been confird."
Fate jumped in—dramatic as ever.
"AND OUR TOP TWO COMPETITORS, THE ONES WITH THE MOST WINS, MOST POINTS, AND MOST PEOPLE TERRIFIED OF THEM ARE—"
A spotlight cut across the arena floor.
It landed on a tall, calm figure with silver hair and quiet, deadly confidence.
"ZENITH!!"
The cheers shook the building.
Rhys sat up straighter.
"...Yeah, that tracks."
Puddle nodded.
"Zenith strong. Scary strong. He smiles only when about to destroy soone."
"Very reassuring, Puddle."
Another spotlight appeared on the opposite side of the arena—landing on a broad-shouldered, fla-patterned spear user with a grin full of pure competitiveness.
"AND HIS OPPONENT—ARLON, THE BLAZING SPEAR!!"
Arlon twirled his spear, fire bursting at its tip.
The crowd roared even louder.
Rhys blinked.
"...Oh. That guy. The one who lted a training dummy in two seconds."
Puddle added,
"Yes. He also lted instructor’s patience."
"So basically he’s a headache with legs?"
"Fiery headache," Drear corrected.
Fate spread his arms wide like he was presenting the gods themselves.
"THE FINAL BATTLE! WINNER TAKES THE TITLE OF CHAMPION OF THE TOURNANT! NO MORE SEEDING MATCHES! NO MORE POINT GAS! JUST RAW STRENGTH!"
Arlon slamd his spear into the ground.
"Zenith! Today I’m taking your crown!"
Zenith simply tilted his head.
"...I do not have a crown."
"You KNOW what I an!"
Zenith shrugged.
"I suppose."
Rhys gulped.
"...He’s so calm it’s illegal."
Puddle whispered,
"Master, if you fight him later, pretend you are dead."
"That is TERRIBLE strategy!"
"Very safe."
The two finalists walked to the center of the arena.
Fate nearly exploded into the microphone:
"FIGHTERS READY?!"
Arlon lowered his stance, spear glowing like molten tal.
Zenith exhaled once, steady and cold.
Drear lifted the flag.
"Final match—"
The crowd leaned forward.
"—BEGIN!"
Arlon launched forward like a cot, fire exploding behind him.
Zenith didn’t move.
Rhys’s heart thudded.
This was it—the strongest of the strongest.
The final match.
The true peak of the academy’s students.
Puddle whispered,
"Master... watch carefully."
Rhys nodded.
"...Yeah. This is the level I’m aiming for."
Arlon shot across the arena like a burning arrow, flas trailing behind him. His spear roared with fire as he shouted:
"BLAZING DIVE!"
A pillar of fire burst upward as he ca down toward Zenith.
The crowd scread in excitent.
Rhys leaned forward so far that Puddle had to hold his jacket.
"...He’s aiming straight for Zenith’s head."
Puddle nodded.
"Yes. Very aggressive. Very spicy."
But Zenith finally moved.
A single step.
Calm.
Precise.
Effortless.
Arlon’s flaming strike smashed into the floor, exploding in a wave of heat.
BOOM!!
Dust flew everywhere.
Fate yelled,
"WHAT A START! IF THAT HIT LANDED, ZENITH WOULD BE A WELL-DONE STEAK!"
Drear added,
"Unlikely. Zenith would block."
The dust cleared.
Zenith stood right behind Arlon.
"...Fast," Rhys whispered.
Puddle agreed, eyes wide.
"Master needs to train legs. Very much."
Zenith raised his hand.
A soft glow gathered around his palm—calm light magic, sharp and focused.
"Light Pierce."
He thrust forward, a beam of light shooting straight at Arlon’s exposed side.
Arlon twisted his body at the last second, blocking with the spear shaft. The light blast still sent him skidding back several ters.
Arlon grinned.
"So you can attack first."
Zenith said nothing.
He just stepped forward.
Arlon slamd his foot down.
"Flare Burst!"
Flas exploded around him in a ring, forcing Zenith to jump back.
Fate scread,
"YES! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! FIRE VS LIGHT! IF THIS WERE MOVIE CGI, THE BUDGET WOULD BREAK!"
Rhys’s eyes stayed locked on Zenith’s movents.
"...His control is insane. He doesn’t waste any motion."
Arlon charged again, this ti spinning his spear, turning flas into a blazing tornado around him.
"INFERNO SPIN!"
Zenith raised one hand.
Light gathered—clean, bright.
"Radiant Guard."
A shimring barrier appeared in front of him.
Arlon slamd into the barrier with full force.
The explosion shook the arena.
When the smoke faded—
Zenith’s barrier had cracks, but not enough to break.
Arlon’s eyes sparked with excitent.
"Oh, I LIKE THIS!"
He pushed harder.
Zenith exhaled softly and answered.
"Light Pulse."
BOOM.
A burst of light exploded outward, breaking Arlon’s spinning tornado and sending him flying backward.
The crowd exploded in cheers.
Rhys’s jaw dropped.
"...He broke a full fire spin with one pulse?"
Puddle crossed her arms.
"Master cannot do that."
Rhys groaned.
"I KNOW."
Arlon landed, sliding across the floor. Then he stood again—laughing.
A wild, thrilled laugh.
"Finally! Soone who can take my full hits!"
Fire burst from his entire body, lifting his hair, glowing in his eyes.
He pointed his spear at Zenith.
"Zenith! Let’s go all out!"
Zenith nodded once.
"...Very well."
Light gathered around him like a calm storm—quiet but terrifying.
Fate jumped.
"THEY’RE RAMPING UP! I REPEAT, THEY ARE RAMPING UP! SOONE GET THE INSURANCE PAPERS READY!"
Drear added,
"The arena repair team is already crying."
Rhys swallowed hard.
This wasn’t a simple fight anymore.
It was a clash of two monsters.
Two geniuses.
Two top-tier elites.
Puddle squeezed Rhys’s hand.
"Master... next year you fight people like them."
Rhys froze.
"...Oh no."
"Yep."
The arena floor cracked under the pressure as Arlon and Zenith powered up, fire and light swirling like two storms crashing into each other.
Fate’s voice shook with excitent,
"ALRIGHT, EVERYONE HOLD ONTO YOUR CHAIRS! THESE TWO ARE ABOUT TO TURN THE ARENA INTO A COOKED MARSHMALLOW!"
Drear corrected,
"A marshmallow does not explode."
"It WILL TODAY!"
Arlon raised his spear high.
Fire burst upward, forming a giant burning spiral above him.
"VOLCANIC SPEAR—IGNITION!"
The heat washed over the arena. Even from the upper stands, Rhys felt it on his face.
Puddle squinted.
"Master, your eyebrows are shaking."
"That’s not a thing eyebrows do—wait, ARE THEY?!"
Zenith calmly lifted one hand.
Light condensed into a sharp point—no flas, no shaking, just perfect focus.
"Rayline Blade."
A thin line of light extended from his fingertips, humming like a vibrating sword.
Arlon slamd his foot and dashed forward, his whole body wrapped in fire.
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