Lightning surged around his legs, sparking violently.
"I’ll make sure you can’t even see move," Kyrion said, voice low and charged.
He vanished again.
The arena trembled as streaks of lightning zigzagged across the floor. The audience couldn’t follow a thing—just flashes, impacts, and echoes of clashing tal.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Nolan t every strike head-on, their swords sparking as they collided again and again. Kyrion’s movents blurred with speed, each swing heavier than the last.
He’s using everything, Nolan thought, blocking a downward slash and pushing back with his full strength.
Kyrion grinned wildly, his aura surging. That’s right. Everything I’ve got.
Nolan twisted his wrist, parrying the next strike, and in one swift motion, drove his blade into Kyrion’s shoulder.
Blood splattered across the ground—then stopped.
Kyrion staggered back, clutching the wound... but within seconds, it began to close. Flesh sealed. Blood vanished. The Life Consu technique activated again—stronger than before.
He had already taken four lives the night before.
Now, its power worked faster than ever.
Nolan tightened his grip on his sword, his eyes sharp.
"So that’s how it is," he muttered, smiling faintly.
Kyrion raised his head, lightning still crackling around him.
Kyrion looked at Nolan, his eyes filled with determination.
I have to end this. My speed—he won’t be able to dodge it, no matter how fast he is. I’ll go for his head.
A sharp grin crossed his face.
In a flash, Kyrion vanished.
The audience didn’t even see him move before he appeared behind Nolan, his sword slicing toward Nolan’s neck.
But Nolan didn’t flinch.
Just before his strike landed, Kyrion froze—his vision blurred.
He saw it.
His own head falling.
He gasped, leaping backward in shock.
What was that?! My head—it really fell off! No... it can’t be real. Was that an illusion?
He clenched his sword, breathing heavily.
Even after using the forbidden spell that increased my mana and strength... I’m still struggling? How is this happening?
Then Nolan started walking toward him.
"Hey," Nolan said with a faint smile. "You’re thinking out loud again. I can hear your fear."
Before Kyrion could react, Nolan disappeared—then reappeared behind him.
Kyrion spun around to slash, but Nolan was gone.
A light tap touched his shoulder.
He turned—and Nolan’s knee slamd into his face.
Kyrion flew back, blood spraying. He wiped it off and charged again, swinging his sword with full force.
Nolan didn’t even draw his blade. He lifted his hand, blocking the sword barehanded.
"What the—how didn’t that cut you?! My sword can slice through steel!" Kyrion shouted.
Nolan’s tone was calm, almost pitying.
"The match just started, and you’re already trembling. I thought you’d be a real challenge."
He kicked Kyrion across the face. Blood splattered, a tooth cracked—then reford instantly.
"I won’t give up!" Kyrion growled. "You said I wouldn’t be able to heal again, but look—I just did!"
Nolan’s eyes narrowed. He raised his left hand and stabbed it into Kyrion’s stomach.
Kyrion staggered back, clutching the wound—then realized sothing was wrong.
The wound wasn’t closing. The blood didn’t move.
"What... what’s happening?" he whispered, wide-eyed.
Nolan slowly raised two fingers and snapped. A faint glow rippled across Kyrion’s body.
"I didn’t stop ti," Nolan said quietly. "I just reset your body—to the mont before you used that forbidden spell."
Kyrion’s eyes widened in horror as his aura vanished completely. His body felt weaker, heavier. The healing stopped.
"You depended too much on that spell," Nolan said. "Now... fight as yourself."
Kyrion looked up at Nolan slowly, trembling with anger and confusion.
"What... what did you just do?!" he shouted. "What did you just do, you bastard?! Tell ! What did you do to ?! Huh?! You’re gonna pay for this!"
Nolan folded his arms calmly. "From now on, you won’t be able to use that spell," he said coldly. "Maybe you’ll try to recast it—but I’ll tell you this: in this arena, that deadly spell of yours won’t work. Even if you force it, I can break your body beyond repair. You know why?"
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing.
"Because I know everything about that spell. You’ve been killing people to fuel it. Life Consur, isn’t that right?"
Kyrion froze, eyes wide.
"H-how do you know that?" he stamred, then shook his head violently. "No... no, you don’t know what you’re talking about! You don’t know anything!"
Nolan smirked slightly. "I didn’t confront you when I found out," he said, his voice cold and calm. "I waited until now. I wanted to face you here—so everyone could see the truth. We are not friends, Kyrion. We never were. There’s a massive gap between us. Even if you defeat right now, you’re still weak to ."
Kyrion’s rage exploded. His eyes burned red as he raised his sword high.
"Shut up, you bastard!" he scread, swinging with all his strength.
Nolan moved with blinding speed, stepping aside effortlessly. Kyrion stumbled forward—then Nolan’s hand flashed.
SLAP!
The sound echoed through the arena as four of Kyrion’s teeth flew from his mouth. He was sent crashing into the arena wall, his body sliding down with a deep groan.
The crowd gasped. Dust rose around him.
Kyrion coughed, clutching his jaw, blood dripping down his chin. "This... this pain..." he muttered. "I killed people just to use that spell... four of them last night... and he—he made it useless. What’s happening to ?!"
He slamd his hand against the floor, his voice cracking with fury.
"WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"
His roar echoed through the arena—part rage, part despair.
Kyrion looked up at Nolan, his eyes burning with fury.
"You bastard! You bastard!" he scread.
He sprinted toward Nolan again, his sword glowing faintly with dark mana as he swung it down with all his strength.
Nolan didn’t even flinch. He caught the blade mid-swing with one hand, twisted it out of Kyrion’s grip, and snatched it clean from him.
"What—?!" Kyrion gasped.
Before he could move, Nolan raised his finger and flicked him on the forehead.
BAM!
Kyrion’s body was launched backward like a rag doll. He crashed into the arena wall, the impact shaking the ground. He scread in agony, clutching his head. "Aaaaahhh! The pain—it’s not stopping!"
Staggering to his feet, he looked toward the emissary’s stand, shouting hoarsely, "You all! This man is cheating! He’s cheating! I can’t use my power! I can’t use my power!"
The crowd erupted into noise—confused, shouting, unable to hear his words clearly.
"What’s he saying?" soone in the stands asked.
"I can’t hear him over the cheering!" another yelled.
Kyrion kept screaming, "I can’t use my power!" again and again, but his voice was drowned out by the roars of the crowd.
The emissary turned to the king and the officials. "What is he saying?!" he asked, but no one could make sense of it.
anwhile, Nolan stood calmly in the center of the arena, his sword at his side, eyes cold and steady.
The emissary finally raised the amplifier to his mouth. "Wow... what a fight! I didn’t expect this. We all knew Nolan was strong—but this strong? Kyrion, one of the fastest and most powerful contestants, hasn’t even managed to scratch him!"
The crowd gasped and then roared louder.
"It looks like Nolan might actually have a chance to defeat Luthor himself," the emissary added. "It might be possible... who knows?"
Kyrion gritted his teeth, trembling with rage and humiliation. His eyes twitched as his aura began to flare wildly. He was no longer calm—he was on the verge of losing control.
"Wow... I didn’t actually expect this outco," Alaric said, leaning back with a half-smile as the dust settled over the arena. "Nolan is truly strong. Didn’t I tell you?"
"Yeah," Dalvin replied, eyes still locked on the battlefield. "He’s... different. Maybe a bit too strong. We don’t even know his limits. It’s like, all this ti, he’s been holding back. But this fight..." He shook his head slowly. "He didn’t even give Kyrion a single chance."
Alaric chuckled. "That’s exactly why I stayed. I was supposed to head back to my village with my party, but I couldn’t. I wanted to see this match through—and honestly, I think he’s the one who’ll defeat Luthar."
Dalvin turned sharply toward him. "Are you serious? You’re joking, right? Luthar is the Empire’s hero—the current champion. There’s no way Nolan can stand a chance. Even if we don’t know his full strength, Luthar is on another level."
"Well, you’re not wrong," Alaric said, resting his elbow on his knee. "But... I don’t think this guy’s going to lose either. There’s sothing about him. He’s getting stronger—far stronger than the last ti we saw him fight in this arena."
"Yeah, I wouldn’t doubt that either," Alaric said with a small nod. "He’s strong. I’ll have to admit—truly strong. But tell sothing..." He leaned forward slightly, a teasing smirk forming. "You’re the Empire’s hero, right? If you fought him... do you think you’d win?"
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