Part 2
The sound of steel clashing rang out across the Duel Arena.
By the time the group entered the coliseum, a match was already underway. At the center of the vast battlefield, two light elves exchanged blows with seamless precision, their movements so fluid and graceful it looked more like a dance than a fight.
The stands were filled with elven nobles watching with mild interest, as though it were just another part of their daily entertainment.
"Well, well… and here I thought this place would be empty," Haruto remarked, folding his arms.
"Duels are an essential part of our society," Armonio replied calmly. "There is always someone fighting in the Arena."
The group fell silent, watching as the duel reached its climax. One combatant slashed with a blade wrapped in light, striking his opponent and forcing him down to one knee.
The referee—an elf in robes of white and blue—raised his hand.
"Victory to Ser Faelith of House Sylfira!"
The audience applauded with measured enthusiasm, no great cheers, just polite acknowledgment.
"They're incredibly technical…" Simmone murmured, her eyes analyzing every detail of the match.
"That's because each of them has been trained at the military academy since childhood," Yuna added. "All elves are trained from a young age."
Haruto watched closely, a faint unease settling over him. There wasn't a single wasted movement in their fighting style. Every strike, every guard, every step carried intent.
And in that moment, he realized something:
His own fighting style was improvised.
He had always relied on quick thinking, raw skill, and the instincts forged in real battles. But watching the elves fight, he finally understood—the gap between him and someone trained was larger than he'd imagined.
Seizing the moment, Armonio stepped out onto the arena floor.
"Now that the contest is over, I would like to take this opportunity to introduce our distinguished guests."
The audience stirred, their murmurs rising.
The referee regarded Armonio with interest, though without surprise.
Haruto felt his guard rise instantly.
"I don't like where this is going…"
Armonio turned toward them, his expression cordial—but his eyes glinted with calculation.
"Since we stand here in the Duel Arena, it's the perfect chance for our guests to experience our traditions firsthand."
Yuna closed her eyes with a resigned sigh.
"He'd planned this all along…" she muttered under her breath.
Armonio extended his hand toward Haruto.
"Haruto Kibou, traveler from beyond the forest," he declared, his voice carrying through the arena. "Would you grant me the honor of a duel?"
The crowd collectively held its breath.
The referee looked to Haruto with curiosity, waiting for his answer.
Haruto felt every gaze in the coliseum lock onto him.
They had cornered him.
If he refused, he wouldn't just look like a coward—he would disgrace himself before a culture that prized duels above words.
And if he accepted…
Well, Haruto had the distinct feeling Armonio wasn't doing this as a simple gesture of welcome.
He drew in a deep breath, then smirked sideways.
"What kind of host would you be if you didn't at least give me the choice to say no?"
Armonio returned his polite smile.
"Oh, you have the choice."
For just a moment, his gaze sharpened like a blade.
"But wouldn't it be a shame if the citizens of Astralith thought a traveler from another world was too afraid to prove his worth? That would reflect poorly on Melodia as well, since you're her guests."
The crowd's murmurs swelled, growing louder.
Haruto clenched his teeth.
This guy was a damn manipulator.
He glanced at Yuna, but she only returned a calm look, as if to say—the choice is yours.
Thalindra looked eager, as though expecting a good fight.
Simmone said nothing, but her sharp eyes followed every subtle gesture.
Rina tilted her head, not fully understanding, but trusting Haruto nonetheless.
Haruto closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled.
"Fine. If you want a fight that badly… I don't mind giving you one."
The arena erupted in murmurs and applause.
The referee raised his hand, making it official.
Haruto couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just walked into a perfectly laid trap.
But there was no turning back now.
Armonio smiled confidently and raised his right hand.
"That's the spirit… Materialize! Light Saber!"
In a flash of golden light, an ornate hilt appeared in his palm. With a subtle motion, a blade of pure energy materialized, shining with a blinding brilliance.
"Activate Mode: Light Paladin!"
Shards of light floated around him, assembling into an elegant yet imposing suit of white and gold armor.
The crowd roared with cheers and ovations, thrilled to witness Armonio's arcane vestment in all its splendor.
Haruto clicked his tongue, muttering under his breath.
"Always so flashy with your outfits… in that, you're just like your sister."
Without wasting another second, he placed a hand on his belt and activated his own power.
"Materialize! Sakuragiri Katana!"
A streak of light traced the air, and in his hand appeared a sheathed katana—its hilt and scabbard etched with cherry blossoms, black lacquer gleaming in contrast.
Haruto drew in a slow breath, centering himself.
"Activate Mode: Musashi!"
The aura around him shifted. It wasn't dazzling like Armonio's, but calm and razor-sharp—like that of a warrior who lives and dies by the blade.
Armonio observed him with an analytical gaze, his smile never fading.
"I must say, I'm impressed. I never thought you'd be capable of wielding powers of darkness."
Haruto shrugged off his long crimson coat, letting it fall aside.
Armonio tilted his head with a mocking grin.
"A shame you don't have an arcane vestment."
Haruto tightened his grip on the katana, lips curling into a wry smile.
"I don't need a gaudy costume to fight."
The referee raised his hand.
"Let the duel begin!"
The match had officially started—but neither of them moved.
Haruto and Armonio locked eyes, studying each other in silence, analyzing every breath, every faint shift in stance.
The tension in the arena was suffocating, the audience holding its breath, waiting for the first strike.
"Careful, Haruto-kyun. That light saber looks dangerous…" Kizuna warned, flitting anxiously around him.
Haruto kept his eyes fixed on Armonio, but couldn't resist whispering with dry irony—
"Yes… it reminds me of that sci-fi movie in space… you know, the one with the green frog who taught the fox to lift a spaceship with his hand."
"Option!" Olivia chimed in, her usual sleepy tone unchanged. "Master, according to my data, it would be best to imbue the katana with dark magic to counter his light magic."
Haruto gave a small nod, never taking his eyes off his opponent.
"You're right. That light sword could be lethal."
A dark aura began to seep around Sakuragiri's blade, wrapping it like a shadowy mist.
But something else gnawed at him.
Armonio had activated a Paladin Mode… yet he wasn't carrying a shield.
Why?
Before he could dwell on it, Armonio raised his left hand.
"Let's start with something simple… Pentagram!"
From his palm, thin strands of light shot outward like whips, snapping through the air and racing toward Haruto with precise speed.
Haruto dodged smoothly, eyes tracking their movement. These threads weren't just for restraint—they shimmered faintly with a cutting edge.
Then, a sudden flash blinded him.
And Armonio vanished.
A chill shot down Haruto's spine.
"Damn it—!"
Before he could react, Armonio reappeared right in front of him in a blink, closing the distance at blinding speed.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Haruto barely had time to raise his scabbard in defense, guided by Musashi Mode's instincts.
But it was useless.
With one swift, precise slash, Armonio's light saber sliced the scabbard clean in two—like it was nothing but paper.
Haruto leapt back, eyes wide.
The difference in power was overwhelming.
He gritted his teeth, trying to process what had just happened.
"Damn it… he's got to be at least level 80, Rank S. That's way too much for a Rank D like me."
"Information!" Olivia interrupted urgently. "Master, don't lose focus! Musashi Mode will fail if you falter. Free your mind and remember… calm as a river."
Haruto shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
She was right.
If he let himself be shaken, the river of his serenity would overflow—and his technique would crumble.
As he exhaled, his gaze sharpened, calm and cutting.
He knew his chances of victory were slim.
But if he'd managed to defeat Hans Versalles once before… maybe, just maybe, he could find another opening here.
Kizuna fluttered around him with a mischievous grin.
"Showtime, Kizu!" the little fairy cheered.
Haruto's lips curved into a faint smile.
He knew exactly what he had to do.