Though only a few hundred occupied the arena, Zion's presence opposite Raiden held their attention more completely than Noelle and Beeman's fight had drawn from the thousands who'd witnessed it.
Raiden settled into his stance, eyes locked on Zion. The arena lay shrouded in darkness, lit only by pale moonlight, but this worked in his favor. With Ash's Moon Dragon essence flowing through him, the night belonged to him—his vision was sharp, his strength far greater than in daylight.
But before Raiden could act, Zion closed the distance. Confusion flickered across Raiden's face as he watched the strike arc toward his chest. The blow would have shattered ribs if it connected, but to Raiden's heightened senses, it seemed sluggish.
Raiden slipped past the strike by mere inches. Before he could register what had happened, Zion was already following up with another blow—which Raiden barely managed to evade.
