Kazuo's vision blurred, the world spinning, but he forced his legs to steady beneath him. His sword trembled in his grip, jacket torn and half-hanging from his shoulders. Breath burned in his chest, yet he raised his head, eyes fixed on the figure across from him.
"Aoi…" His voice was hoarse, but it carried. "You always acted calm… cool… collected. But look at you now—empty eyes, a twisted grin. Tell me… are you truly only here for the thrill of the challenge?"
The smile faltered on Aoi's lips, fading into something quieter, colder. Lightning still coursed across his body, the Arcane veil hissing against the rain of water scattered across the floor.
"You of all people should know, Kazuo."
Kazuo frowned. "What do you mean?"
Aoi's eyes narrowed, shadows flickering beneath the glow of his arcane charge. "We are the same. Neither of us fits. Neither of us belongs. We were forced into this game against our will. Rejected, even among nobles." He raised his sparking extensions, electricity dancing like wild veins across steel. "But there's one difference—you fight for those who love you. I fight for only one thing… to finally escape this hell. And for that, I need my wish granted."
Kazuo's chest rose heavy, his voice quieter, almost reflective. "Selfish, huh…" His mind drifted back to Rulthan's words. His gaze sharpened. "But that doesn't explain it… this feeling I sense from you. This… envy."
Aoi blinked, confusion flashing for the first time.
"I'm still not that good at reading aura," Kazuo admitted, wiping blood from his lip. "But yours isn't pure hostility toward me. It feels… heavier. Like envy."
"Shut up!" Aoi snapped, sparks flashing more violently as the words cut deeper than he expected. His voice trembled with anger. "You don't know anything about what I've been through! Tell me, Kazuo—have you ever killed a person?"
Kazuo's hand tightened on his sword, his throat dry.
Aoi stepped forward, the Arcane of Lightning flaring brighter, his grin twisting again, but his words came raw and jagged.
"I mastered my magic at ten. Do you know what Lightning means, Kazuo? It's destruction. I didn't get to choose how to use it. They ordered me into the special unit—said a prodigy belonged on the battlefield, not in the academy. My father rebelled against it, tried to shield me. It cost him his life."
The sparks along his weapons flared, his eyes hollow.
"By thirteen, I killed for the first time. Not monsters. Not beasts. A man. My mother couldn't handle it—she broke, and she ended her own life. And since then…" His voice thinned, twisting into a bitter grin. "…since then, the only thing I have left is this thrill. The madness you see. That's the only thing I can still feel after all the deaths I've caused."
His gaze locked on Kazuo, sharp as lightning itself. "You stand there with people who love you, who fight beside you, and you don't even see what you have. Everything I ever wanted—acceptance, a place to belong—you already have it. That's why I envy you. That's why I need my wish. Because this hell is all I've ever known, and I'm done living in it."
Aoi's body crackled again, arcs snapping from his limbs as he thrust his arms forward.
"Lightning Magic: Thunder Fang"
The bolt screamed across the arena. Kazuo swept his blade upward.
"Water Magic: Torrent!"
The wave rose, redirecting the lightning high into the air. Thunder cracked above as steam hissed around them.
But Aoi was already on him. The prodigy lunged, lightning still coursing across his body. Kazuo's only option was to slip aside, dodging each blow by inches. I can't fight him while his Arcane is still active. My magic won't hold out against that veil…
He skidded back, hand flashing a seal. "Water Magic: Water Shuriken!"
The familiar blades of water spun into form—but this time he forced them together, merging into a single, massive spinning shuriken. He hurled it forward with both hands, the projectile tearing through the air.
Aoi's grin widened. He burst straight through the whirling blade, water exploding around him as he drove his elbow into Kazuo's gut. Lightning flared on contact, electricity ripping across Kazuo's body.
Kazuo gagged, pain erupting through him, but somehow landed on his feet, legs trembling. He jammed his sword into the floor, steadying himself.
"Water Magic: Riptide Cutter!"
A needle thin beam came forth in a deadly slash of water. Aoi's eyes narrowed, his body twisting with uncanny grace. He avoided most of it—but the edge caught him. The razor current clipped the steel tips of his weapons, slicing them clean off and leaving the extensions blunt.
Kazuo saw the opening—until the lightning, carried by the wave, arced back toward him. It slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet.
Aoi's Arcane veil finally sputtered and faded, but Kazuo was already thrown across the stage, crashing against the arena wall. He managed to drag his sword up just in time, the steel catching the worst of the force before it crushed him completely.
Smoke curled from his torn jacket. He wheezed, clutching his side and threw his jacket on the ground.
Aoi exhaled, lowering his arms. His dulled extensions sparked faintly, useless now. "Your little trick with flooding the arena was only temporary. The water's gone."
Kazuo forced himself to stand, his body screaming with pain. "I never meant to use it against your Terrain Enforcement. But I had no choice."
Aoi unclasped the damaged extensions, letting them fall to the floor with a metallic clang. His smile returned—calm again, but edged with hunger.
He strode forward, steel extensions discarded, sparks faintly trailing his steps. But then he froze. A thin line of red streaked across his right shoulder. Blood dripped down his arm, shallow but stinging enough to drive him to one knee.
His eyes widened. What—? He turned his head and saw the faint, spinning fragments of water dissipating in the air. The shuriken… I underestimated it.
Across the stage, Kazuo stood too, swaying but upright, sword planted firm in the ground. Both men were heaving for breath, their chests rising and falling in jagged rhythm.
Then Kazuo lifted his blade, water spiraling at his feet.
"Arcane of Water: Vortex!"
Aoi's eyes flared wide. Again?! Impossible. He should be drained already. Just how much magic can he use?
But his own body trembled, his magic burned out. Damn it—I need a few minutes before I can cast again. The roaring spiral rushed toward him, ready to consume him whole.
And yet—Aoi was a genius. At the last instant, instead of retreating, he drove his sparking extensions into the ground, releasing a burst of lightning that repelled the rushing water. The discharge hurled his body upward like a cannon shot, vaulting him clean over the vortex's spiraling reach. The arena shook from the backlash as he soared through the air, untouched.
But then—
A presence behind him.
Kazuo.
What—?!
Before Aoi could turn, an elbow slammed in his back, driving him down. He hit the arena floor hard, stone cracking beneath the impact.
Kazuo stood over him, sweat dripping, chest heaving. "It's over." He stepped a few meters back, sword at his side. A moment of silence.
But then the air shifted.
A low hum filled the arena. Lightning flared around Aoi's body, the wind grazing Kazuo's hand before he could even react. The ground vibrated, cracks spreading in jagged veins as electricity burst through the sides of the stage.
Aoi rose slowly, eyes burning, stance airtight—unyielding, perfect. Sparks surged until the very air seemed to scream.
His voice cut through the chaos, sharp as thunder.
"Esoteric Art: …"