Ardyn stood near the edge of the platform, hands clenched tight at his sides as he watched the medics lift Kael's limp form onto the stretcher. Across the arena, Dravon's team did the same with Coren—though he was still conscious, wincing as they steadied him.
A voice boomed overhead.
"Simultaneous fall. One point awarded to each team. Current tally: Windmere, two. Dravon, three."
A murmur swept through the skyfolk—some cheers, some groans.
Ardyn's pulse thrummed in his ears. He and Ava were the only ones left, and her strength might already be at its edge.
He was Windmere's last hope.
Dravon still had four.
He exhaled slowly, trying to push back the doubt rising in his chest. Across the platform, Ava sat hunched over, one arm limp in her lap.
"Ardyn," she called out, her voice strained. "I might still have one last push. I'll support you with whatever I can."
Ardyn nodded—then came a tap on his shoulder.
"Don't be scared, Ardyn," Captain Seris said. "I've seen your skill grow fast. Just focus and remember all your trainings."
"Thanks, captain," Ardyn replied, just as the signal sound blared.
He jumped. His Galegear responded instantly, wind bursting beneath his boots. From across the hollow, his opponent was already in motion.
He swallowed hard.
Massive. Broad-shouldered. Muscular.
Definitely a Windguard.
Ardyn dashed forward. As he closed the distance, he dropped low and drove a kick toward his opponent's foot.
It connected, but the Windguard didn't even budge.
Ardyn's eyes widened.
He looked up just in time and crossed his arms—bracing.
A massive hand was already swinging down.
The blow struck hard against his guard, sending him spinning through the air.
Panic flashed for a second, then Ardyn twisted mid-spin and kicked off the air, Galegear bursting to slow his fall.
Ardyn rushed forward again, but a massive hand came swinging.
He swerved aside—just in time. A counter kick followed instantly.
He twisted midair, dodging just in time.
The Windguard was massive, but alarmingly fast for his size.
Ardyn shot backward, putting distance between them, but the Windguard gave chase, surging forward with a series of heavy punches.
None landed yet, but each one came closer than the last.
Ardyn continued backing down, Galegear flaring in bursts, the Windguard still in relentless pursuit. Every time the brute closed the gap, a heavy punch came flying—Ardyn barely slipping past, dodging by inches. He weaved through the air, quick, eyes flicking back over his shoulder as he moved.
Then came the swing.
A wide, crushing punch tore through the space between them.
Ardyn reacted fast, he thrust both hands upward, catching the inside of the Windguard's arm mid-swing, and vaulted over him in a diving flip.
"Now!" Ardyn shouted.
The Windguard turned, confused.
Hovering just a few feet away from them—and the edge of Windmere's platform—was Ava. Pale and trembling, but still airborne.
Her gauntlet lit up.
A sharp beam of blue wind burst from her palm, striking the Windguard square in the chest. His body jolted, energy drained on impact. Ava's face twisted in exhaustion. With the last of her strength, she blasted herself backward, landing hard onto Windmere's platform.
The Windguard staggered, still hovering but clearly weakened.
Ardyn didn't hesitate.
He launched forward with a series of rapid strikes—kicks, punches, sweeps—all landing. The Windguard took each one, body rocking back slightly from the force, but he stayed in the air, absorbing the hits.
Then—he caught a movement to the side.
He turned—and too late.
A foot crashed into his chest.
The impact knocked the wind from his lungs and hurled him back. His body twisted midair, but he caught himself quickly, boots flaring to regain control.
He gasped, chest heaving. The blow hadn't been too strong. He could still fight.
But then he saw her—already beside the Windguard.
The Aethermender.
Wind streamed from her gear, swirling around the Windguard's body, coating him in renewed energy.
"Let's not waste time," she said flatly. "Let's finish this."
The two of them charged at once.
Ardyn braced, but they were too fast.
Punches. Kicks. One after another. He blocked what he could, parried when possible, but the pressure was suffocating. Each strike landed heavier than the last, rattling through his bones, his limbs, his chest.
The air filled with the sound of wind bursts and hits.
Then—
A final blow struck, and Ardyn's defense crumbled. He fell.
As he fell, a massive hand clamped around his neck, catching him mid-air and holding him there like a ragdoll.
The Windguard lifted him up, one arm extended, gripping his neck tight.
"You almost got me, kid," he growled, voice dark with amusement.
And then he began to squeeze.
Ardyn struggled, his vision blurred, his limbs heavy. The pressure against his throat surged, cutting off sound, breath, thought.
From Windmere's platform, cries erupted.
"Stop the match!"
"We yield!"
Just then, the Aeroliths embedded in Ardyn's Galegear began to flicker—blue at first, erratic and pulsing like a heartbeat out of rhythm.
Then the flicker sped up.
The light turned red.
A faint hum rose from the Aeroliths, low and unsteady, then it grew, louder and sharper, vibrating through the air like a warning.
Across from him, the two Dravon Cirran fighters froze. Their expressions shifted—confusion, then alarm—as they exchanged a glance.
Before either could move.
BOOM!
A blast of wind burst outward from Ardyn's body in all directions, a violent shockwave that tore through the air with a thunderclap. The Sky Arena roared as the force collided with the two Dravon fighters, slamming into them like an invisible wall.
Their bodies flung backward, spinning, twisting—like ragdolls caught in a storm.
They crashed hard into the safety net below, unconscious before they landed.
High above, Ardyn still hovered.
The Aeroliths on his gear blazed with crimson light, casting a harsh glow across his silhouette.
He hung there—weightless, suspended—just for a moment more.
A voice boomed overhead.
"Two points awarded to Windmere. Windmere wins."
Then the light faded.
His body went limp.
And Ardyn fell.