The roar of the crowd had only grown louder. Blood had already been spilled, pride shattered, and ambitions reignited. But as the tenth match was announced, a hush fell over the coliseum.
Match 10: Rank 8 vs Rank 7 – Kael Ravenhart vs Orin Valhast
Kael stepped onto the field like a storm given form—his dark armor faintly sparking with arcs of static, his sword humming with restrained energy. Lightning and metal surged through him like a coiled predator waiting to strike.
Across from him stood Orin Valhast, bare-chested and built like a siege engine. His fists were wrapped in flame-resistant bindings, and the air around him shimmered with the raw heat of compressed fire qi.
No speeches. No posturing. Only silence—and then, the command:
"Begin."
Orin erupted forward first—no technique, just brutal speed. He crossed the arena in three strides and launched Molten Fist—a burning punch aimed directly at Kael's sternum. Kael caught it with cross blade, sparks and flame exploding outward like a forge under pressure.
Kael spun, channeling lightning into his right blade—Iron Tempest Cleave. It met Orin's Inferno Crash, a full-bodied spinning kick wreathed in fire. The shockwave cracked stone.
They traded blows like hammer and anvil. Orin's strikes melted air; Kael's counters cracked sound.
Kael leapt back, planting his blade into the ground. Thunderclad Blitz.
He vanished in a flash of light and reappeared mid-air above Orin—lightning wrapped around him like a second skin. He came down like judgment itself.
Orin roared and countered with Flame Pillar Break, a rising burst of compressed flame that surged skyward in a column.
The two techniques collided midair—lightning shrieking, fire howling.
The blast was so violent it sent both combatants skidding backward across the battlefield.
Orin coughed smoke. His torso was scorched, and parts of his bindings had burned away—but his eyes still burned with ferocity. He charged again, fists igniting anew with Eruption Gauntlets, flames lashing like whips.
Kael didn't meet him head-on this time. He circled, ducking and weaving, drawing Orin into a pattern.
Then—he struck.
Storm Cage—a mid-tier control technique. Metal spikes emerged in a circle, channeling arcs of lightning between them, boxing Orin in.
Orin growled, unleashing Heatburst Roar, trying to melt the prison. But Kael was already in motion.
Iron Tempest Cleave — Final Arc.
He dashed in, blades spinning, the storm made blade. It was the cleanest strike of the match—across Orin's chest.
Fire exploded outward—but it sputtered.
Orin staggered.
He dropped to one knee.
Victory to Kael Ravenhart.
The crowd erupted. Kael stood breathing heavily, his armor scorched but intact. Orin looked up at him with a grunt—half pride, half regret.
The thunderstorm had prevailed.