The Unyielding Blade
The arena floor trembled under the roar of the crowd. Dust and fragments of shattered stone still hung in the air from Kaen's fight, lingering like the echo of thunder after a storm. But now, all eyes shifted to the next challenger.
Riku stepped forward.
Her boots scraped against the cracked tiles, her blade strapped tightly across her back. Her face was calm, almost serene, but her eyes burned with that quiet intensity only those who had endured countless trials carried.
This is my moment. I've trained for this. I won't falter here.
From the opposite side of the arena, her opponent appeared.
He was tall and lean, wrapped in dark leather armor reinforced with steel plates. Unlike Kaen's furious opponent, this one did not radiate brute force. Instead, he moved lightly, deliberately, like a predator who had already set the trap long before his prey realized they were being hunted.
His lips curved into a sly smirk.
"So… you're the phoenix they talk about," he said, voice low, dripping with condescension. "Pretty eyes. Steady stance. But fire burns fast. And when the flame dies…" He unsheathed his blade with a sharp shhhhkt, "…all that's left is ash."
Riku narrowed her eyes but didn't respond. She slid her blade from its sheath, steel glinting under the torchlight.
The referee raised his hand, then dropped it.
"BEGIN!"
---
The clash came instantly.
His sword shot out in a blur, faster than expected. Riku met it with her own, steel shrieking against steel. Sparks burst between them, scattering into the dusty air.
But he didn't press with brute strength. No—he shifted, twisting his wrist and angling his blade with precision, forcing her weapon aside just enough to lunge for her shoulder.
Riku twisted away, but not without cost. His blade grazed her arm, leaving a shallow cut. Blood welled.
He grinned. "First blood."
Her jaw tightened. She lunged forward, slashing in a clean arc. He backstepped effortlessly, his boots skidding across the stone—only to throw a handful of sand from his belt into her eyes.
Riku flinched back, covering her face. A split second, but enough. His blade lashed out again, this time aiming for her side. She managed to twist her body, but the edge carved a red line across her ribs.
The crowd gasped.
He circled her, smirk widening. "Strength is wasted if you can't see. Every move you make, I've already read it. This fight is over."
Riku steadied her breath, blinking the grit away. Her arm burned, her ribs throbbed, but her stance didn't falter.
Inside, her thoughts raced.
He's not overpowering me. He's dismantling me. Step by step… he wants me to crumble before I even realize it.
The tactical genius advanced again, blade weaving like a snake. His strikes weren't wild—they were surgical. Each swing forced her closer to the edge of the arena, step by step, until her back nearly brushed against the stone wall.
Then came the trap.
He flicked his wrist, and a thin wire glinted in the torchlight. In one smooth motion, he cast it out, the line wrapping around a broken pillar fragment nearby. With a sharp tug, the line pulled tight, and suddenly, spikes hidden in the ground rose around her, forming a cage.
The audience erupted. "A trap?! In the arena?!"
He smirked, lowering his blade as if savoring victory.
"You see, phoenix… fire burns bright, but in a cage, it just consumes itself."
Riku clenched her jaw, her blade trembling in her hands—not from fear, but from rage. The sparks of her earlier fire flared in her chest.
No. I won't be cornered. Not here. Not now.
She raised her sword, eyes blazing. "You think this cage will hold me?"
The crowd hushed, sensing the storm in her voice.
She slid into stance, lowering her center of gravity. Her blade angled forward, trembling with the suppressed energy of her will. The opponent tilted his head, amused, confident—until the steel in her eyes made his smirk falter ever so slightly.
Then, with a roar, Riku lunged.
Steel clashed against steel, sparks bursting like lightning bolts, lighting up the confines of the trap. The sound of blades colliding echoed like thunder through the arena, deafening the crowd. Dust rose around them, clouding their forms—two silhouettes locked in a deadly dance.
Riku forced his blade back, every strike fueled by a fire deeper than muscle alone. Her cuts were clean, precise, fierce. Yet still, the tactical genius parried and deflected, slipping through openings like water flowing through cracks in stone.
"Good…" he hissed, his grin stretching. "Show me your flame. Let it burn out faster."
Their blades locked in a violent clash, sparks spraying like fireworks between their faces. Riku's teeth gritted, sweat sliding down her temple, blood soaking into her clothes.
He leaned close, his voice a whisper meant only for her.
"In the end, fire always dies."
Her voice came back in a low, seething growl.
"Then I'll rise again from the ashes."
The arena erupted in cheers, the fight far from over.
And as the dust settled, both warriors stood locked in the center of the cage—steel biting steel, willpower colliding with cunning.
The battle had only just begun.
---
The Phoenix's Resolve
The cage of spikes still glimmered around them, sharp steel edges reflecting the torchlight. The tactical genius pushed against her blade with cold precision, his smirk carved deep into his face.
"You're strong, phoenix," he muttered, voice steady even in the chaos of sparks. "But strength is wasted if it's not sharpened. You're still raw iron. Unrefined."
His words cut deeper than his blade. He twisted, breaking the lock, and his sword lashed out again—so fast that the crowd could barely see. Riku barely blocked, the impact rattling her arms. The vibration stung her palms, forcing her grip to tremble.
The crowd whispered, "She's breaking… she can't last…"
But inside the storm of strikes, Riku's mind drifted—back, back to a different fire.
---
A memory.
She was a child again, sitting near the small hearth of her home. Her mother's hands guided hers on a wooden practice sword. Her father watched from the side, arms crossed, with a proud smile hidden under his beard.
"Hold it steady, Riku," her mother said softly. "A sword isn't just for strength. It's for protecting. If your hands tremble, it's not because you're weak—it's because you're holding someone's life."
Her father chuckled. "And don't forget—your fire burns brightest when you fight for someone you love."
She had laughed then, the warmth of the hearth wrapping her like a blanket. She remembered her brother clapping, cheering for her clumsy swings. Her small world filled with love, laughter, and the glow of firelight.
But the warmth didn't last.
The memory twisted. Screams. Smoke. The earth shaking as monstrous shadows descended. A flash of claws. The smell of blood. The fire of home replaced by the fire of destruction.
Her family torn away.
Her laughter replaced by silence.
Her world reduced to ashes.
And there she was, standing in the ruins, sword clutched in trembling hands. Alone.
---
"Riku!!"
The roar of the crowd dragged her back to the present.
The tactical genius had forced her to her knees. His sword hovered inches from her throat, his grin triumphant.
"It ends now. Burn out quietly."
The crowd gasped. Some shouted her name. Others whispered her defeat.
But Riku's eyes… they no longer wavered.
Her lips curved into a small, defiant smile.
"No… my fire isn't for you to snuff out."
She shifted her weight suddenly, her blade snapping upward with a burst of raw strength. Sparks erupted as she deflected his killing strike, the sound like a thunderclap. She rolled to her feet, blood dripping down her side, but her eyes shone with new light—fierce, unyielding.
The tactical genius faltered for the first time. "What…?"
Riku lifted her sword high, its edge gleaming in the firelight. Her voice cut through the arena like a blade:
"You think traps and tricks can break me? I've lived in the ashes of loss. I've fought against shadows bigger than you. And every time… I've risen again."
Her words carried the weight of her scars. The crowd fell silent, their hearts caught in her fire.
The tactical genius snarled, his smirk breaking into a sneer. "Then burn brighter, phoenix—so I can snuff you out myself!"
He lunged. His blade danced like lightning, striking from impossible angles, weaving in precise patterns meant to dismantle her defense. Each swing was a trap, a calculation, a death sentence.
But this time, Riku moved differently.
She wasn't chasing his rhythm—she was feeling it. Her blade flowed like fire through wind, bending, swaying, deflecting. Each clash was sharper, more precise. Sparks scattered like embers with every strike, painting the arena in flickering light.
The crowd roared as she began to hold her ground, step by step.
Her inner monologue surged with every block, every deflection:
This isn't just my fight. It's for them. For the warmth I lost. For the laughter I'll protect in the future. My fire doesn't end here.
The tactical genius grit his teeth, frustration creeping in. "Impossible… you shouldn't be able to read me!"
Riku's voice rang out, calm yet burning.
"I don't need to read you. I just need to burn hotter than your tricks can contain."
Their blades clashed again, and for the first time, the force pushed him back. His boots scraped against the stone, his smirk gone, replaced by a flicker of disbelief.
The cage of spikes seemed to vanish in the light of her determination. The crowd erupted in cheers, chanting her name:
"RIKU! RIKU! RIKU!"
The phoenix had found her wings again.
And as the dust swirled around them, the fight entered a new stage—where fire no longer feared the cage, and the hunter realized his prey still had fangs.
---
The Tactical Storm
The smoke curled thick around the arena, swallowing torches, swallowing sight. The crowd leaned forward, holding their breath. All they saw were sparks flickering within the haze, like lightning trapped in a storm cloud.
Inside, death moved.
Riku's opponent vanished between the veils of smoke. His steps were silent, his blade swift, his presence like a phantom stalking prey. From every side he struck—slashes darting in and out like a serpent's tongue.
Steel screeched. Riku blocked, barely. Sparks burned against her cheek, her arms trembling from the force. A second strike cut across her thigh. A third nearly grazed her throat before she twisted away.
His laughter echoed all around her.
"Lost already? I told you—your fire burns out in smoke!"
The words were a dagger meant to pierce her heart.
Blood ran down her arm, dripping from her blade. Her chest heaved. Her eyes narrowed.
No. I can't lose here. I won't.
She closed her eyes for an instant, shutting out the chaos. In the silence of her mind, she felt it—the faint crunch of his boots against the stone, the subtle shift of air displaced by his blade, the pulse of killing intent brushing her skin.
Her eyes snapped open.
There you are.
---
The smoke rippled. A silhouette lunged.
Steel hissed toward her neck.
Riku pivoted. Her blade arced—not where he was, but where he would be.
CLANG!
Her strike met his head-on, sparks exploding between them. His eyes widened behind the smoke. She had read him.
Before he could retreat, Riku pressed. Her blade blurred, cutting through the haze like fire chasing oxygen. Slash, step, slash—each movement sharper, faster. The rhythm had shifted.
The predator was being hunted.
The smoke tore apart as their blades clashed violently, the force shaking the arena floor. The crowd roared, finally seeing the duel resume in full.
---
Snarling, her opponent retreated a step, his composure cracking. He ripped two hooked chains from his belt, hurling them forward. The chains whistled through the air, spiraling toward her blade like coiling serpents.
CLANG—CLINK!
The hooks locked around her sword, dragging it sideways. Riku staggered, pulled off balance.
"Got you," he hissed, lunging in for her throat.
The crowd gasped.
But instead of resisting, Riku moved with the pull. She twisted, spinning with the chain's momentum, her free hand grabbing the link. With a furious yank, she dragged him forward.
His eyes widened.
Her blade snapped free of the chains and came crashing down against his strike.
The collision was like a thunderclap. A shockwave blew the smoke away, torches flickered violently, and the two fighters stood revealed in the arena's heart—locked in a storm of steel.
---
Their swords screeched against each other, sparks spraying like meteors.
Riku's eyes blazed.
"No trap… no trick… will cage me!"
His grin faltered into a scowl. "You stubborn flame…"
With a sudden roar, he stomped the ground. Plates hidden beneath his boots clicked—mechanisms springing to life.
Whirr—whirrr—
From the edges of the arena floor, metal spikes shot upward, forming jagged pillars. Chains snaked out from the walls, snapping like whips. The battlefield itself bent to his will.
The crowd screamed in awe.
"He's controlling the arena!"
The tactical genius slashed, kicking Riku back toward one of the rising spikes. She barely rolled aside before it impaled the stone where she had stood. Another chain whipped past her, tearing a shallow cut across her cheek.
Her opponent advanced, weaving between the traps as if he'd rehearsed this a thousand times. His movements were perfect, inhumanly efficient.
"This is my stage," he growled. "And in my stage—you burn out!"
---
But Riku didn't falter. She spun, her blade carving through an incoming chain, sparks bursting as metal split. Another spike lunged up, but she leapt, twisting in midair, her hair blazing like fire in torchlight.
Her blade came down in a fiery arc.
CLANG!
He blocked, but the sheer force pushed him back, cracking the stone beneath his boots.
The crowd erupted.
"Did you see that leap?!"
"She cut through his trap!"
"She's forcing him back!"
---
Her opponent's teeth clenched. For the first time, his perfect rhythm broke. He threw his final trump card—a flurry of glowing daggers from his belt, each one sparking with explosive runes. They spun through the air, surrounding her in a deadly circle.
"Let's see your flame against this!"
The daggers erupted—fire and lightning exploding all around her, swallowing her in a cyclone of destruction.
The crowd shielded their eyes. Some screamed. Smoke and fire engulfed the center of the arena.
Her opponent exhaled, lowering his blade. "It's over."
The smoke began to clear.
And then—
CLANG!
A single strike split the haze.
Riku emerged, her body scorched, bloodied, but unbroken. Her blade burned with reflected fire, her eyes sharp as ever.
Her voice rang out, fierce and defiant:
"You'll have to do better than that to kill me!"
The arena shook with cheers.
Her opponent staggered a step back, disbelief etching across his face. His flawless tactics had been shattered.
And Riku—her flame had only grown stronger.