The crowd's heartbeat quickened, excitement and dread weaving together in the air. The announcer's booming voice shook the stadium with fiery enthusiasm:
— "Ladies and gentlemen! It is time for a clash no less thrilling than any duel we've seen today. Stepping into the arena now, Sir "Erik Valder", twenty-eight years old, a seasoned soldier of Eldra's border campaigns, famed for his crushing strikes and broad steel blade! And facing him— the mercenary champion "Kota", ranked A among mercenaries, last year's victor of a grand tournament in Novaria, and runner-up of this very event!"
For a breath, silence fell—then the arena erupted with cheers. The two warriors advanced, their steps echoing against the stone floor. Erik hefted his massive sword with confidence, eyes locked onto his foe. Kota circled with casual grace, a mocking smile curling his lips, prowling as if the arena were his personal playground.
The clash began with Erik's repeated strikes, each blow reverberating through the stone like thunder. His blade gleamed under the sun, hammering down with brute force meant to end the fight swiftly. But Kota twisted aside with uncanny ease, deflecting each attempt, his laughter sharp and taunting:
— "Is that all you've got?"
The audience roared in a storm of cheers and gasps. Some cried Erik's name, others screamed for Kota.
Erik pressed on, his battlefield experience on full display. His moves were tactical, his strikes measured, each swing paired with defensive footwork. Yet Kota, unnervingly relaxed despite the ferocity before him, smirked and jeered, slipping past attacks with short, sharp steps and keen anticipation.
Then came Erik's gambit. He raised his greatsword high and brought it crashing down with a ferocious overhead strike, enough to split stone. But Kota bent low in a seamless retreat, parried the force cleanly, and lashed out with a sudden counter. His blade cut across Erik's shoulder plate, leaving a visible scratch.
The crowd erupted—half in laughter, half in awe. The announcer's voice cracked with excitement:
— "Look at that! Kota answers the attack! No one saw that coming!"
Fury burned in Erik's face. His strikes grew wilder, heavier, hammering forward in relentless waves. Yet Kota's eyes narrowed in calm focus, each step deliberate, every movement sharp and efficient. He let Erik burn his strength, his smile never fading.
The stadium boiled with noise. Fans shouted, feet stomped, voices clashed in chants, while the announcer cried above it all:
— "This is no simple duel, folks! This is the gulf between men and monsters!"
At last, exhaustion began to gnaw at Erik. Sweat streamed across his face, his breath rasped, and his blows slowed just enough. Kota saw it instantly.
One clean opportunity.
Erik lunged with everything left in him. Kota's body coiled like a spring, then struck. His sword flashed, piercing through Erik's chest plate in a decisive, merciless thrust.
A stunned gasp rippled through the crowd. Erik crumpled to the ground, his greatsword skittering away.
— "Victory to Kota! The merciless beast reigns again!" the announcer bellowed.
The arena shook with applause, cheers, and disbelief. Some screamed in adoration, others in shock, but none could deny what they'd witnessed: Kota's dominance.
From the waiting corner, Gray's eyes widened. His chest tightened at the sight—half fear, half awe. Against such strength, he felt the weight of his own limits. Yet as his fists clenched, Kin's words returned to him.
— "If this is the level I must surpass… then I will become stronger still."
Kota lifted his blade high, a cold smile etched on his face, as if declaring the arena his throne. He turned toward the royal box, raising his hand in triumph.
Kin, watching from above, let a faint smile tug at his lips, even a quiet laugh escaping. Darius ground his fists in frustration, jealousy dark in his eyes. Leon leaned back, smirking in mockery, while Adrian, ever the eldest, remained silent and watchful, his gaze unreadable.
The chapter closed with the roar of the crowd still surging like waves, Gray's heart steeling itself with newfound resolve. The road ahead was steep, yet clearer than ever—his true trials were only beginning.
End of Chapter