Defence vs offence
The second match ended with silence.
Beast King and Horny Valkyrie were escorted away, their bodies already enveloped in healing light as they vanished into separate chambers. The Endless Abyss slowly steadied itself, the fractured stone knitting back together as if nothing violent had ever happened.
A short pause followed.
Not long enough to cool anticipation—
just enough to let emotions surface.
Meera leaned back in her seat, arms crossing slowly as she watched the arena reset itself.
Then she looked at Sam.
"Let me ask you something," she said casually.
Sam sighed without looking at her. "Here we go."
She smiled innocently. "Since when do you know… that girl?"
Sam finally turned. "Which one?"
"You know exactly which one," Meera replied. "The Valkyrie."
Sam rubbed his temple. "You've started interrogations again."
Meera waved her hand quickly. "No, no. I'm just curious."
"Curious about what?"
She hesitated for a moment, then frowned slightly.
"Have you ever thought about how strange her name is?"
Sam blinked. "Her name?"
"Yes," Meera continued. "Horny Valkyrie. That sounds… questionable. Valkyrie is a race. Horny is—well—creepy. Who names someone like that?"
Sam stared at her.
Then sighed.
"That's her title," he explained calmly. "Her real name is Titania."
Meera's brow furrowed.
"She earned the title because of her combat style and techniques. It stuck. People stopped using her real name." Sam shrugged. "She became famous under it."
Meera smirked.
"Oh?" she said slowly. "You seem to know a lot about her."
Sam frowned. "You asked."
"Yes, I did," Meera replied sweetly.
"But tell me something—who gave you permission to memorize information about other women, Mr. Sam?"
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing just slightly.
Dangerously cute.
Sam froze.
This is bad, he thought.
Her expression wasn't angry.
It was playful.
Which was worse.
He glanced away for half a second.
Why does she look cute doing this? Stop thinking that.
"Sorry, ma'am," Sam said stiffly. "My mistake. I won't retain unnecessary information again."
Meera nodded, satisfied.
"Good. Because I have a feeling you'll be getting beaten by me very soon."
Sam blinked. "What?"
Behind them, several generals struggled very hard not to laugh.
Ruhi burst out giggling first.
Meera laughed.
Sam sighed.
The tension dissolved.
Down below, the arena gates opened again.
The third match was ready.
Two figures stepped forward.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Hydron entered first.
Tall. Imposing. Fully armored.
His armor covered his body completely, layered and reinforced, designed not for agility—but endurance. In his hands rested a long spear, its shaft etched with ancient runes, a deep purple stone embedded near the blade pulsing faintly.
He looked like the embodiment of a fortress.
A knight who did not fall.
Across from him stood Yaksh.
No heavy armor.
No ornate plating.
Just a simple battle suit and a sword held loosely at his side.
But his presence was sharp.
A ring on his hand glinted under the auroras, drawing attention without effort. A dark tattoo curved along his neck—jagged, brutal, a mark earned through violence rather than ceremony.
The air thickened.
This was different.
No arrogance.
No seduction.
No spectacle.
Just intent.
Sam leaned forward slightly.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Meera glanced at him. "What is?"
"Hydron is known for his defense," Sam said. "Almost impossible to break."
"And Yaksh?"
"Pure brutality," Sam replied calmly. "Fast. Precise. No wasted movement."
He watched them take their positions.
"Best defense," he continued,
"against the sharpest offense."
The wind howled softly through the Endless Abyss.
Hydron lowered his spear.
Yaksh tightened his grip on his sword.
The bell had not rung yet—
But both warriors were already fighting in their minds.
The bell rang.
Both warriors had already taken their stances.
Hydron stood tall, his entire body encased in layered armor that shimmered faintly under the auroras of the Endless Abyss. He lifted his spear and struck its butt against the ground.
The Abyss responded.
Light gathered.
From the sigils beneath his feet, a spectral unicorn emerged—majestic, armored in light, its hooves crackling with restrained energy. Hydron mounted it in one smooth motion, posture perfect, like a knight from an ancient legend.
Across the arena, Yaksh laughed.
It wasn't loud.
It was sharp.
"This time," Yaksh said coldly, lifting his sword, "no one is coming to save you, Hydron. Not even your precious horse."
Hydron's expression didn't change.
"It seems you've already accepted defeat," he replied calmly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be talking nonsense before the fight even begins."
He lowered his spear slightly.
"Let's settle it today," Hydron continued. "Best defense… versus best offense."
From the stands, Sam nodded once.
"This," he said quietly, "is a proper warrior's battle. Both are masters of their own path."
Hydron urged the unicorn forward.
It surged ahead, hooves striking the ground like thunder as Hydron hurled his spear in a blinding arc toward Yaksh.
Yaksh raised his free hand.
Dark energy exploded outward, forming an invisible boundary. The spear slammed into it and stopped dead, trembling violently before dropping to the ground.
Yaksh lifted his sword toward the sky.
"Excrete."
From the tip of his blade, a compressed sphere of absolute darkness formed—a dense, black orb that distorted the air around it. It shot forward instantly toward Hydron.
Hydron reacted without hesitation.
He guided the unicorn aside, the black sphere tearing past them by inches. In the same motion, Hydron summoned lightning into his spear. The purple stone embedded near the blade blazed brilliantly.
He hurled it again.
This time, lightning tore through the darkness, obliterating the black sphere completely.
Hydron didn't slow.
He charged.
Yaksh slammed his sword into the ground, dragging a deep line across the stone. The moment Hydron crossed it, his spear was deflected violently to the side.
An invisible shield.
Yaksh smirked.
"If you keep attacking like that," he said, "you won't even touch me."
Then his voice hardened.
"Years have passed, Hydron. And still nothing has changed. You're weak. Just like that so-called friendship you believed in."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Dark energy engulfed Yaksh completely.
In a blink, he vanished.
Hydron barely had time to turn—
A flash of steel.
The unicorn's head fell.
The summon dissolved instantly into light, and Hydron was thrown hard against the ground.
Silence rippled through the arena.
Hydron rolled, coughing, then forced himself back to his feet. His jaw tightened as he infused his spear with absolute lightning. The embedded stone flared so brightly it hurt to look at, arcs of blue electricity spiraling wildly around him.
Both warriors charged.
The arena's colors shifted—blue lightning colliding with dark boundary force, offense and defense slamming together repeatedly. Their weapons met again and again, sparks and shadows exploding with every impact.
A massive blast sent both sliding backward.
Hydron shouted, rage breaking through his composure.
"Our friendship was never weak, Yaksh! You were the one who abandoned it—who left me behind!"
Yaksh didn't answer with words.
He attacked.
Steel clashed against lightning in a relentless exchange—clean strikes, precise blocks, no wasted movement. This wasn't chaos.
It was discipline versus brutality.
Hydron planted his spear and roared.
"Today you'll understand! I am the one who protects the Master's throne! I carry his legacy!"
Yaksh's eyes burned.
"Then become stronger than me," he replied, voice low. "And prove it."
His boundary force erupted.
Darkness poured into his sword, swallowing all light as he transferred every ounce of energy into a single point.
Across from him, Hydron did the same.
Lightning surged not only into his spear—but into his armor itself. Blue arcs wrapped around his body, crawling across metal and flesh alike.
For a moment, it looked as though the Skyfathers themselves had granted Hydron dominion over absolute lightning.
From the stands, Sage stepped forward.
"Master," he said urgently, "we should stop this. If neither of them holds back, one will die."
Sam's gaze remained fixed on the arena.
"It's too late," he replied quietly. "And neither of them will die."
The two warriors advanced.
As Hydron moved, memories surfaced—shared battles, shared silence, a bond forged in blood and broken by choices.
I won't lose you, he thought.
Their weapons collided.
The explosion erased the world.
A blinding shockwave tore through the arena, smoke and debris swallowing everything. For several long seconds, nothing could be seen.
When the dust finally settled—
Hydron lay unconscious on the ground.
Half his armor was shattered. Bone was visible beneath torn metal, his body battered beyond recognition.
Across from him, Yaksh remained standing.
Barely.
His body was burned and cut from every angle, blood dripping steadily. He leaned heavily on his sword just to remain upright.
Sam raised his hand.
"The winner of the third match," he announced,
"Yaksh."
Both warriors were transported to the healing chamber.
They lay side by side, surrounded by restorative light.
Yaksh turned his head weakly.
"Why… did you do that?" he asked. "Why did you reduce your power in time?"
Hydron smiled faintly.
"If I had," he whispered, "I would've lost a good friend."
He closed his eyes.
"You deserve this, Yaksh. I hope you win the finals."
Yaksh said nothing.
But for the first time in a very long while—
He didn't feel alone.