"Fucking finally."
Boros pushed himself off the wall, straightening his posture as he rolled his shoulders and began walking toward the ring.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't posture. But the entire crowd shifted.
Normally, candidates had to shove their way through–bumping shoulders, muttering curses, getting pushed around as they moved toward the stage.
But for Boros?
The crowd parted on instinct. No one spoke. No one dared block his path.
Hands in pockets, he walked down the open lane with a calm, almost bored stride, his eyes fixed on the ring–and on Jonas waiting inside it.
The arena seemed to grow quieter with every step he took. Boros stepped onto the stone platform, lifting his chin as he met Jonas's stare with a cold, unblinking glare.
Up at the officials' stand, Scarlet froze. "This man…" she thought, staring at Boros without realizing she was doing it. "He asked me to sabotage every single one of his exams. Make sure he NEVER gets into this guild."
Her hand tightened around her clipboard. "And yet–everything I've done has only made him stand out more."
"Stronger. Faster. Cleaner results. It's as if the harder I push him down… the higher he climbs."
She inhaled slowly, unease crawling up her spine. "We need to finish this before he gets here… hopefully he's still busy evaluating the girls."
Her pulse quickened as her fingers subconsciously grabbed her wrist.
"Because if care is not taken…" Her eyes drifted back to Boros, now standing tall inside the ring.
"This man… is going to reach Phase Three."
...….....
"Finally…" the hooded man murmured as he leaned forward, clasping his gloved hands together. His voice–low, hungry–rumbled under the roaring of the arena.
"The main event is about to start."
A wicked grin split across his face. His attendant stood beside him, posture stiff, eyes fixed on the ring below. "It's rare to see you this excited, sir."
"Well, what can I say?" the hooded man replied, flicking his gaze to the clipboard in the attendant's hand. "He's… interesting. Very interesting. We weren't here from the beginning, but from the data you're holding? He's passed every test with a perfect hundred percent."
He raised a single finger toward the ceiling. "And you know what that means, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," the attendant said. "He might reach Phase Three."
"Exactly." The hooded man chuckled, slow and dangerous. "And we haven't seen anyone reach that in… what… eight? No–ten years." He leaned forward even more, his grin widening. "Now you understand why I'm excited."
"Yes, sir," the attendant answered. But as he turned to glance at the hooded man, his breath hitched. His master's eyes weren't wandering anymore–not scanning the crowd, not wandering with thought.
They were locked.
Dead-center.
Focused on Boros in the ring with a predator's intensity… as if the fight had already begun.
"Ooh… is that so?" the hooded man whispered to himself, eyes narrowing.
"Sir?" the attendant asked.
"I want you to go," the man said, voice shifting into a low command, "and give Scarlet another message."
Then–It escaped him. A sound the attendant hadn't heard in years. A jagged, unstable, bone-deep laugh tore out of the man's throat–a maniacal laugh, echoing through the private booth like metal scraping on stone.
The attendant froze. His eyes widened. 'How long…' he thought, trembling.
'How long has it been since I heard you laugh like that, sir…?'
...…..
Inside the arena, tension rippled through the crowd as murmurs spread like a wave.
"Ain't that the white-haired monster?"
"I don't know who's winning this one…"
"It's obviously Jonas. Man was trained by Guild Scouts, for God's sake."
Since the moment both men stepped into the ring, they hadn't spoken–only glared at each other, the air between them sharp as a blade. Scarlet entered next, stepping between them.
She opened her mouth to begin the formal announcement–
She noticed movement, from the corner of her eye.
It was fast.
She turned just in time to see the hooded man's attendant sprinting directly toward her. He reached her side, leaned in, whispered something quick and urgent into her ear–
–then ran back without another word.
Scarlet blinked.
Confused.
"It's already the final match."
"Why announce that now? It doesn't make sense…" Her eyes drifted toward the dark booth in the stands, its occupants impossible to see. Something wasn't right.
But she exhaled, stepped forward, and faced the crowd. "It seems," she began, voice steady, "I had forgotten to announce this earlier. So before the match starts… let me make it clear."
She lifted the mic.
"The use of Longinus abilities… is NOT allowed in this bout!"
For one second–
absolute silence.
Then the arena erupted.
"Longinus abilities?!"
"That's unnecessary!"
"Bro, we're candidates! No one here has a Longinus ability!"
Even several executives in the upper seats sat up straighter, whispering among themselves. Scarlet never included that rule during Guild exams–because Longinus users didn't appear in the Guild exams.
So why announce it now?
"Ooh, shit…" Boros muttered, grinning as the crowd roared. "No Longinus allowed? Bullshit. I'll just use it anywa–"
Then a memory hit him.
Kinuko's voice
Quiet, pleading.
'Shiro… please hold back and listen to them. We need this. Please.'
Boros groaned, the grin fading.
"…dammit."
For the first time, the two men finally spoke. "Ooh?" Jonas said, arms crossed. His voice held a taunting curiosity. "You seem… disappointed by that announcement. Could it be you possess a Longinus ability?"
"What does it matter?" Boros growled, sliding into his stance.
"You're right," Jonas replied as he reached behind his back. Twin axes came free with a metallic clack as he dropped into his own stance.
"Though I'm curious… aren't you going to grab a weapon? Or do you underestimate me that much?"
"Ugh." Boros let out a frustrated grunt and stood upright. "I guess you're right."
He started walking toward the weapon rack without looking back. "I should go get a weapon."
As Boros walked toward the weapon board, Jonas scoffed loud enough for half the arena to hear.
"Ooh? I thought you were some kinda tough guy–trying to fight me without a weapon."
"Right... because that's not stupid at all. Not even a little." Boros said without turning. "I don't know who you are, I don't know how you fight… I'm not just gonna charge in headfirst without a weapon."
"I see…" Jonas muttered, a smirk forming.
Boros reached the board and scanned the selection for a moment–then casually grabbed one.
"Tch." Jonas clicked his tongue. "He went straight for the two-handed sword. He must be some kind of profes–"
"Okay, let's fight," Boros said as he turned around.
Jonas froze.
Boros was holding the sword… by the blade. With the hilt pointing up like a microphone.
Jonas's eyes twitched.
"THAT'S NOT HOW YOU HOLD A SWORD, DUMBASS!!!"
"Oh?" Boros blinked. "I knew it felt weird."
He flipped the sword.
"Yup, that's bet–"
"NO! Now you're holding the SHARP SIDE toward your FACE!" Jonas shouted, dragging a hand down his own face in disbelief. "What kind of dumbass–"
He stopped.
He looked back at the weapon board.
And Boros…
was gone.
A chill ran down Jonas's spine. His eyes darted.
'Where is he?'
Then–instinct kicked in. Jonas's arms shot up, axes crossing just in time.
CLANG!!!
Steel smashed into steel so hard the sound cracked through the arena.
Boros stood right in front of him – breathing hard, eyes wide, grin manic, Nexus exploding off him like a storm.
Jonas felt the weight behind that strike and his mind screamed:
'Who the hell is this demon…?!'