'Who the hell is this demon?!'
Jonas's arms trembled as Boros's blade crashed against his crossed axes, the sheer weight behind it grinding metal against metal.
"You're strong," Boros said, grinning like a madman.
"I—I could say the same," Jonas shot back, teeth bared in a strained smile.
CLANG.
Boros wrenched his arm down and slammed the sword forward again. The impact blasted through Jonas's guard and sent him skidding backward, boots carving trenches into the stone as dust exploded into the air.
The crowd gasped.
Boros didn't let up. He surged forward, swinging the massive two-handed sword with one arm as if it weighed nothing.
Jonas spun his axes around his wrists and dropped low into a tight stance—
CLANG.
CLANG.
Steel collided in a storm of sparks.
Boros slashed high. Jonas caught it with one axe—
SHCKK.
—and carved across Boros's side with the other.
Boros sprang back, hand brushing the cut. "Tch. Wasn't expecting that."
"You'll get hurt badly if you keep underestimating me," Jonas taunted, rolling his shoulders.
"I don't mind getting hurt!" Boros roared, lunging in again.
"I can't believe Jonas is actually keeping up with that monster," someone in the crowd muttered.
"Yeah… what the hell were they feeding him at those Guild camps?"
Boros swung wide. Jonas slipped left and countered right in the same breath. The axe whistled past as Boros dropped, flipped into a handstand to evade the follow-up, then snapped back onto his feet—
—and charged again.
'How the hell is he swinging that sword so easily?' Jonas thought as he twisted past another brutal arc of steel.
'They're called two-handed swords for a reas—'
SLICE.
Pain flared beneath his eye. Warm blood trickled down his cheek, snapping him back to reality.
SLICE.
Another cut tore across his abdomen. Boros pressed forward relentlessly, wielding the massive blade with one-armed precision, each swing heavy enough to force Jonas back step by step.
Scarlet bit down on her finger in the stands. 'He's good…'
Boros brought the sword down again in a savage diagonal strike. Jonas caught it with one axe, locking the blade in place above his head—
—and in the same motion—
SHHCK.
His second axe carved across
Boros's chest.
Steel rang. Blood sprayed.
'Using one arm for a weapon that size is reckless,' Jonas analyzed, sliding back into stance. 'It leaves his center exposed.'
His eyes narrowed.
'But after fighting him for this long… I can tell he's skilled. Controlled. Calculating.'
A cold realization crept up his spine.
'Which means he knows that.'
Boros stepped forward again, grin stretching wider despite the blood running down his chest.
'So then…'
Jonas's grip tightened around his axes.
'Why the hell does he keep leaving those openings?'
"You fight recklessly, you know that?" Jonas said, his axe whistling through the air.
"I've been told that a couple times." Boros caught the strike with ease, steel shrieking on impact.
A grin tugged at Boros's lips. "Don't tell me you're feeling pity already, Jonas."
"Like hell I would!" Jonas roared.
Their weapons collided again, and this time neither gave ground. Axe and greatsword locked between them as they stood face to face, muscles straining, forearms trembling under the crushing force.
For a split second, the arena went silent.
Then—
Jonas twisted his hips and shoved.
Boros staggered half a step—
SLICE.
Jonas's blade tore across Boros's chest, ripping open the same wound as before.
The crowd exploded.
Boros hopped back, palm pressing against his bleeding chest. Crimson seeped between his fingers.
"Well… ain't that a surprise," he muttered dryly.
His expression flattened, eyes sharpening. "You're targeting the spots you already cut."
Blood dripped steadily down his torso, yet his breathing remained calm.
"Of course I am," Jonas replied, sliding back into stance. "Because for some reason… I know you're not going to guard those areas."
His grip tightened.
"And that works out great for me."
They closed the distance again.
Steel rang against steel—slash for slash, step for step—neither giving an inch. Each exchange came faster than the last, blades sparking in violent bursts of light.
Then—
Boros swung.
And left his chest completely open.
Jonas didn't hesitate.
BAM!
His heel drove straight into Boros's chest.
The impact thundered through the arena. Boros was launched backward, crashing onto the stone floor with a heavy slam.
He lay there.
Flat on his back.
Arms spread. Sword loose in his grip.
The arena fell into a suffocating silence.
Scarlet's hands trembled.
"Did he…?"
She almost stepped forward to call it.
And then—
Bone chilling laughter.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The sound crawled across the arena like ice down a spine.
Boros sat up slowly, one hand covering his face as his shoulders shook.
"Interesting…"
He pushed himself to his feet.
"I thought with all these soft tests and polite little matches this whole exam was gonna bore me to death."
His voice carried easily across the stunned crowd.
"But there's actually someone here who's fun."
His hand dropped from his face, revealing a grin stretched far too wide.
"As shitty as you are… you're a fun guy, Jonas."
He rolled his shoulders, standing fully upright, and lifted his massive sword — pointing it directly at him.
'I'm sorry, Kinuko…'
'But I don't know if I can hold back much longer.'
Across the ring, Jonas tightened his grip.
They stood at opposite ends now.
Watching.
Waiting.
"I thought that kick would've knocked him out for sure…" the assistant muttered, eyes fixed on the stage.
Silence answered him.
He turned to his superior—
—and swallowed.
The hooded man always smiled. Not warmly. Not cruelly. Just… unreadable.
But this smile—
This was different. It was one he had never seen in all the years he had worked with him.
Just who was this white-haired man to make his superior so excited.
He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, fingers interlocked beneath his chin. His grin stretched so wide it nearly mirrored the crescent shape of his eyes.
Unblinking.
Unmoving.
Without looking away from the ring, he murmured—
"Here it is."
Boros lowered his center of gravity and slid into stance, both hands now locking around the hilt of his greatsword.
The shift was subtle—
—but the air changed.
Jonas felt it instantly.
"He's serious now…" he muttered, rolling his shoulders as he settled into his own stance.
His fingers tightened around his axes until the leather creaked.
For a heartbeat—
Nothing moved except the wind.
Jonas vanished forward.
Steel flashed.
CLANG.
The first strike came fast — a downward cut meant to split skull from crown. Boros pivoted half a step, the greatsword rising just enough to redirect the blade past his shoulder.
Not block.
Redirect.
Jonas twisted mid-motion, dragging his axes sideways toward Boros's ribs—
—but Boros was already gone.
A flicker of cloth.
A shift of gravel.
He reappeared just inside the Jonas's reach.
Jonas reacted instantly, lunging in with a sharp horizontal slash.
Boros stepped in instead of back, knocking Jonas's attacking arm off course—
—but Jonas was already moving.
His other arm snapped around in a tight arc—
SHHK.
The blade carved just beneath Boros's eye.
Boros jerked back, boots scraping against stone as blood traced a thin line down his cheek.
"Did you forget I had two axes?" Jonas asked charging in.
"Seems I did." Boros replied grinning.
He vanished and reappeared in front of Jonas.
Too close for a full swing.
Jonas's eyes widened.
Boros's hilt struck his wrist.
CRACK.
One of his axes dipped — not dropped — but lowered just enough.
Jonas gritted his teeth and drove his shoulder forward instead, slamming into Boros's chest to create distance.
They separated.
Dust drifted between them.
"Being a little rough now are we?" Boros grinned.
"Did my shoulder hurt that bad?" Jonas replied.
He lunged again — this time faster.
A feint high—
Boros didn't move.
The blade dipped low—
Still nothing.
At the last second, Jonas reversed the arc into a rising diagonal slash.
Boros's eyes sharpened.
CLANG.
He blocked.
The force cracked the ground beneath their feet.
Jonas smirked. "There it is."
Boros's expression didn't change. "You hesitated, too bad."
Jonas froze.
In that instant—
Boros stepped forward.
Not back.
Forward.
His body slipped along the Jonas' guard like water sliding over stone.
The greatsword struck four times in one breath—
Wrist.
Ribs.
Shoulder.
Neck.
THUD.
Jonas collapsed to one knee, axes skidding across the dirt.
Boros pressed the edge at his opponent's throat.
"Shouldn't have hesitated."