Crimson energy surged from Keave in wild torrents, lashing around him like flames devouring the air. An unnatural shadow began weaving through the red glow. Millie shifted her gaze to Rukmini—deep blue light rolled off his body in relentless ocean waves. Stabilizing that sheer volume of power in mere seconds was beyond belief.
Rukmini's feet rose to match, hovering in perfect defiance. Red and blue clashed violently, fusing into a violent violet blaze that lit the entire arena. In an instant, Rukmini surged forward at storm-speed, forcing Keave toward the black edge of the battlefield.
Their eyes burned with opposing fire: Keave's blazed like twin infernos, raw and consuming; Rukmini's held the cold stillness of frost buried deep beneath ice.
Keave poured every ounce of strength into resistance—muscles corded, forehead mark flaring brighter—but Rukmini gave only the slightest ground. Their hands remained locked in mid-air, bodies trembling against the opposing force.
Then Rukmini accelerated. He dragged Keave right to the brink of the void. Keave's eyes flared wider; he snapped a brutal kick into Rukmini's midsection. Rukmini countered instantly—his foot slammed into Keave's abdomen with shattering force.
The blow only fed Keave's rage. His forehead mark exploded with light; red radiance surged, briefly overwhelming the blue. The crowd stayed deathly silent, awe and terror sealing every mouth.
Suddenly, spinning orbs of searing light erupted around Keave. The next heartbeat, Rukmini was hurled toward the far edge. Refusing defeat, he threw his full power against the tide—Keave slid backward even as he pressed forward, trapped in the paradox of his own momentum.
The blue deepened like an abyssal current, swallowing the red glow inch by relentless inch. The arena shuddered with every pulse of their colliding energies. Blood and sweat drenched Keave's face; icy calm never wavered on Rukmini's. Every eye in the stands was locked on them. Every heartbeat hammered in frantic unison.
Keave's mind had finally snapped.
He wrenched at his trapped hands, desperate to break free from Rukmini's iron grip, but the more he pushed forward, the tighter Rukmini held—refusing to let go even an inch. Twisting his neck violently, Keave snapped both legs upward in a brutal double kick aimed at Rukmini's torso.
This time, Rukmini wasn't caught off-guard. He met the attack head-on, slamming both his own feet into Keave's midsection with crushing precision. The impact drove the air from Keave's lungs in a wet, ragged gasp. Crimson blood erupted from his mouth, splattering across his clothes in dark, glistening streaks.
The sharp, metallic scent of blood flooded Rukmini's nostrils. Seizing the opening, he began shoving Keave backward with renewed force.
But then—Keave looked straight into Rukmini's eyes.
The gaze wasn't human anymore. It belonged to something feral, something that had long since crossed into slaughter. Rukmini braced for the strike he knew was coming.
Before Rukmini could fully react, Keave's fingers subtly shifted—sliding between Rukmini's own in a deceptive, almost gentle lock. In the next heartbeat, Keave yanked Rukmini closer, pulling him in tight.
Rukmini tried to retreat, but Keave was faster. His legs snapped around Rukmini's waist like a vice, locking their bodies together in mid-air.
Now they were impossibly close—chests heaving against each other, faces inches apart. Keave's blood-smeared lips curled into a grotesque, dripping grin. With a savage laugh, he slammed his forehead forward like a battering ram, crashing it into Rukmini's skull.
Once. A pause—long enough for the pain to bloom. Then again. And again.
Rukmini thrashed, trying to break free, but each headbutt landed heavier than the last, rattling his vision, splitting skin. Blood streamed from Rukmini's nose in thick rivulets, bubbling like foam; more poured from a gash across his forehead. His grip finally faltered—Keave's hands slipped free.
Keave's nose was a ruined mess, blood pouring steadily down his chin and throat. Rukmini's face was no better: nose shattered, forehead split open, crimson rivers running into his eyes. Yet even through the haze of pain, that unnatural calm still lingered in Rukmini's gaze—now edged with something colder, something sharper.
The arena lights caught the blood mist hanging between them, turning it into a faint red haze.
Neither moved for a heartbeat.
Then the deadlock shattered.
Keave hovered in mid-air, facing Rukmini directly opposite him, and flashed a manic, blood-streaked grin. He wiped the steady drip of blood from his nose with his index finger, flicking it away carelessly. His head throbbed from the repeated headbutts, vision swimming slightly, but he refused to let even a flicker of pain show on his face. Across from him, Rukmini's head hung just a fraction lower—his skull pounded like it had been split open with a hammer. The world around them spun in slow, nauseating circles, yet his expression remained eerily blank, stripped of any trace of agony.
Both their radiant auras had dimmed, the violent violet clash fading to a low, pulsing glow. Keave was already coiled for the next strike when something registered—sharp, stinging pain blooming across both cheeks.
Rukmini had struck without warning, without a trace of energy. Two brutal, open-palmed slaps cracked across Keave's face from either side, hard enough to make his head snap sideways. Keave staggered mid-air, trying to recover, but the blows kept coming—rapid, precise punches raining down on both sides of his head. Their energies had weakened so much that the impacts were purely physical now, bone on bone.
Through the ringing haze of pain and spinning vision, a cold, quiet voice cut straight into Keave's ears:
"I have no fondness for pretending to be tough."
The entire arena had lost its collective mind watching these two incomprehensible, monstrous beings tear into each other. Millie's eyes were glued to them, her mind strangely calm—almost meditative in the face of such raw violence. Tessa couldn't even look; she had buried her face in her hands. Neon, on the other hand, watched with wide, gleaming eyes and the faintest smirk tugging at her lips, utterly captivated.
Keave heard the words and exploded into wild, barking laughter. He retaliated instantly, throwing punches of his own—both of them now trading blows in a savage, airborne fistfight, fists blurring in the dimming light.
Then Keave seized the opening. He grabbed Rukmini's elbow in a vise grip and hurled him violently toward the boundary edge. Laughing maniacally, Keave surged forward, ready to slam Rukmini the rest of the way into the void.
But Rukmini's eyes snapped open—clear, cold, focused.
In a heartbeat he rocketed upward, cutting through the air. Keave twisted to pursue, lunging to finish him—only for Rukmini to exploit the momentum. Reversing direction mid-flight, he traced a wide radial arc, slamming a devastating elbow into Keave's ribs as he passed. The impact folded Keave sideways; Rukmini didn't stop. He drove forward relentlessly, punching and elbowing without pause, forcing Keave downward in a brutal spiral.
Keave thrashed, trying to counter, but he had nothing left to give. One final, thunderous CRACK echoed through the arena.
Keave crashed into the red stone floor below.
A deep, resonant BOOM rolled outward like a drum struck in the heart of the earth. Dust and shattered fragments exploded upward in a crimson cloud. The arena lights flickered as the shockwave rippled through the stands.
For a long second, silence swallowed everything.
Then the crowd's collective breath returned in a ragged wave.