The arena was silent, the crowd holding its breath in anticipation. Dust floated in the air beneath the glowing lights, and the faint hum of energy barriers lining the combat grounds gave off a low vibration that only heightened the tension. Two figures stood on opposite ends of the stone floor, unmoving, each poised like a statue before the storm.
Luke gripped his long silver spear tightly, its tip glinting under the artificial sun above. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, were locked onto his opponent across the field—Riven, clad in black, holding a sword that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. The blade was long, single-edged, and unnervingly quiet, like the calm before a strike.
Both warriors stood still, their shadows stretching long across the stone.
Luke narrowed his eyes. ''How am I going to get past that sword?''He thought.
Riven's reputation preceded him—fast, unpredictable, and calculated. Luke rolled his shoulders back slightly, letting the tension ease through his muscles. The spear gave him reach and versatility, especially against swords.
He'll wait, Luke thought. ''Wait for me to make the first move. ''
''He'll want to read me before committing. Which means... I need to feint early, break his expectations.''
Meanwhile, Riven stood with his face toward Luke, his stance low and perfectly balanced. His black sword was tilted downward in a deceptively relaxed grip. But his mind wasn't entirely on the man in front of him. It was on the plan—on calculating every potential movement Luke might make.
''That spear's going to be a problem, ''Riven mused internally.
'' Its length gives him the edge at mid-range. He can keep me back, and if he knows how to move it well, it'll be hard to close the distance.''
He shifted one foot slightly. Just enough to feel the ground. Not enough for Luke to notice.
Spears are good for defense during close combat, Riven continued in his mind. But if the wielder doesn't have a plan of action—if he's just reacting—they tend to leave openings. Gaps in stance. Especially on the pivot.
He could picture it already. Luke lunging. The spear aiming low to force a dodge. That would be the test. A movement to bait.
My best strategy will be to stop the spear's movement altogether, Riven thought.
''Redirect it. Control it. If I can lock it for even a second, I can land a strike. But even then... the range of the spear is still a problem. I'll have to be precise. Surgical''.
Riven inhaled through his nose slowly, exhaled. The blade in his hand felt right. Heavy enough to strike with force, light enough to follow through. It wasn't about strength. It was about control.
The announcer stepped into the holographic booth above the arena. A synthetic voice echoed out over the space, clear and sharp.
"Combatants ready?" the voice asked, and neither warrior moved.
Luke's grip on his spear tightened just slightly. His eyes stayed locked on Riven's. Riven's expression was unreadable, his mind still behind that calm mask.
The announcer gave no further pause.
"Ready..."
A light flickered above the arena.
"Three…"
Luke shifted one foot back, angling his stance into a defensive-forward position. The tip of the spear lowered just an inch.
"Two…"
Riven didn't move at all. Not a breath. But inside, the calculations were racing.
"...One."
There was no more time for thought.
"GO!"
The moment the announcer shouted "GO!", both warriors exploded into motion.
Riven surged forward like a shadow given form, his black sword gleaming in the artificial light. Luke instantly adjusted his stance, spinning his long spear in a tight, circular motion in front of him—an elegant barrier of steel and force, ready to intercept.
Riven's eyes narrowed.'' I thought he'd do that,''
he mused. Classic defensive spear technique. Spin to deflect, force close-range attackers to hesitate. But hesitation wasn't in Riven's nature.
Without slowing, Riven cast Phase Step, his form flickering, becoming momentarily translucent. He dashed straight into Luke's spinning defense. Luke, recognizing the incoming threat, didn't falter. His instincts kicked in—his hands moved in sync with his will.
He casted Fire Step.
With a small burst of flame under his boots, Luke launched himself backward, heat scorching the ground below him as he narrowly escaped Riven's phase dash. His feet landed firmly, his eyes never leaving the black figure in front of him.
But Riven wasn't done.
He lunged again, this time with more aggression, his blade leading a swift arc toward Luke's midsection. In a flash, Luke responded—he planted the base of his spear into the ground, using it like a vaulting pole. With a burst of strength and momentum, he flipped upward, narrowly evading the strike. His body twisted through the air and landed just beside Riven.
Luke smirked slightly. ''I've got the edge now, he thought. He didn't expect that.''
His spear spun in his hands, the point aimed toward Riven's exposed back. But just as he prepared to strike, something caught his eye.
A shimmer. Movement. A blade.
From the corner of his vision, he saw it—a second Riven. A black sword came hurtling toward him. Without hesitation, Luke's body reacted before his mind even finished processing.
He casted Earth Wall!
The ground beneath him cracked, stone and dirt surging upward. Jagged spikes of earth erupted in front of him, slamming into the figure with violent force.
The second Riven shattered like glass, breaking into dark fragments that dissipated into thin air.
An illusion, Luke realized. That wasn't the real one...
Too late.
The real Riven, having used the illusion as a feint, was already on the move. He took advantage of Luke's momentary distraction and dashed forward once again, a blur of motion across the stone arena.
But Luke had already turned his focus back. He swung his spear defensively, creating distance between them. Riven responded in kind, casting Phase Step again and phasing through the spear's arc as though it were made of air.
He's getting too close, Luke thought, sweat forming on his brow.
As Riven came out of the phase behind him, Luke didn't stop his movement. He twisted and cast Wind Cutter, the air forming a crescent-shaped blade around the head of his spear. Simultaneously, he dashed backward, eyes locked on his opponent.
The slicing wave of wind slashed forward, passing through Riven's shoulder. A fine red line appeared along Riven's left arm, a clean cut.
Riven winced, his feet skidding slightly as he ended his dash. He stepped back, blood trickling from the wound. His black eyes met Luke's, and for the first time, there was a flicker of surprise. The Wind Cutter had connected.
Luke didn't give him time to recover.
He noticed Riven's spell aura had dimmed slightly. He's used up most of his Astral magic, Luke thought. This is my chance.
Luke sprinted forward, his spear held low. He thrust with precision, aiming for Riven's chest. But Riven saw it coming. He raised his blade, and steel met steel.
Sparks flew.
The sound of clashing metal echoed through the arena as the two weapons locked in a brutal struggle. The spear and the sword ground against each other, neither side giving way. Dust kicked up around their feet as they pushed forward, each trying to overpower the other.
In that frozen moment, eyes locked, muscles tensed, only thoughts moved.
Riven narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth. ''As this clash goes on... I don't know what he's thinking. His grip tightened. But that's exactly why this is dangerous. Not knowing... not being able to predict...''
''That's power.''
''Predictability is a weakness. Unpredictability—that makes you dangerous.''
He broke the clash with a sudden twist of his blade, pushing off and creating space.
Luke took a step back, ready for the next move, his chest rising and falling with sharp breaths. The cut across Riven's arm was bleeding, but not slowing him. Still, the edge was shifting. Both could feel it.
Each step, each spell, each clash had cost them a fraction of energy, a split second of clarity.
Now, it was about more than strength or magic—it was about who could read the other faster... or hide their next move better.
The next exchange would decide everything.