"Winner: Seraphina Lyslender."
Seraphina calmly returned to her seat.
Kiato, watching from the stands, muttered, "Flame really is the nemesis of ice…"
Cheers erupted across the arena, then slowly faded as the referee raised his hand.
"Next up: Zereth Coldboom versus Dravenor Kaelrick."
Coincidentally, both men were sitting next to each other chatting. Upon hearing the match-up, Zereth chuckled.
"So we were born nemeses from the beginning."
Kaelrick smiled. They shook hands firmly.
"I wouldn't go easy on you."
They walked into the arena, taking opposite ends. Their swords were already drawn and held high between both hands.
Kaelrick activated his blade.
"Dolphin of the Deep, guide my blade. Flow swift and strike true… Awaken, Mizukiba!"
An illusion of the deep sea surged across the battlefield, drowning the world in shifting blues and haunting silence.
From the mirage's depths, a colossal dolphin—its body the size of a whale—burst forth, racing upward from the blade's base. Its massive form spiraled around Kaelrick, mouth wide in a silent cry, eyes glowing with ancient will. It paused before him, staring into his soul.
Then, with a graceful arc, it dove skyward, cresting the illusory tide before plunging back into the ocean of magic.
The water swallowed Kaelrick whole—and for a breathless moment, all was still.
Then—shatter.
The illusion broke like glass under pressure. The dolphin exploded into a cascade of real water, soaking the earth. Standing in the aftermath was Kaelrick, his cloak now a stormy dark gray, droplets trailing from its hem.
In his hand, he held a silver blade—not still, but flowing. Streams of living water coursed along its edge, endlessly moving like a river bound in steel.
He shifted into his stance, a confident smirk tugging at his lips.
"I'll give you a one-time advantage—activate your blade before I end this."
"Don't think too highly of yourself," Zereth warned. His gaze sharpened.
"Let silence fall… and ruin rise with frozen wrath."
His blade awakened—not too dramatic, but calm and humble. A simple wave of wind passed, and his blade darkened into ice. His cloak turned white and thick with bear fur, and a loud, echoing roar followed—its source unknown, like a wrestling polar bear's cry.
"It's clear you use water magic. A pity… because you're outdone," Zereth condemned.
"Don't count me out just yet. You should be the one praying not to be disgraced… by someone using a frail image of your ability."
Zereth charged forward.
"We're men—let action speak."
Kaelrick reacted instantly.
"Water Technique: Hydrostep."
He dashed past Zereth with insane speed, disarming him and tossing his Zepharion out of the arena.
"You can go pick it up… then find your way back home."
Zereth stood helpless, his expression filled with shock and disgrace.
Who knew he had such striking strategy under his sleeve? What do I do now?
Kaelrick shimmered. Then a common quote rang in his mind:
"Pride comes just before a fall."
"Water Technique: Tide Pulse!"
Water blasted from the tip of Zereth's blade, pressurized and deadly. Kaelrick stood frozen, fear erupting through his entire being.
He forced the words out of his mouth.
"I… I give up."
Caelum dashed in instantly, removing Kaelrick from the battlefield. He turned back to the crowd.
"Winner: Zereth Coldboom!"
Zereth walked by, letting the tip of his blade drag across the ground. Passing Kaelrick, he muttered:
"Don't underestimate your opponent ever again—whether ability or size."
The referee stepped back onto the field.
"Next up: Kiato Kenji versus Veylor Kryst."
"It's our turn already, Hinoyuki."
"My turn's early this year…" Veylor rumbled, leaping from his seat straight into the arena.
In the noble seats, Gundrick sat deep in thought.
"That name… Veylor. It feels strangely familiar."
Aldrin, his friend, voiced his concern. "It seems your son is up against the psycho killer."
Just then, Gundrick's memory returned.
"That's it—Veylor Kryst. The one who killed two participants in the last twelve years of Gallus Trials."
He turned to Aldrin with a tender smile, though his eyes hardened.
"Kiato will be fine."
His expression turned unreadable.
What will you do, Kiato?
Back at the battlefield, both contestants stood opposite one another—dragon versus demon.
The referee made it clear once more:
"Killing is not allowed."
Kiato nodded. Veylor smirked.
"Yeah, yeah—begin already."
Veylor's stance twisted like a cloth flapping on a thin rope. His aura exuded bloodlust—dark, suffocating, murderous.
"Be careful with him. I've got a bad feeling," Hinoyuki warned in Kiato's head.
"I feel it too. What kind of frost user carries this much bloodlust?" Kiato murmured, yet no fear crept into his voice—only the confidence of someone hiding a deadly trump card.
"Start!"
The referee leaped from the arena, giving them room.
"So… this might be my first time tasting noble blood," Veylor hissed. "I'll give you the choice—how do you want to die?"
Silence fell across the arena. Up in the noble seats, Gundrick kept his composure while the others stared, tension thick.
What's going on in his mind?
Back on the field, Kiato's only answer was the sound of steel leaving its sheath.
He activated his blade.
"Unleash the dragon's fury—Hinoyuki."
His hair unraveled into strings of flame cutting through glacier air. His cloak ran with veins of molten magma, crested in living crystal.
TO BE CONTINUED!!