Soren and Alex stood frozen for a moment.
Labrys was still pressed down against the ruined remains of Alex's sword, the shattered blade pinned under its weight.
Only the hilt and a jagged stump of metal remained in Alex's grasp.
Soren blinked once.
"...Huh."
Alex looked at the broken weapon in his hand, then at Labrys, then back at Soren.
"Can I get a new sword?" he asked with a sheepish grin. "I didn't expect that to happen."
Soren slowly lifted Labrys away and let the broken blade fall to the ground with a clatter.
"Doesn't breaking someone's weapon usually mean they win, though?"
Alex shook his head.
"I said earlier, we have to either render our opponent unconscious or unable to fight," he reminded him calmly. "Besides, it'd be a shame to end it here, right? You still have more to show."
His eyes flicked toward the orb of blood floating beside Soren's shoulder.
Soren clicked his tongue.
"...Fine. Take this."
He reached into his inventory.
The air above his ring finger rippled as he pulled out a sword, a clean, well-maintained blade with a simple guard.
He tossed it toward Alex.
Alex caught it neatly and turned it in his hand, testing the weight.
"Hmm. This is a pretty good sword. You sure?"
"It's just something I picked up," Soren replied flatly. "Take it so we can continue. I'm the one at a disadvantage the longer we wait."
He spun Labrys once and let it shrink back down into its one-handed form, the axe compact and familiar in his grasp.
Alex nodded, then glanced toward the overseer's box.
"Can you count us down again?"
There was a short pause.
[…Okay.]
[3…]
Soren rolled his shoulders again, his wounds still stinging but manageable.
[2…]
The blood orb hovered quietly at his side, responding to his thoughts.
[1…]
[Continue.]
This time, Alex didn't rush in.
He stayed where he was, settling into a steady stance with his new sword held in front of him, guard up and weight balanced.
Soren narrowed his eyes.
'Defensive…?'
Alex was a Martial Studies student, giving an Arcane Studies student time and distance was the opposite of what he should be doing.
It made no sense… unless Alex had something else in mind.
Soren waited.
Alex didn't move.
The distance between them remained the same.
'Fine. If you're going to be stubborn…'
He lifted his left hand and snapped his fingers.
The blood floating beside him shifted; it twisted and stretched, the sphere elongating into a long, narrow shape.
In the span of a heartbeat, it had become a spear.
Technically, he didn't need the snapping or stomping.
The spells and blood responded to his will alone, but small motions like that made it easier to shift his focus mid-battle, tying intent to movement.
Stomping helped him picture where he wanted a magic circle to form and how he wanted it to change the ground.
Snapping helped him visualise forms, whether spear, blade, or shield.
To others, it probably looked like he was just showing off.
Soren grimaced briefly at the thought.
'Whatever.'
He snapped his fingers again.
The blood spear shot forward.
Alex shifted his sword, preparing to parry or deflect it, but just as the tip came within inches of the blade, the spear stopped.
It hung there in mid-air, frozen.
"「Breeze」."
Soren moved.
Wind gathered at his feet and exploded backwards, propelling him forward in a blur.
The world narrowed to the sight of Alex ahead of him, stance still defensive.
He closed in quickly, Labrys already raised.
The moment the axe began to move, the blood spear moved too.
It resumed its forward charge, angling in from Alex's other side.
A two-sided attack.
"I don't get it," Alex chuckled, even as his eyes tracked both threats. "Why do you always call yourself weak when you can do things like this?"
Golden mana glowed faintly along his blade as he shifted his footing.
「Einhardt Axemanship – Crescent」
Labrys's blade howled through the air as Soren brought it down toward Alex.
At the same time, the blood spear lunged in from the opposite side, aimed cleanly at a blind spot.
To anyone watching, it was clear.
Alex couldn't dodge both.
Soren's lips curled into a faint, satisfied smirk.
Just before his axe connected, he whispered under his breath.
Alex smiled.
"You got me."
Then the world stopped.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
There was no sound.
No movement.
But Soren's thoughts were still clear.
'I hate this…'
It was different from when they had fought Murmur.
Back then, his consciousness hadn't been active during the frozen world.
Alex was intentionally allowing Soren to continue thinking in this frozen space.
It was an almost cruel action, considering Soren couldn't do anything else but watch.
The stands were still full of people frozen mid-shout, mana-lights still flared along the seats.
Dust hung in mid-air between them.
Soren could move his eyes, but nothing else.
His body remained locked in the exact position it had been in the instant time stopped.
Alex, on the other hand, moved freely.
He turned his body, his expression relaxed, and watched the blood spear for a second.
Then he stepped forward, bringing his sword up.
He casually pushed the spear's trajectory upward with the flat of his blade, sending it spiralling harmlessly into the air.
Next, he stepped into Soren's guard.
Soren could do nothing but watch as Alex reached out with his free hand and gently guided Labrys downward, altering its path so that it would miss anything vital.
He lifted Soren's left leg with the side of his boot, shifting his centre of gravity.
"Sorry, I don't like how much I rely on this either, but if I didn't use it, then I wouldn't be going all out, would I?"
He raised his sword again.
"It was a good match, though. You're far stronger than you act."
Alex's sword began to descend.
At the same time, the words Soren had whispered to himself earlier finally connected in his mind.
'—protects me. 「Divine Barrier」.'
He had already spoken the invocation before time froze.
The incantation was hanging, incomplete, waiting for the world to move again.
Time lurched.
"—protects me. 「Divine Barrier」!"
The last of the words left his mouth just as motion returned.
A veil of faint light snapped into existence around Soren's body.
Alex's sword crashed into it.
The barrier shattered in the same instant, fragments of light exploding outward.
But its job was done.
The force of the swing dropped, even if only a little.
"Keuk–!"
The blade tore into Soren's waist, pain burning hot and deep as he was launched across the arena.
He hit the ground hard, slid, and rolled until friction finally dragged him to a stop on the opposite side.
"...Cough! Cough!"
He coughed violently, the taste of iron filling his mouth.
For a moment, it really did feel like a repeat of their first duel.
The same action.
The same suffocating pressure.
The same feeling of being tossed around like a ragdoll.
His hand pressed against his side.
Blood was already soaking through his clothes, warmth spreading down his hip and leg.
'Not again…'
He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up.
"Stitch thy flesh, I end thy agony. In the name of Aryn, 「Heal」."
Warmth spread from his palm, threading through his torn flesh.
The pain dulled from sharp agony to a deep, throbbing ache.
It wasn't a full recovery; his divine power wasn't anywhere near strong enough for that, but it was enough to stand and move.
"「Blood Absorption」."
The blood spear that had been knocked upward earlier was still suspended weakly in the air.
It dissolved at his call, streams of crimson flowing back toward him, disappearing into his skin.
The blood smeared across the ground and his clothes responded as well, lifting and disappearing as if drunk dry by an invisible mouth.
His breathing eased.
With every bit of blood he pulled back, his body stabilised.
He exhaled and straightened.
Across the arena, Alex was standing where he had finished his swing, sword lowered, watching with a smile.
There was no mockery in it, just simple satisfaction.
The sight made something snap in Soren's chest.
"Fucking bastard!" he shouted. "Was there any need to do all of that?! You could've just knocked me out!"
He could still remember clearly every slow, deliberate motion in that frozen time.
The way Alex had chosen his angles.
The way he had carefully avoided unconsciousness.
If Alex had wanted, he could have ended it with a single hit.
"Hahaha—"
Alex burst out laughing, one hand on his knee as his shoulders shook.
"Sorry, sorry," he said between laughs, "but it really wasn't intentional, you know?"
"As if! I literally watched you!"
"No, I'm serious," Alex insisted, straightening slightly. "You've seen my ability before, so you should know."
Soren's anger cooled just enough for him to look properly.
Sweat was pouring down Alex's face now.
His breathing was rough and uneven, and his grip on the sword was firm, but his arm was trembling slightly.
He was using the weapon almost like a cane, the tip pressed lightly against the ground to help keep his balance.
Soren stared.
'…He's exhausted.'
Alex's [Divinity] came with a cost.
Soren knew that much.
He had seen it during the Murmur fight and back in the Verdant Hollow.
Every time Alex used it, strain built up, even if he didn't show it immediately.
The fact that he was visibly struggling now meant he was already pushing himself.
For a brief moment, Soren's irritation faded.
Then he thought about the way his waist still hurt.
The anger came back.
His lips curled into a sharp grin.
If he could have seen his own expression reflected back at him, he would have been startled.
It was the same grin Amelia wore whenever she found a good fight.
"「Breeze」."
Soren moved before Alex could say anything else.
Wind exploded under his feet, propelling him forward in a fast, clean line.
"Shouldn't you at least let me catch my breath?" Alex asked as Soren closed the distance.
"Fuck that, my waist still hurts."
Alex lifted his sword, forcing his tired muscles to obey.
「Fialova Swordsmanship – Rising Edge」
He swung upward, aiming to catch Soren as he stepped in.
Soren stopped just short of the blade's path and thrust out his free hand.
"「Shock」."
Lightning burst from his palm.
It raced up Alex's sword, followed the line of his arm, and snapped across his body in sharp, jagged arcs.
"Keeurrkk–!"
Alex convulsed as the current bit into him; his muscles seized, his grip faltered, and his sword slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground.
Soren took another step in without hesitation.
Labrys rose high.
「Einhardt Axemanship – Sundering Fang」
He brought the blade down in a clean, heavy arc aimed at Alex's shoulder.
The weight behind the swing promised real damage if it landed.
As the axe descended, Soren met Alex's eyes.
"How many more times can you use that ability?" he asked, smirking.
Alex's answer never came.
Labrys stopped.
His own body stopped.
Time froze again.
"Hahh… Hahhh…"
Alex's ragged breaths echoed in the mute world as he straightened slowly.
The paralysis from [Shock] had faded now that the flow of time had changed.
He moved stiffly, as if his limbs were made of stone, and bent down to pick up the sword he had dropped.
His fingers twitched as they wrapped around the hilt; his forearm muscles were visibly strained.
Every motion looked heavy.
One step.
Two steps.
Each one was slow and deliberate.
He walked around Soren's frozen form and stopped in front of him.
Up close, Soren could see the faint tremor in his shoulders, the way Alex's jaw clenched as if he were grinding his teeth to stay focused.
Alex raised his sword with a bitter, exhausted smile.
"I win," he said simply.
There was no technique in the swing that followed.
No golden aura.
No mana enhancement.
Just a basic, clean cut.
The blade moved downward.
Time resumed.
Crackle—
Just before the sword reached him, something near Soren's ear reacted.
A thin, red veil burst outward from his skin, clinging close to his body like a second layer.
.
[[Null] has been activated!]
[Cooldown: 13:23:59:59]
.
Alex's sword hit the red veil.
It was like watching a rock fall into water and vanish.
The force, the sharpness, everything disappeared.
The blade passed through the aura and stopped as if it had struck nothing at all.
The attack was simply… gone.
Alex's eyes widened.
"You… still had something left?" he managed.
The strength drained from his body at once.
His sword slipped from his fingers and dropped to the ground with a dull clang.
In the next second, Alex's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto his side.
His eyes fluttered shut.
His breathing, for the first time since the duel began, started to steady.
"Uh…"
Soren stared down at him, Labrys still frozen in the position it had been in before time stopped the last time.
He hadn't moved at all.
There was no pain.
No new wounds.
The cut that was meant to decide the match had vanished without leaving a mark.
Up above, the arena remained silent for a few heartbeats.
Then the overseer's voice cut through the stillness.
[Soren Arden wins.]
The words rang out, clear and firm.
The declaration didn't feel real.
Soren looked from Alex's unconscious body to the red veil still faintly clinging to his skin.
It faded slowly, dissolving into the air.
'Bloodrop…'
He remembered the relic now.
He had expected it to lessen the blow, to reduce damage, maybe cut it in half; that was what he prepared for.
He hadn't expected this.
He hadn't expected it to erase Alex's finishing strike entirely.
Soren swallowed once and sank Labrys's head into the ground, using the weapon as support.
He looked up at the stands.
Hundreds of faces stared back at him.
Some in shock.
Some in disbelief.
Some with eyes that glittered with interest or calculation.
The noise crept in slowly, whispers at first, then louder voices starting to overlap.
— Did he just—
— What was that red light?
— Relic? Skill?
— He beat Alex…?
— No way, that was the Hero, wasn't it? He actually—
Soren tuned it out.
He looked back down at Alex.
The hero lay unconscious at his feet.
"...Did I win…?"
The overseer had already said so, but the words refused to settle properly in his head.
By every reasonable measure, Alex was stronger.
His base stats.
His talent.
His skills.
Even in this duel, if Soren stripped away the tricks and relic effects, it was obvious who was superior in a straight fight.
The only edge Soren had was his preparation and his items.
And even then, it shouldn't have been enough.
He stared at his own hand for a moment, flexing his fingers.
He let out a slow breath.
There was no rush of triumph, no swelling pride.
Just a calm, dull awareness of what this meant.
He looked up again at the rippling stands and the eyes fixed on him.
"...This is going to be a headache."
————「❤︎」————