A shadow moved across the corridor."Still breathing, I see," came a familiar voice, deep, confident.
Kairo turned slightly. It was General Rothan, one of Norveil's war strategists and the overseer of the tournament. His coat was lined with fur, his eyes sharp with experience.
"You've come far," Rothan said. "Few men have stood their ground against Ardent and lived, let alone won."
Kairo gave a small nod. "He taught me more in a few minutes than most men could in years."
Rothan smiled faintly. "Good. You'll need that lesson for what's coming next."
Kairo looked up, sensing the weight in his tone."Who's my opponent?"
The general crossed his arms. "We call him the Bloodhawk, Rael Norveil, commander of the Eastern Vanguard. He's fast, unpredictable, and ruthless. They say he moves like a bird of prey, strikes before the enemy even knows he's there."
"Sounds like a challenge."
"It's more than that," Rothan replied. "He's the King's favored warrior. Defeating him would be the same as defying the King himself."
Kairo's gaze didn't waver. "Then I'll give the King a fight worth watching."
Rothan chuckled, half-impressed, half-worried. "Careful, boy. The King admires courage, but he never forgives arrogance."
He turned to leave, but stopped halfway. "If you win this, you'll earn not just Norveil's crest, but its burden. Be sure you're ready to carry it."
Kairo didn't reply. He simply reached for his sword.
The arena erupted as the next match was announced."Second semi-final match! Kairo of Norveil… versus Commander Rael Norveil, the Bloodhawk!"
The crowd's roar was deafening. Flags whipped in the wind, drums thundered.
Rael entered first, lean, sharp, every step measured. His armor was lighter than most, designed for speed. Crimson feathers were etched along the shoulders, a mark of his nickname.
Then came Kairo. His pace was calm, steady, his presence quiet but heavy. Unlike Rael, he carried no ornamentation, no crest, just his sword.
When their eyes met, the air itself tensed.
Rael's lips curved into a faint smirk. "So you're the one everyone's whispering about. The white storm."
"And you're the Bloodhawk," Kairo replied. "I've heard you never miss your prey."
Rael tilted his head. "Let's see if the rumor holds."
The bell rang.
Rael moved first, a blur of red and steel. His blade sang through the air with inhuman speed, forcing Kairo to block instinctively. The impact sent a shock up his arm.
Before Kairo could recover, another strike came, then another, each faster than the last, each aimed to test a different opening. Rael's style was beautiful and deadly, more like a dance than combat.
Kairo ducked, deflected, and sidestepped, but barely.
The crowd gasped as Rael's sword grazed his shoulder, slicing through cloth. Blood seeped through the fabric, but Kairo didn't flinch.
"Not bad," Rael said. "Most fall within the first minute."
"I'm not one of those," Kairo replied, steadying his breath.
Rael grinned. "Good. Then I won't hold back."
He kicked off the ground, soaring upward, his mana flaring crimson. The air rippled. In a heartbeat, he was above Kairo, blade glowing red like molten steel.
He came down like a falling star.
Kairo crossed his sword overhead, the impact shaking the arena floor. Cracks split the stone beneath his feet. The pressure was unbearable; the crowd could feel it from the stands.
Then Kairo pushed back, a gust of wind bursting from his stance, repelling Rael just enough to break the lock.
The Bloodhawk landed lightly, spinning his blade once, eyes gleaming."So, the wind fights back."
They clashed again, faster this time. Steel struck steel in rapid succession, sparks and mana bursting like fireworks.
Rael's strikes carried the heat of fire mana, scorching the ground where his blade passed. Kairo's movements countered with controlled bursts of wind, cutting through the heat, dispersing it before it could reach him.
To the crowd, it was chaos, flashes of red and white, explosions of sound. But to the trained eye, it was poetry.
Each strike was a conversation. Each dodge, a response.
Minutes stretched like hours. Neither gave an inch.
Then, with a sudden shift, Kairo felt it, the subtle break in rhythm. He moved in, twisting around Rael's guard and landing a clean strike across the commander's chestplate.
The metal cracked.
Rael staggered back, laughing breathlessly. "Finally drew blood. Impressive."
"You're holding back," Kairo said.
"Maybe," Rael replied, eyes narrowing. "Let's see what happens when I don't."
He gripped his sword tighter. His aura changed, no longer just heat, but flame. The feathers carved into his armor glowed red, mana pulsing through them.
The Bloodhawk had awakened his heart to its maximum potential.
Rael dashed forward, no, flew. Every movement blurred, every strike faster than sight. Kairo was forced purely on instinct now, relying on his senses rather than sight.
Wind against fire. Control against chaos.
The crowd couldn't follow the fight anymore, just streaks of red and silver flashing through the haze.
A final clash shook the entire arena, a wave of pressure knocking back even the guards near the edge.
When the dust cleared, both warriors stood locked blade to blade. Blood dripped from Rael's mouth. Kairo's left arm trembled, cut from shoulder to wrist.
But both still smiled, faint, determined.
Rael spoke first. "You fight like a trained product, like a machine."
Kairo met his gaze. "And you fight like a man afraid to lose something."
For a moment, silence. Then both moved, one final exchange.
Two figures blurred past each other.
The arena held its breath.
Rael froze mid-step, then dropped to one knee. His sword hit the ground with a heavy clang. A thin line of blood ran down his chest.
Kairo stood still, his blade lowered, chest heaving.
The gong rang once.
"Winner: Kairo of Norveil!"
The crowd exploded into cheers, banners waving high.
Rael looked up at him, smiling faintly through the pain."You've earned it," he said. "Carry Norveil's pride well… Champion."
Kairo nodded silently, then sheathed his blade.