The main arena was full. The announcement of the duel between the 5th and 9th centuries had attracted a crowd eager for a show. It was the first big duel since the ranking, a glimpse of the elite level.
In the locker room, Arthur stretched, an unusual calmness on his face. Hakime, Conor and Lyra were with him.
"He'll try to touch you with his shock waves," Hakime said. "They must have a limited range and probably a cooldown."
"Don't stay on the ground," Lyra added. "Her power is linear. It needs a surface to spread efficiently."
Arthur nodded, a mischievous glow in his eyes. "I have a new toy to try."
The signal sounded. Arthur entered the arena to cheers and boos. In front, Ren looked at him confidently. The referee, an impassive instructor, recalled the rules: no fatal blows, capitulation, or knocking out of action.
"Start!"
Ren immediately waved his hands, projecting a wave of invisible but air-distorting sound energy, which rushed towards Arthur. It was a broad attack, intended to limit his movements.
Arthur did not try to dodge it laterally. He used his Quickstep. But it wasn't a step aside. An explosive etheric impulse was triggered under his feet, propelling him straight upwards, more than five meters high, easily avoiding attack.
The crowd whispered, surprised. Rising into the air without being able to fly was a suicide, you became an easy target.
Ren smiled and adjusted his shot, aiming at Arthur in mid-air. "Fool!"
But Arthur wasn't still. As he began to descend, he again used his Quickstep, not down, but sideways, against a wall of energy in the arena. The impulse propelled him horizontally, as if he had leaned on concrete. He changed direction in the blink of an eye.
Ren, destabilized, launched another wave, too late. Arthur was already elsewhere.
It was the beginning of a dizzying show. For five minutes, Arthur transformed the arena into his personal playground. He hardly touched the ground. He used his Quickstep with incredible mastery, bouncing off the energy walls, the floor, and even, in a bold move, on the referee's protective shield. He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, a whirlwind impossible to follow.
Ren turned on himself, frantically launching his sound waves. But they were too slow, too predictable. He was hitting the air, the place where Arthur had just been, never where he was. Frustration could be read on his face. He spent his ether for nothing.
"Stop running away and fight!" he yelled, exasperated.
That's when Arthur chose to knock. As he bounced from the ceiling to the floor, he dived straight into Ren, his daggers shining. Ren, finally seeing a stable target, gathered all his energy for one last shot, a powerful concentrated vibration.
But Arthur was not so predictable. Two meters from Ren, he triggered a Quickstep not to move forward, but to slow down abruptly and change angles. He disappeared from Ren's field of vision and reappeared on his left flank. Ren's sound wave went off into the void, striking the arena's shield with an unnecessary rumble.
Before Ren could turn around, Arthur was on him. The handle of his dagger struck behind Ren's knee, causing him to collapse. The other dagger landed slowly on his throat.
Silence was in the arena.
"I wasn't running away," whispered Arthur, his breath barely accelerated. "I was dancing. And you didn't have the rhythm."
The referee whistled the end of the fight. Victory for Arthur Leclerc.
The cheers broke out, especially among lower-ranking students who saw Arthur as proof that speed and intelligence could triumph over raw power. Arthur raised his head, looking for his friends in the stands. He caught his eye on Hakime, who nodded approvingly. Then his gaze rested on Loïd, sitting further away. The latter did not raise an eyebrow, but his expression was darker than ever.
The message was clear: touching Hakime's team was a risky undertaking. Arthur had not only won, but he had done so with overwhelming superiority, without even having to use the tips of his blades. The position of the top five had just been consolidated. And Arthur's aerial dance had sent a warning to all contenders: the rules of the game had changed. Extreme mobility was a weapon, and Arthur was already the master.