The entire arena erupted in cheers for the Sword God.
Those cheering for Clay were few and far between, their voices drowned out by the overwhelming chants for the Sword God.
"Hey! You bastard, don't just go around giving people nicknames!"
He had always thought his Lightning Blade was pretty cool, but compared to the opponent's title—Sword God—it suddenly felt childish. Comparison really is the thief of joy.
Normally, he loved being the center of attention. But this guy named Yoriichi had completely stolen the spotlight.
Unforgivable.
He had to teach this guy a lesson.
He would show them who the strongest really was.
"The contestants, please enter the arena!"
Kaien and Clay stepped into the arena.
Boom—!
As Kaien entered, the crowd erupted once more in thunderous applause.
Feeling the cheers of the crowd, Kaien felt a strange new emotion swell in his chest.
"So this is what it feels like to be a celebrity? No wonder people fight tooth and nail for it. It's not bad at all."
"Hey! You're Yoriichi, right? Your swordsmanship is impressive! But victory isn't just about sword skills. If you don't want to be completely humiliated, you'd better surrender now. Once I get serious, it's hard for me to hold back."
Kaien looked at Clay and replied, "Your talent is solid. Lightning magic greatly boosts your physical capabilities—but you lack control. That means your training is incomplete. Don't get drunk on the strength magic gives you. Focus on refining your swordsmanship."
Being lectured in front of everyone made Clay's face flush red. "Shut up! Save your preaching for after you beat me!"
"The second semifinal match!"
"Nine-Star Swordsman, Lightning Blade Clay, vs. the Sword God, Yoriichi!"
"And now~~!"
"Begin———!!!"
CLANG——————!
The gong sounded, marking the official start of the match.
Crackle—!
Clay dashed rapidly around Kaien, creating a ring of afterimages surrounding him.
"So fast—!"
From the stands, Clay's speed looked so extreme that no one could tell which was his real body.
"There it is!"
"Clay's Lightning Clone!"
"His speed is so fast it generates visual doubles. No one can tell where the attack will come from!"
"See this? This is my speed! Speed is power!"
"Transparent World!"
Kaien activated the Transparent World. In an instant, the entire world seemed to slow down. Clay's speed, which had previously been too fast to follow, now became clear to Kaien's eyes.
He could even see Clay's blood vessels, his moving muscles, and the rhythm of his heartbeat with perfect clarity.
He watched as Clay's heart rate spiked and his muscles shifted—Clay was about to attack. Kaien gripped his blade tightly.
At that moment, Clay appeared behind him, aiming to strike from a blind spot. No matter how fast someone's reaction was, they wouldn't have time to counter.
"It's over!!!"
Clay lunged toward Kaien—but the moment he got close, a wave of primal terror washed over him.
Every hair on his body stood on end. His instincts screamed, and his body stopped dead in its tracks like a frightened rabbit, rapidly retreating until he was pressed against the arena wall.
"Huh? Why did Clay retreat?"
"Yeah! That was the perfect chance to attack! Why'd he back off?!"
"Did he get scared just from a look?!"
The audience was baffled by what they were seeing.
Erza and Arthur couldn't tell what had happened either.
Clay, however, was drenched in cold sweat and frozen in fear. The moment he was about to strike, he had sensed a terrifying killing intent. If he had continued, he was sure...
He would have died.
Yes—died.
He could even see it. A vivid image of his own throat being slashed flashed before his eyes, so real that his neck still felt phantom pain.
"What the hell are you?!"
Clay screamed at Kaien in panic.
Everyone watching was stunned. Kaien had clearly not moved a muscle.
But Clay's panicked expression was clearly genuine. Had something happened that they couldn't perceive?
"Such sharp instinct."
Kaien offered praise. The moment Clay had prepared to strike, Kaien had already envisioned several counterattacks. The simplest—and most instinctual—was to sever his opponent's neck.
After all, demons could only be killed by sunlight or by decapitation.
As a former member of the Demon Slayer Corps, all of Yoriichi's sword techniques were built around slaying demons.
Even the killing intent in Kaien's gaze had nearly broken Clay's spirit.
Still, Clay was a Nine-Star Swordsman—he had survived countless battles and regained his composure quickly.
But the calmer he became, the more terrified he felt of the man before him.
Kaien stood there looking wide open, but every time Clay visualized an attack pattern, Kaien's eyes would give him that same terrifying illusion—his neck being severed.
Once. Twice. Thrice…
Every hypothetical scenario in Clay's mind ended with him losing his head.
The repetition drove him to madness. 'Is this guy some kind of freak with a fetish?! Why always the neck? Can't he just cut my arm or leg or something?'
Meanwhile, the crowd in the stands was utterly confused.
Wasn't this supposed to be a fierce match? Why was one guy standing still and the other running away like crazy?
And the way Clay was looking at Kaien—it was like he'd seen a monster.
Soon, the announcer chimed in with an explanation.
"Many of you may not understand what's happening. Clay did intend to attack, but Yoriichi's gaze stopped him."
"Every time Clay tried to find an opening, Yoriichi saw through it and prepared a counter. Yoriichi left no openings—so even in pure combat awareness, Clay lost every exchange. That's why he looks like a frightened rabbit. Among masters, even a single glance can decide the outcome."
The audience finally started to understand.
"You bastard! Who asked you to explain that?!"
Clay shouted at the announcer in frustration.