"Come!" Roterberg commanded, and in an instant, an exceptionally long Montante vanished from his back and materialized firmly in his grasp.
Zoe had finally reached the dwarf and immediately unleashed a flurry of fierce strikes with her twin iron swords. Thanks to the superior reach of Roterberg's weapon, most of her blows failed to land. Yet, the few that did connect managed to hit the most vulnerable sections of his armor. Her uncanny, almost absurdly fortunate timing prevented Roterberg from landing any solid counterattack with his heavy blade. Though shallow cuts now marked her arms, legs, and shoulders, none were deep enough to hinder her movement or dull her determination.
But to Roterberg, those attacks meant little. No matter how precisely Zoe targeted the weak points of his armor, they were still ten times stronger than the reinforced sections of most armors sold in any market. With the strength and sharpness behind her swings, Zoe could have struck those same spots for hours without posing any real threat. The only area of concern was his exposed face—visible through the T-shaped opening in his helmet—but he guarded it carefully, making sure none of her strikes came near while his keen eyes observed the unusual swords she wielded.
"Damn it! Why can't I break it? What in the hell is this armor made of?!" Zoe shouted, her voice trembling with anger and frustration.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHA! My dear miss, it seems you won't be living up to your party name this time!" roared Roterberg, his booming laughter echoing through the arena. "As for the armor—it's forged from a special alloy of rare metals. A trade secret, I'm afraid. I can't just hand it out to the competition!"
Grinding her teeth, Zoe channeled her fury into speed. Her blades became a blur of flashing steel, slicing at the dwarf's armor faster and faster.
The clash continued for several minutes—metal shrieking against metal, sparks bursting like fireworks. Neither fighter could land a decisive blow. The crowd watched in rapt silence, breathless, wondering which of the two would finally tip the balance.
Then, at last, one of Zoe's swords chipped at the edge, a thin crack forming along the blade. Roterberg's eyes gleamed with sudden understanding. Having studied her weapons closely throughout the fight, he finally realized their secret.
"Wall of fire!" he bellowed.
A torrent of flames erupted from the ground in front of him, forming a blazing barrier. Zoe leapt backward just in time, narrowly avoiding the inferno.
"What the—?!" she gasped, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Return!" Roterberg called, and the enormous blade vanished from his hands, reappearing on his back. "Come!" he commanded again, and this time a new weapon materialized—a sword completely bound in thick, rune-marked bandages.
While Zoe's view was blocked by the towering wall of fire, Roterberg began methodically unwrapping the bindings. The audience above could see everything, their curiosity growing with every layer he tore away. Zoe, however, could only see the dancing flames, torn between advancing around them to strike from behind or waiting to see what he would do next.
Before she could decide, the fire wall dissipated, revealing the dwarf standing confidently, both hands wrapped in the same glowing bandages, gripping a sword as black as midnight. Its surface shimmered strangely, its texture neither metallic nor stone-like—something utterly alien. Even from a distance, the weapon radiated an ominous, almost evil energy.
Still, Zoe stood her ground. Even if she couldn't pierce his armor, she trusted in her own strength and defense. She smirked defiantly.
"You think that strange sword is enough to scare me? You should have realized by now that another blade won't change anything," she said with a cocky grin, though deep down, she knew her attacks had been futile so far. Her best hope now was to outlast the dwarf until the thirty-minute timer expired, forcing a draw—or, if she were lucky, a narrow victory. But her body was beginning to betray her. The constant barrage had exhausted her far more than she'd anticipated, especially after taking that devastating hit earlier in the match.
'Damn it! I should have used from the start' she cursed inwardly. Now, she had no choice but to rely on her most powerful spell—a technique she'd avoided because of its immense mana cost and the sheer physical effort it demanded to wield. But she couldn't hold back anymore.
Zoe brought her two iron swords together until their blades touched, then raised them high above her head.
"Great Iron Cutter!" she shouted.
Her swords glowed with a deep brown hue before merging into a single, massive greatsword—two meters long, with a blade half a meter wide. The ground trembled slightly as the enormous weapon solidified in her hands.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Roterberg's laughter boomed through the arena once again. "Now that's what I call a fine weapon! Come, missy—let me have a closer look!" he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he braced himself for the impending clash.
Zoe immediately felt the crushing weight of her newly forged weapon. It was as if her arms were about to be torn from her body, yet she refused to give in. Summoning every ounce of strength remaining within her, she swung the enormous sword with all her might.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" she screamed, using her own voice as fuel to push beyond her limits.
Roterberg didn't even attempt to dodge. Instead, he faced her head-on, raising his black blade to meet her strike. The instant the two weapons collided, Zoe felt a strange, hollow sensation—something intangible had been drained from her greatsword, though it appeared completely unscathed.
To her horror, the dwarf blocked her full-force attack with almost effortless grace. The black sword he held bore not even a scratch. Panic surged through Zoe as realization struck—her strongest move had done nothing. Acting on instinct, she dissolved her spell, causing the massive greatsword to vanish, and tried to retreat. With her two original swords intact, she hoped to fall back, regroup, and perhaps prolong the battle long enough for the timer to save-
But Roterberg's voice halted her.
"I'm sorry, girl, but I've seen all I needed to see. It's time to end this."
His tone had changed—still optimistic, still carrying his trademark confidence, but now layered with finality and a quiet seriousness that made it clear the battle was over.
Then, with startling speed for a warrior so heavily armored, Roterberg closed the distance between them. His movements were smooth, practiced—almost unnatural for a man burdened by such gear. Before Zoe could react, he swung the black sword in a powerful arc aimed at her back.
Praticaly everyone in the arena expected her to evade as she had so many times before.
But this time, she didn't.
The blade connected, cutting deep into her flesh. It wasn't a superficial wound like before. This was a fatal strike, a gash so severe that if left untreated, it would mean certain death. The crowd gasped as Zoe crumpled to the ground, her scream swallowed by the echoing silence that followed.
Her vision blurred from the pain. She tried to move, but her limbs refused to obey. Her small mana reserves were nearly empty from her earlier spell, and her body enhancement magic was fading fast. Somehow, she managed to push herself into a seated position, glaring up at Roterberg through sheer willpower.
"H-how did you hit me?" she rasped weakly. "My Horseshoe Magic was still active… A blow like that should've barely scratched me."
As the healers and attendants hurried toward the arena, Sequoria's composed voice rose from the royal box, providing the explanation before anyone else could.
"Horseshoe Magic, also known as Iron Luck Magic, is a rare derivative magic of Earth Magic," she began smoothly. "It's often mistaken for ordinary Iron Magic, but its effects are fairly different. The user can create iron constructs that, when in contact with their skin, greatly amplify their luck—making them nearly impossible to strike critically. It also subtly guides their attacks to their opponent's weak points. The key difference between Luck Iron and traditional Iron Magic lies in durability: the latter produces stronger, tougher materials, while the former sacrifices hardness in exchange for fortune's favor."
She paused briefly, her tone thoughtful. "At least, that's what's written in my Compendium of Rare Derivative Magic. I reread it recently while researching more information about the magic that Silent Gate uses, which is why I recognized the nature of Zoe's magic immediately. Sadly, there was nothing more about the dark portal magic of Silent Gate than what we already know."
"I see," said Caesar, his voice resonating with interest. "What a fascinating ability. I suspected that It was her swords that somehow allowed her to avoid Roterberg's attacks, but I hadn't imagined they were actually boosting her luck."
Lucas's eyes shone as he, too, pieced it all together, his fascination with the magic of Roterberg's opponent growing even more.
Then the former dictator added, "The Silent Gate you mentioned—is that the assassin I've heard so much about since my arrival in this city? The one who recently attempted to take Alberia's life?"
"That's right," replied Aislyra. "He uses a form of derived darkness magic which, from what we've observed, allows him to create black portals capable of transporting himself or other objects through them, completely ignoring distance. I don't know how useful it will be to ask you this, given how long you've been in this world, but... have you ever seen such a spell before, Hero Caesar?" she asked directly.
After pausing for a few seconds in thought, Caesar answered in his calm yet authoritative tone, "I'm afraid not, Lady Aislyra. I've never seen anyone wield such magic. But, given Ativ's vast experience and the fact that he also uses a form of derived darkness, I'll make sure to ask him if he knows anything about it."
"Thank you very much, Caesar," Lucas said gratefully, his voice carrying genuine relief. Yet the conversation reignited an fear within him—the possibility that the Silent Gate could strike again at any time. Despite the low likelihood of an attack during the tournament, given the overwhelming number of powerful individuals present, the thought of an assassin capable of emerging from any shadow, any surface, filled Lucas with unease. His pulse quickened at the mere image of it.
But those anxious thoughts were quickly swept aside as Roterberg's booming laughter once again echoed through the arena, drawing everyone's attention back to the field.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! It's simple, really!" the dwarf began, raising the strange black sword he had used to cut Zoe's back. "See this blade? It's forged from a mineral known as Tears of Ruin! It's an incredibly rare and extraordinarily durable ore—arguably the hardest to mine in the entire world. You see, it steals the luck of anything it touches, and if left in one place for too long, it even drains the fortune of the surrounding area—up to five hundred meters around it! That's why most pickaxes shatter the moment they strike it, and why miners near it often meet their end in cave-ins or toxic gas explosions. But thanks to my armor—one of my greatest masterpieces—and a good dose of courage, I managed to gather enough to forge this sword!"
He grinned widely, pride radiating from every word. "So when this blade came into contact with your fused swords, it absorbed their luck—and by extension, yours as well!"
The audience murmured in awe. Zoe, still sitting on the ground and struggling against the pain of her wound, looked up at her opponent with frustration. "But if that's true," she said through gritted teeth, "shouldn't it affect you too, since you're in contact with it?"
Roterberg let out another thunderous laugh as he carefully began wrapping the black blade again in the same strange, rune-covered bandages. "AHAHAHAHAHA! These aren't ordinary wrappings, lady. They're enchanted with lucky runes from my homeland—runes that completely nullify the sword's draining effect! That's why I always keep it wrapped and that why my hands were covered with the same material when I was using it!"
Zoe let out a long sigh, exhaustion and irritation mixing in her voice. "I see... So that's how it is. Well, I guess I've lost. There's clearly a reason why you were chosen to be part of Leore's new hero's party," she admitted reluctantly.
With that, Pinusal stepped forward, his voice booming across the arena. "The winner of this match—Roterberg Waffen!"
The crowd erupted in thunderous applause as Zoe was carried off the field by the tournament's medical staff. The dwarf waved proudly to the audience before leaving the arena, his deep laughter echoing behind him.
And so, the first match of the second half of the first day of the tournament came to an end. The excitement in the air grew even more intense.
The strongest knight was preparing to enter the arena.