The arena's air felt heavier than usual. Even the distant hum of the hovering camera drones seemed to fade under the sheer weight of anticipation. A sea of faces—students, teachers, and spectators—stretched out in the stands, all leaning forward as if afraid to blink.
Vadel stood at one end of the combat stage, his posture relaxed, yet every line of his body spoke of readiness. His right hand rested loosely by his side, fingers brushing the hilt of his sleek black katana. The weapon shimmered faintly under the stadium lights, its design as clean and precise as the mind that had built it.
At the other end, Celia stepped forward. Her long silver hair swayed gently with each measured step, catching the light like molten starlight. She held no weapon—none visible at least—but the way her crimson eyes locked on Vadel made it clear she didn't need one. Around her, a faint ripple of heat distorted the air, and the scent of ozone hinted at the volatile energy simmering beneath her calm exterior.
The referee raised his hand. The crowd's chatter stilled. Somewhere in the depths of Vadel's mind, a familiar voice clicked in with mechanical precision and lazy amusement.
"Scanning opponent. High energy output. Potentially lethal if you keep standing there like a decorative post. Recommendation: don't get roasted."
EON's voice was cool, laced with that dry sarcasm only Vadel could hear.
Vadel smirked slightly, his eyes still fixed on Celia. "Noted. Just don't get in my way."
"In your way? Please. I'll be cleaning up your mess when you overextend. Again."
The referee's hand dropped.
DING!
The sound cracked through the arena like a gunshot. Celia moved first—a blur of motion that sent the dust on the stage swirling. In an instant, the temperature spiked, a faint silver flame igniting around her fists.
Vadel's katana sang as it left its sheath.
SHING!
Metal met heat in a flash as Celia's fist slammed against the flat of his blade. The impact rang out—CLANG!—and the sheer force of it sent a shockwave rippling through the arena floor. Vadel slid back two meters, boots leaving faint scorch marks on the polished surface.
He adjusted his stance, exhaling through his nose. "Fast," he said, his voice calm, almost bored.
Celia's lips curved in the faintest smirk. "You're not too slow yourself."
Then she was gone again, reappearing in his blind spot. Her knee shot toward his ribs, a streak of burning silver light.
"Left side. Incoming at twenty-eight degrees."
Vadel pivoted, blade arcing in a swift backhand slash. Celia ducked under it, spinning low, her leg sweeping for his ankles.
He jumped, clearing the sweep by inches. Mid-air, his free hand flicked, and a thin, metallic thread glinted—one of his concealed dagger wires snapping into place. Celia twisted away before it could coil around her arm, her speed unnatural but precise.
The crowd roared, each exchange drawing gasps and shouts.
Vadel landed lightly, katana tip angled toward the ground. His eyes were sharp, measuring her every move. He wasn't here to win outright—not today. Not yet.
Celia dashed forward again, silver flames trailing her fists like comet tails. Vadel met her halfway, their movements blurring into a series of rapid strikes and parries. Each clash rang like steel bells.
CLANG! SHING! WHAM!
Celia's style was aggressive, unrelenting. Every blow carried heat that bit through the air, making Vadel's skin prickle. But Vadel… Vadel was water—flowing, redirecting, turning her force against her. His blade met her strikes with precise angles, deflecting just enough to avoid the full brunt without wasting energy.
Still, he could feel it—her strength was no joke. One solid hit and this fight could end before he had the chance to test her.
EON hummed in his head. "She's holding back."
"So am I," Vadel replied silently, sidestepping a burning palm strike that scorched the floor.
"Careful. She's adapting. And I don't like how quickly she's reading your patterns."
Vadel didn't answer. Instead, he stepped in, blade reversing in his grip, and struck at her shoulder. Celia blocked with her forearm, the silver flame around her flaring brighter with a hiss. Heat licked at his sleeve, threatening to catch.
He kicked off the ground, twisting over her shoulder, and landed behind her. She spun immediately, eyes sharp.
"Not bad," she said, her tone measured.
"Same to you."
The next exchange came faster. Her flames intensified, distorting the air, and Vadel's katana blurred into afterimages. Sparks scattered each time steel met flame.
BANG!
A sudden pulse of heat burst between them, forcing them both to spring back. The crowd's roar rose to a fever pitch.
The referee's voice cracked over the arena speakers. "One minute left!"
Both fighters straightened slightly, their eyes locked. Sweat beaded on Vadel's temple—not from fatigue, but from the sheer temperature radiating from her. Celia, for her part, looked almost the same as when the fight began, but there was a glimmer in her eyes now.
They moved at the same moment.
Vadel feinted left, ducking under her right hook, and brought his katana upward in a rising slash. Celia stepped in, catching the flat of his blade between her palms—heat exploding outward in a shockwave.
The ground cracked beneath their feet.
For a heartbeat, neither moved. Their eyes locked in silent calculation, muscles tense. Then—almost as if by mutual agreement—they both disengaged.
The final seconds ticked away. The referee's whistle blew.
FWEEEEEE!
"Time! The match ends in a draw!"
The crowd erupted, cheers and chatter spilling across the arena. Some shouted Vadel's name, others called for Celia, but more than a few were simply buzzing with confusion and awe.
Vadel sheathed his katana with a soft shhk. Celia let her flames dissipate, the heat haze vanishing as if it had never been there. They approached each other slowly, neither breaking eye contact.
"Looks like we'll have to settle this another time," Celia said, her tone neutral but her eyes… curious.
"Looking forward to it," Vadel replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
In the back of his mind, EON's voice came, low and amused. "Well, that was fun. But next time? Let's win. I'm getting bored of playing fair."
Vadel ignored the AI's tone, but his smirk deepened.
Somewhere deep inside, he already knew—this was only the beginning.