The dust swirled between them like it knew neither dared blink first.
Shiki tilted his head. That lazy, half-smirk was still there, but there was a new weight in his eyes—like a man who'd finally decided to step down from the spectator stands of his own fight.
He dropped his other hand into his pocket, then slowly took them both out.
"Alright," he said, voice low enough the crowd had to lean forward. "No more games."
The words slithered through the courtyard, sending a ripple of whispers.
Seraphina's grip shifted. That flicker of anticipation in her gaze betrayed her—just for a heartbeat.
Shiki moved.
Not magic. No glowing circles. No crackle of aura. Just… a man. And yet the impact when his foot hit the stone made the air jar in the lungs of everyone watching.
The Knight-Commander swung first, her blade a streak of light. Shiki's palm met it mid-arc. Not to stop it—he let it slide along his skin, redirecting it just enough that it cut past him harmlessly. His other hand shot forward, aiming not for her face, never her face, but for her sword arm's gauntlet. The sheer weight behind the touch sent her sliding a meter back, boots groaning against the flagstones.
She came in again, fast—angrier now. He answered with raw, physical speed. Every strike met, every counter precise, his movements shockingly minimal for the force behind them.
"Careful now," he murmured during a clash, their faces inches apart. "If you mess up that pretty face, I might have to call foul."
Her jaw tightened. "Worry about your own."
Another flurry—steel ringing like church bells in a storm. He caught the flat of her blade between his hands and shoved. She stumbled but didn't fall. He let her recover, deliberately.
The crowd was loud now, voices tangled between awe and disbelief. Even Corvathen was leaning forward, knuckles white on the rail. Lyra's hands were clasped in front of her lips, eyes wide. Ai's gaze didn't waver from Shiki—not even once.
Minutes stretched. Neither slowed. Seraphina's breathing grew heavier, but her footwork stayed disciplined. Every opening he gave, she lunged for. Every lunge, he shut down without bruising her—his restraint obvious to anyone who'd ever seen a killing blow.
Finally, during one tight exchange, Shiki caught her blade mid-swing and held it there. His grip didn't crush the steel—it simply wouldn't move.
He smiled. "Let's finish this."
Seraphina's pulse thudded in her ears. "Finish it, then."
She stepped back, raising her blade to her cheek in a formal stance. "Give it your all."
He nodded once.
And then—magic.
Not SSS magic. Not even the magic the Archmages used. This was wrong. The sky dimmed like clouds had swallowed the sun whole, yet no cloud moved above them. The air pressure spiked until every hair stood on end.
Magic circles began blooming in the air around him—first one, then another, then dozens. Layer upon layer, they interlocked and rotated, their geometry dizzying, some big enough to fit the entire arena inside, others small enough to spin just above his palm.
Lightning arced between them like chains trying to break free. Flames licked along the runes, curling upward into burning streams. The colors were wrong—too vivid, too deep—like a dream you weren't supposed to remember.
The courtyard fell silent.
Lyra's hands trembled. Her lips parted in horror. She knew what this was. "G-God-Class…" she breathed.
Even Seraphina felt her mouth dry. Her instincts screamed danger. Not the kind you fight—the kind you run from.
"Shiki!" Ai's voice was sharp. She stood now, fists tight.
But Shiki's gaze stayed on the Knight-Commander. "Brace yourself."
The last circle locked into place. Lightning and fire merged into one colossal spear of incandescent annihilation, hanging above like a judgment.
When it fell, it wouldn't just hit Seraphina—it would erase the courtyard, the guildhall, the city.
And then—
"NOW!" Seraphina roared, cutting forward with every ounce of courage she had.
The spear came down.
Everyone screamed. Lyra's heart froze.
And it vanished.
One heartbeat, it was there—devouring the sky. The next, nothing but clear blue overhead.
When Seraphina's eyes focused again, he was in front of her. Not an inch of magic left in the air.
His hand was on her head, fingers threading gently into her hair, petting like she was something precious and fragile.
"Sorry I scared you," Shiki said, smiling with infuriating warmth. "Now give up."
Her chest heaved. Pride warred with relief, and pride lost. She shut her eyes, jaw tight. "…I yield."
The courtyard erupted—not with boos, but with sheer, chaotic noise.
Ai didn't cheer. She stormed forward, fists balled, and slammed them into Shiki's chest. "IDIOT! WHAT WAS THAT?! YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST—" She hit him again, harder. "—BURN EVERYONE'S BRAINS OUT WITH YOUR—" Punch. "—STUPID GOD MAGIC?!" Punch.
"E-Easy—Kitten—"
The crowd was roaring "THE WIFE WINS!"
Shiki flailed, laughing through the pain. "It was controlled! I swear!"
"CONTROLLED MY—" She punched again.
Lyra, mid-run to check on Seraphina.
Ai's brow furrowed. Her eyes… drifted lower.
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END OF CHAPTER : 21 : GOD VS SSS! : 3
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