The sky above the world's great cities shimmered with golden runes. Once again, the fluttering pixies of proclamation scattered light across the heavens, carrying with them the announcement every living being, human and fairy tale alike was waiting for.
The second round had shaken both sides to their cores. The loss of Artemisia and Alexander had scarred humanity, but it also left a burning reminder: they could stand against legends. Now, anticipation boiled over as glowing letters began to form across the clouds.
Every pair of eyes lifted, desperate, fearful, or gleeful.
Yesterday, they have been revealed with the custom arena advantage that the Grimm's brothers have chosen for this fight and for the humanity side this time the arena chosen doesn't really affect their chosen warrior.
Now, it is for the fighter nicknames revealed.
Noah and Lucianne stood shoulder to shoulder in their underground command chamber, hearts pounding as they braced for the reveal. In their silence, both remembered the last moment in the corridor: Musashi lazily raising his console, refusing to take things seriously. Would he rise when the time came? Or would his detachment crush their chance at redemption?
Meanwhile, in the Grimm Brothers' obsidian throne hall, Hans leaned forward in his seat like a child awaiting fireworks, while Leo watched with calculating calm. Their champion sat quietly beside them, hood still drawn, fingers tapping the edge of her scythe. Her eyes didn't flicker with excitement or nerves—only the still, sharp boredom of a predator.
The golden runes across the sky finally stabilized.
ROUND 3:
"THE WANDERING BLADE vs THE BLOOD COLOUR HUNTER"
The world erupted.
In the crowds of humanity, cheers of recognition mingled with anxious murmurs. "The Wandering Blade", the name itself carried an air of mystery and strength. Some whispered tales of Musashi, the man who fought all challengers and never lost. Could he be humanity's next hope?
On the other side, the fairy tale audience roared in anticipation. "The Blood Colour Hunter", a name spoken with both reverence and fear. A huntress whose legend was painted in gore, whose scythe never missed its prey.
In the human command room, Lucianne's eyes darted to Noah. Her voice trembled.
"…You believe in him, don't you?"
Noah exhaled slowly, his leader's mask unbreaking.
"Yes. The blade that wandered through a thousand duels, through history itself, he's the only one who can carve us back into this war."
In the Grimm throne room, Hans leapt to his feet, spreading his arms as if to embrace the world.
"Wolves, sheep, and men alike, let the hunt begin!"
Leo's lips curled into a smirk. "A wandering blade always finds its path… but let's see if he can escape the jaws of a wolf."
Beside them, Little Red Riding Hood, the Blood Colour Hunter, pulled down her half-wolf mask just slightly, the corner of her lips twitching upward. For the first time, she whispered, almost too soft to hear:
"Finally… something worth hunting."
The day has arrived.
Humanity once again will be tested again for their hope for survival.
The arena for round 3 has been set. The type of arena that has been revealed this past Thursday is a forest arena.
The forest arena loomed like something out of myth. Towering trees curled around the colosseum walls, vines dangling like the hands of an unseen crowd, and the ground was layered with soft moss that hid a hundred shadows. The audience for this forest colosseum stands brimmed with people and creatures. Today, more humans than ever before have come. Despite their fears, despite their losses, they came to believe, to witness.
The Grimm Brothers' balcony was bright with gold. Hans, swirling his goblet, laughed under his breath. Leo, calm as ever, only lifted his chin, eyes glinting like a hawk's. Their confidence was unshaken.
On the other side, the human balcony told another story. Noah gripped the railing tightly, his shoulders rigid, while Lucianne's fingers trembled as she held her chest. Nervous. Scared. But unyielding.
From above, in his little hot air balloon, Rumpelstiltskin grinned, voice booming through magical echoes.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, CREATURES OF TALE AND MEN OF FLESH! WELCOME TO ROUND THREE!"
The forest itself seemed to breathe as the crowd roared.
"And now… first, from the side of the Grimm! A huntress born from fear itself, cloaked in crimson, wielding the fang of the wolf and the scythe of blood!"
The gates of the fairy tale side split open. A howl pierced the air.
She emerged.
A small figure, at first petite, wrapped in a flowing red hooded cloak that trailed like liquid fire. At her side, a pack of spectral wolves padded silently, their eyes glowing silver. A crescent-shaped scythe gleamed in her grip, red as a harvest moon, its blade dripping like it had tasted blood already. A half-wolf mask hid her face, but when she tilted her head upward, her eyes glowed a haunting crimson.
"Her name is whispered across time… the Blood Colour Hunter… LADY ROSE!"
The stands erupted in fairy tales chanting her name, while humans shivered at her presence. Lady Rose stepped into the center of the arena, wolves fading back into shadows, her crimson cloak billowing like wings. She stood still, scythe dug into the earth, waiting for her prey.
Rumpelstiltskin, his grin widening, turned to the opposite gate.
"And from the side of humanity! He is the wanderer who never found a home but carved his path with the blade! The swordsman of a thousand duels! The wandering storm of steel! THE WANDERING BLADE!"
The human gate rumbled open. The crowd held its breath.
Nothing.
Silence spread like wildfire. Humans began whispering, fear gnawing at their hope. The fairy tale side burst into laughter, jeers echoing across the arena. "They've fled!" "Cowards!" "Humans kneel before the huntress!"
In the VIP balcony, Lucianne's heart plummeted. She turned to Noah with wide, panicked eyes. He clenched his jaw, muttering under his breath,
"Don't tell me…"
They rushed down from the balcony, slipping past guards, until they reached the gate.
And there he was.
Miyamoto Musashi. Flat on the ground. Wrapped in his blanket. Sleeping.
Lucianne nearly screamed in fury, her fists shaking.
"Are you serious right now!?"
Noah slapped his palm to his face, dragging it down slowly with the deepest sigh.
"Unbelievable."
The swordsman cracked one eye open, scratching his head.
"…Give me five more minutes."
"WHAT!?" Lucianne snapped.
"Didn't sleep last night," Musashi muttered, yawning. "That game you gave me… final boss was a pain."
He pulled the blanket tighter around himself.
"So yeah. Five more minutes."
Out in the arena, Lady Rose tapped her scythe impatiently against the ground. Her crimson eyes narrowed behind the wolf mask. The wolves began to growl, echoing her irritation.
The crowd grew restless. Humans' whispers turned into panicked murmurs, "He's not coming?" "Are we going to lose without a fight?" The fairy tales laughed louder, mocking the very idea of a wandering blade.
And at the center, Lady Rose tilted her head, her voice dripping venom as it carried across the forest air:
"…Am I here to hunt a warrior? Or a child too afraid to wake up?"
The arena vibrated with tension, hope dangling by a single thread.
Literally after 5 minutes of waiting with both sides kind of grew with annoyance.
The arena, heavy with anticipation, shook with laughter and ridicule from the Legend side while the human audience could only groan in despair. Musashi finally strolled in, not with the aura of a hero, but like someone crashing a sparring match at a dojo. His sandals scraped lazily across the ground, blanket still half-draped over his shoulders like a cape he forgot to remove.
"Is that the legendary Musashi???", "So, it is The Vagabond, Miyamoto Musashi.", "But, why is he like that?", "Is this really our hope?" murmurs spread across the human side of the audience.
The murmurs turned into gasps when Musashi reached down, gripping the swords at his side… only to pause.
A short chuckle escaped him.
"Ah… wrong blades."
He unsheathed them to reveal not steel, but two dulled, battered wooden practice swords.
Noah and Lucianne froze in mortification, slapping their foreheads in unison. The human crowd groaned in misery, they asked themselves, what kind of joke was this? The last samurai of humanity armed with practised toys?
Hans Grimm spat his wine back into his goblet from laughing too hard, while Leo wiped tears from his eyes. "This is your savior? A drunk ronin with firewood in his hands?"
But across from him, Lady Rose did not laugh. Her crimson hood swayed gently as she leaned her scythe against her shoulder. Her golden gauntlets gleamed with menace. Her half-wolf mask tilted as she muttered,
"Pathetic."
Her eyes narrowed, not with hatred, but with weariness, with disdain. Boredom incarnate. A predator who saw no thrill in the chase.
Musashi squinted at her across the battlefield. Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Ah. That's it. Those eyes." He tapped the wooden blade on his shoulder.
"Boredom. You hunt, yet nothing excites you. That makes two of us. But I wander until I find it."
The crowd hushed. For the first time, his careless posture shifted into feet slid apart, knees bent, and both wooden blades turned loose yet sharp in his grip.
Lady Rose spun her scythe, the crescent weapon glowing like a bloody moon in the forest arena.
"Then amuse me, wanderer," she said, voice dripping with quiet threat.
The fight has begun and the vibe is exploding through the colosseum.
The hunt began.
Rumpelstilskin's shout FIGHT!
The shout echo hadn't even faded before Lady Rose blurred forward. Her petite frame betrayed her speed with one heartbeat, she stood still, the next she was already inches from Musashi, her scythe screaming through the air like a crescent of blood-red lightning.
The audience gasped. A single swing could split a tree in half.
CRACK!
Wood met steel. Musashi caught the scythe's curved blade with both his wooden swords crossed like a lazy "X." The impact sent a shockwave through the moss-filled grass, dust bursting into the air. The crowd stared in disbelief because his practice blades should've shattered, yet he held his ground, sandals scraping but unbroken.
Lady Rose pushed harder, the golden gauntlet tightening around her weapon.
"You're stalling. These aren't even real blades."
Musashi's grin widened. "A sword's a sword if you know how to cut with it. Steel or wood, it makes no difference."
He twisted his wrists, redirecting her massive scythe in a circular arc. Lady Rose stumbled half a step, but immediately flipped, her utility belt clattering with throwing knives. She hurled three in quick succession toward his throat and chest.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Each knife was batted aside with lazy flicks of wood. It looked like a game to him with how each strike redirected with almost insulting ease.
The crowd of humans gasped, hope beginning to flicker again.
But Lady Rose wasn't finished. Her hood fell back slightly as she spun her scythe, planting it into the ground. The weapon pulsed crimson, glowing like a crescent moon rising in the forest night. The trees of the arena shivered, leaves trembling.
Musashi's smirk faded just slightly, his eyes sharpening.
"Ah… now this is interesting."
The Blood Colour Hunter yanked her scythe free, her mask glinting under the crimson aura. "I'll paint these woods with your life."
She dashed again, the ground cracking under her small frame. Musashi finally lifted one blade to his shoulder, the other held low, his body leaning forward.
The Wandering Blade was done playing.
Lady Rose's movements blurred, her scythe came from above, curved wide, then split into a deceptive feint that snapped toward Musashi's ribs. He parried the first, twisted away from the second, and with a sharp exhale stepped forward, wooden blade flashing for her shoulder.
CLANG!
The scythe's crescent teeth intercepted, sparks erupting from wood meeting steel. For a breath, they were locked. Then Rose's gauntlet pulsed, the scythe shuddered with explosive force, throwing Musashi's balance off just enough.
Her eyes lit up with the first hint of excitement.
"There it is."
SHHHK!
A thin crimson line bloomed across Musashi's chest. The wooden guard hadn't been fast enough this time, the scythe's edge carved a shallow but deep enough wound to draw blood.
The forest went silent. Humans gasped. The Grimm brothers raised their cups in mock cheer.
Musashi looked down. Blood ran in a thin rivulet, dripping into the forest ground. Then he laughed, quiet at first, then louder, shaking his head.
"Sharp. Very sharp. You really do hunt well."
Rose twirled her scythe, scarlet aura swirling higher around her, feeding off the blood in the air. Her mask glowed faintly, wolf-like, as if savoring the moment.
"Good. You bleed… then maybe you're worth killing."
Musashi shifted his stance. No more lazy posture, no more half-sleepy smile. His eyes focused, deadly serious for the first time since he entered the arena.
He dragged the wooden blade across his wound, letting the blood smear the surface.
"Wood or steel… doesn't matter. My blood has woken the blade."
The tension thickened. The forest trembled as if it knew two predators were finally ready.
The hunter who sought excitement.
The wandering swordsman who found it in blood.
The fight had only just begun.