The sun rose over the colosseum, painting the sky in shades of yellow. The streets were alive with noise, people pouring toward the arena for the promise of a fight worth watching. Helios walked alone, calm and unhurried, his father's sword at his side. His face gave nothing away, no fear, no nerves, only focus. Today wasn't about glory. It was about principle. The crowd's chants grew louder as he neared the gates. They weren't here to praise Halo. No one liked Halo. They wanted to see him cut down, to see the arrogant bastard finally silenced. And if anyone could do it, it was Helios. The gates groaned open, flooding the entrance with blinding sunlight. Helios stepped onto the sand. Across the pit, Halo was waiting, pacing like a wild dog, lips curled into a crooked grin. His blade dragged through the dirt, leaving scars in the ground as he muttered to himself, his laugh sharp and unsettling. Helios exhaled and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. "He wants to humiliate me… but all I see is a desperate man clawing for attention." helios thought to himself. The crowd hushed as the two locked eyes. Helios tilted his head back, staring at the open sky above the colosseum. "How come you went through all this trouble just to fight me? I should feel honored, I guess… a so-called champion like you picking me out." Halo sneered, his grin wide and venomous. "Oh, trust me, this isn't about honor. I just want to wipe that smug look off your face. I want you humiliated in front of thousands. All I care about is power. Today, I'll show everyone here that I am absolute! My father's a fool for ever thinking you had a chance against me." Helios crouched slightly, running a finger through the dirt at his feet, lazily drawing a line. His voice was steady, almost bored. "Dang… you really do talk a lot. To be frank, I see why your father's disappointed in you. Just look at yourself. All you care about is tearing people down." For the first time, Halo's smirk faltered. His eyes narrowed, the cocky shine dimming with a flash of rage. "Shut your mouth, fool. Once I kill you, once I show my strength, I'll leave this pit behind and prove to the world, no, to every living being, that I am the definition of strength. Not even my older brother, Gideon, will stand a chance against me!" Helios rose to his full height, his hand brushing the hilt of his blade, his eyes never leaving Halo. "Is that truly your dream?" Halo raised his arms to the crowd, but his words were not for them, they were for Helios alone. His voice cracked the silence like thunder: "Foul tarnished… child of fleeting light… thou marked by a flame too weak to endure. Do you not see? That little spark you clutch, I will grind it beneath my heel. For mine is the hand that seizes ambition by the throat, mine the will that bends destiny itself. Tremble, Helios. For soon the hands of I, Halo, shall close around you, and all that you are will wither into ash." He strode forward, laughter echoing through the pit like the cry of a mad prophet. "Comrades, enemies, thousands upon thousands… I have cut them down like cattle, faceless, nameless, meaningless! And yet only you remain, Helios. You, and you alone, obscure the vision of my ascension. You are not an opponent. You are an error. A mistake in my grand design, and mistakes are to be corrected with blood." His eyes burned, his grin stretched cruel and wide. "I care not for love. I care not for the voices of the weak, or the gods who sit idle on their thrones. I was not born to please, I was born to reign. I will be the Absolute! The one before whom all bend knee, father, mother, gods, mortals, all. My name will be the law of this wretched world. And when the dust clears, when the heavens crack and the earth bows low, even Gideon, my brother, my so-called better, shall crawl in the dirt, broken, while I stand eternal." The crowd shuddered as his words fell like curses, but Halo's gaze never left Helios. His voice dropped, cold and venomous: "And you, little flame… will be the first sacrifice to crown my throne." Helios waited until Halo's words died, until the echo of his ambition faded into the sky. His voice, when it came, was steady, not loud, not shaken, but carved from stone. "You speak of crowns and thrones, of bending the world on its knees. But me… I dream of something else. I dream of bonds that cannot be broken, of strength shared, not hoarded. Power means nothing if it leaves you standing alone in the ashes." He looked at Halo, not with fear, not with hate, but with a calm certainty. "If I win today, Halo, I won't kill you. I'll offer you my hand. Be my rival, stand beside me. Because even arrogance like yours… deserves the chance to become something greater. You may see me as the flame that blocks your path, but I see you as the forge that could sharpen mine." Helios's eyes narrowed, a faint smile touching his lips. "And if you can't accept that? Then I'll defeat you with all the precision I've honed, and wait for the day you're ready to rise, not as a tyrant, but as a warrior worth calling brother." The two warriors stood still, eyes locked as if staring into each other's souls. The overseer's voice thundered across the arena: "ARE YOU READY!" Both nodded. The silence of the crowd was deafening. Helios drew his father's blade, holding it low in his right hand. Halo slid into his stance, sword angled behind his waist like a coiled serpent ready to strike. The snap of wood signaled the start. They vanished forward in the same instant, steel screaming as their swords collided at their throats. Sparks burst. Halo swung down hard, but Helios parried, the clash ringing like a bell. His counter forced Halo's arm wide, yet in that heartbeat, Halo's knee snapped up and his boot slammed into Helios's ribs. The breath tore from Helios's chest. But he didn't falter. This was no time to crumble. This was proof, a test of whether his countless hours of training, his new style, were worth it. His hand steadied on the hilt. His mind sharpened. Mana surged. Blue light bled down his arm, flowing into the blade until it hummed with power. Halo did the same, but his aura spread wider, wrapping not just his sword, but his forearms, his stance locked like steel. He moved. In a flash, Halo snapped into a strict stance, his strike so fast it nearly split Helios's nose. Helios arched back, bending at the waist, sword scraping the dirt. His blade ricocheted off the stone, flipping into his left hand as he slashed upward, just shy of Halo's chest. Halo sneered, retreating a step. "Multi-hit combo, Whistling Iron." His blade blurred. In a heartbeat, he sheathed, then drew again, but this time his reach extended unnaturally long, his mana stretching his strikes beyond their natural arc. Helios's eyes widened, this was new. Six slashes screamed toward him, vertical, horizontal, diagonal, relentless. But Helios's instincts burned hot. His sword flashed like lightning, steel on steel, blocking each strike in rapid succession. Clang. Clang. Clang. The sixth strike rattled his bones, but he pushed forward, closing the distance. Too slow. Halo twisted, sheathing and drawing again, his blade ripping through the air with blinding speed. Helios raised his sword just in time to avoid death, but the strike ripped across his back, hot blood spilling onto the sand. He staggered, then smiled. "BRING IT!" His roar shook the silence, blood boiling, muscles swelling with heat. His eyes burned, not green, but yellow, glowing like a predator's. He lowered his stance. His style was ready. Halo lunged from above, sword descending like thunder. Helios's blade spun free, twirling across his wrist, his back, even his legs, faster than the eye could follow. The crowd gasped, it looked like madness, but every motion was controlled. The steel spun upward, thrown into the air. Halo froze, caught by the unpredictability, his swing stuttering midair. And that was enough. Helios snatched the falling blade mid-spin, twisted, and slashed. His edge kissed Halo's cheek, leaving a thin red line across his face. The crowd exploded when Halo's cheek split, but the swordsmen heard nothing. Their world had narrowed to breath, steel, and instinct. Halo's tongue ran across the blood at his cheek. He smiled. "Finally." Then he was gone. Helios's senses screamed. He twisted sideways as steel carved past his throat, close enough to shear off strands of hair. Halo reappeared at his flank, blade already rising for the kill. Helios slammed his sword upward, sparks showering, the clash reverberating through his bones. Neither yielded. Halo pressed harder, each strike faster than the last, his movements clean, precise, like a machine forged for one purpose: to cut Helios down. Helios backpedaled, parrying strike after strike, boots carving trenches into the sand. Each block numbed his arms, each blow heavier than the last. Clang. Crash. Sparks burst like fireworks, the audience shielding their eyes. Helios's ribs still screamed from the kick, his back burned from the cut, but his blood sang louder. He thrived in this chaos. He spun his blade again, unorthodox, reckless, twisting it around his body in arcs that made no sense, until they did. Halo's eyes narrowed, the unpredictability breaking his rhythm. Their blades locked, faces inches apart. "You think chaos makes you strong?" Halo snarled. Helios grinned, blood in his teeth. "No. It makes me alive." With a roar, Helios shoved forward, his blade grinding against Halo's until it sparked white. He twisted low, knees scraping dirt, his sword flashing up in a brutal uppercut slash. Halo barely swayed back, the tip slicing his shoulder. The crowd gasped again. But Halo didn't retreat. He laughed. "Good. Now keep up," His blade blurred again, faster than before. Six slashes became twelve, then twenty, his afterimages painting the air. To the audience, it looked like a storm of steel. Helios's eyes tracked every strike, his Combat Sense burning white-hot. His sword met each blow, deflecting, redirecting, until his body ached from the strain. Halo vanished mid-combo. Above. Helios barely had time to tilt his head before Halo dropped from the sky, blade overhead, a meteor strike fueled by mana. Helios crossed his sword above him, BOOM. The impact split the stone beneath them, dust and rubble spraying like shrapnel. The arena shook. Helios was driven to one knee, teeth gritted, arms screaming under the pressure. Halo loomed over him, bearing down with sadistic joy. "Break!" "No!" Helios roared, golden sparks crackling from his skin. He twisted, rolling beneath Halo's blade, and exploded upward with a spinning slash. His sword caught Halo's ribs, carving a burning red line across his side. Blood hit the sand. The audience erupted, but Halo only staggered back a step. His grin widened, eyes wild, blood dripping down his waist. "Yes… YES!" he bellowed. "You're finally worth killing!" The words cracked like thunder, and then there was only steel. Halo launched forward, blade a blur of silver arcs. Helios met him head-on, the clash rattling the coliseum. Each strike Halo threw was monstrous, ripping air apart, gouging furrows into stone whenever Helios dodged. Their blades screamed, sparks lighting their faces in violent flashes. Clang. Crash. Whirl.
Steel bit steel, bodies twisted, fists and feet smashed between slashes. Halo feinted low, then ripped upward. Helios barely twisted aside, the blade carving his side. Pain exploded, hot and wet, but Helios answered with a slash across Halo's shoulder, their blood mingling on the sand. The crowd roared. "Multi-hit combo, Whistling Iron!" Halo's voice cracked the air. He blurred. Twelve slashes. Twenty. Thirty. A cyclone of steel rained down on Helios, faster than the eye could follow. Helios staggered, blocking high, parrying low, his arms numb from the sheer violence of Halo's speed. Sparks blinded him, each clash heavier than the last, until one strike broke through, cutting into his ribs and spinning him across the sand. Helios crashed, coughing blood, but rolled before Halo's follow-up cleaved the ground where his skull had been. Sand and stone exploded. Helios surged up, chest heaving, sword spinning erratically around his wrist and shoulder. Not elegance, instinct. He moved without thought, letting his body answer, letting his soul adapt. His blade spun, coiling and snapping in unpredictable arcs that caught Halo off guard. For the first time, Halo faltered. Helios closed distance, blade whipping around his back, leg, and waist before he hurled it skyward. Halo slashed upward to intercept, too late. Helios caught the falling blade in a reverse grip, twisting into a hurricane spin. Steel howled. The combo chained, slash, spin, slash, spin, slash, faster and faster until his sword was a storm. Each strike knocked Halo back, his guard breaking apart under the relentless assault. One final spin carved across Halo's forearm, his sword flew from his grip, clattering across the sand. Halo dropped to his knees, clutching the bleeding arm, his face contorted in shock. The overseer slammed the wooden blocks. BOOM! The sound echoed through the arena. The crowd erupted, roaring Helios's name, chanting, screaming until the coliseum trembled with their frenzy. But Halo's scream cut through it all. "WHAT! HOW CAN THIS BE?!" His voice cracked, wild, desperate. "BESTED BY THIS, THIS THING?! YOU INSIGNIFICANT BRAT!" Spittle flew from his mouth as his body shook, eyes blazing with bloodshot rage. "THIS IS NOT OVER! I LOST, BEATEN BY THIS OBJECT?! THIS FILTH?! IS THIS TRULY WHAT I LOST TO?!" His fists slammed the dirt, blood dripping from his knuckles. "I WILL SHOW YOU DIVINE JUSTICE! I WILL ERASE THIS SHAME! TIME TO RIGHT MY WRONGS!" His laughter twisted into something broken, a jagged sound that sent chills even through the roaring crowd. His body convulsed, veins blackening along his arms, his aura surging with raw, violent mana. His teeth bared like a beast, his scream half-human, half-monster. Halo was no longer just a man. He was a storm of madness, tearing at the world itself. The overseer stepped back, eyes wide. The crowd's cheers turned uneasy, then fearful. Helios stared down at his fallen rival, sword still in hand, realizing, This fight wasn't over.