The vice headmaster scanned the arena, waiting for the echoes to finally die down. Then, he turned toward the five contestants below.
"The final round begins now," he announced. His voice rang sharp and final. He sat back down, relaxed but expectant.
Kael immediately tore his eyes away from the podium and scanned the battlefield. The other four hadn't moved either. Each was watching, calculating, waiting for someone else to take the first step.
All except Cassandra.
She shot forward the instant the signal was given, sprinting straight for Serene. Their blades met with a thunderous crack. The two girls vanished into a whirling clash of steel and momentum.
Kael forced himself to ignore them. His gaze shifted to the right. Then to Liam. Then, he looked left at Samuel.
They both stood within sprinting distance of him. They were both stronger than Aric or Taro. Both were ready. Fighting either of them would be risky, Kael thought. But fighting both? Impossible.
So he made his decision.
He sprinted left toward Samuel.
Samuel flinched when Kael charged at him; irritation flickered across his face. He clearly hadn't expected Kael to be the first to move. He didn't know whether to confront Kael head-on or stall and wait for Liam to arrive.
Kael could see the hesitation.
It was his only advantage.
But Samuel only rolled his shoulders and rushed forward to meet him head-on in the center of the arena.
Steel crashed against steel. Their blades locked, and sparks flared between their eyes as their faces hovered inches apart.
Kael's expression twisted in pain as it lanced through his ribs and back where Taro's cuts had never fully stopped throbbing. Samuel saw it instantly. His grin widened.
With one powerful shove, he broke their blades apart and sent Kael stumbling backward. He took a step back, resetting his stance and preparing for a second clash. Kael steadied his breathing, pushed the pain aside, and glanced to his right.
Liam was sprinting toward them.
I have to win this before he gets here, Kael thought, his pulse quickening. If Liam reaches us, I'm done.
Samuel didn't advance. He simply lifted his blade, his posture firm and his expression cool. Waiting.
He's stalling for time, Kael realized. It was the right strategy. Damn him for it!
Think! Think!
Kael didn't move. He didn't take a stance. He didn't even blink. He just stood there, facing Samuel directly. Calculating. Remembering.
Up in the spectator stands, confusion rippled.
Liam was getting closer by the second. Any normal fighter would either close the distance or retreat. But Kael stayed rooted to the ground.
Artelia frowned, leaning forward in her seat and ignoring Cassandra's fight entirely.
"What is he doing?" she murmured to herself.
Her brother heard her and shifted his gaze toward Kael as well, raising one eyebrow in interest where there had been boredom before.
But Kael saw neither of them. He didn't see Samuel anymore, not really.
His focus had narrowed to a single thought:
The letter tied to Ausma's claw, Astra's quiet handwriting, and the memory she told him to use.
What if that message was meant not only to pull him out of his emotions but also to hint that he should find his own sword essence? She had definitely watched his fights. She must have noticed that he hadn't grown nearly as much as the others.
Kael closed his eyes.
He saw Samuel's confused expression flicker at the edge of his vision, but he blocked it out. Samuel was just waiting for Liam to arrive. Kael didn't have much time.
He forced himself back into the memory Astra had guided him to, to the moment in the Labyrinth when Astra spiraled out of control and he stepped forward without thinking.
No hesitation. No calculations. Just instinct.
He hadn't used his ability to react. He had used it to act.
To anchor her. To help her. To do what needed to be done.
His brows trembled as another realization hit him. Zaros's words echoed like a whisper behind his thoughts:
Focus on your own strength rather than exploiting someone else's weakness...
Kael inhaled sharply.
What if that applies to my abilities, too? He had only ever used them to counter or anticipate what others would do, never to strengthen himself. Maybe it was never meant to be a shield. Maybe it was meant to form the basis of my own fighting style.
This could work.
Kael opened his eyes, his resolve burning and his focus razor-sharp. A strange tension crawled over his skin. His mind was still reeling from the theory he had just formed, but his body moved before doubt could return.
He lunged.
Samuel barely had time to register Kael's sudden charge before steel flashed toward him. Shock twisted across his face, but his instincts kicked in and he raised his blade just in time to block. With his free hand, he pushed Kael away to create distance between them.
Kael stumbled back but didn't pause. He darted forward again, denying Samuel even a moment to stall for Liam.
Strike after strike rained down—high, low, to the shoulder and hip—but Samuel parried each one with practiced ease. The gap in skill was still there, sharp as ever.
Samuel shoved Kael back once more, leaving a shallow cut on his arm. Kael hissed through his teeth; the pain left his breath ragged. But he didn't retreat any further. He stood still for a second, just long enough.
He shifted his gaze.
He saw Liam approaching. He felt the fire of urgency tighten his chest.
Now. If I'm going to try this, it has to be now.
It's dangerous, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.
A single word rose in his mind, echoing like a bell struck underwater:
Kronos.
The world lurched.
The air thinned, the sounds dulled, and Kael's vision sharpened to a piercing clarity. Samuel's next actions revealed themselves like faint afterimages: he shifted his weight onto his right leg, tightened both hands around the hilt, and prepared a heavy downward slash meant to end the fight when Liam arrived.
Kael didn't react to Samuel.
He reacted to himself.
He turned his focus inward and ran through his possible movements as if they were a series of branching paths on a chessboard. Each one unfolded and collapsed until only one remained viable.
He locked onto it.
The instant his ability flickered out, Kael moved.
Without hesitation, he grabbed his sword with his right hand and threw it sideways at Liam. He didn't look directly at Liam—he didn't need to. The timing was already set in his mind.
The throw caught both Liam and Samuel completely off guard.
Liam was fast—fast enough to almost dodge it. But not fast enough.
The blade grazed his defense and buried itself in his shoulder.
A sharp cry tore from his throat as he staggered back, clutching the wound. Fury twisted his expression into something feral.
Samuel's head snapped toward Liam as his eyes widened at the unexpected attack. That single heartbeat of distraction was all Kael needed.
He lunged.
He slammed into Samuel with his full weight, driving the bigger boy off balance. Samuel's sword flew from his grip and skidded across the sand as he crashed to the ground, the air knocked from his lungs.
Kael didn't hesitate.
He slid behind Samuel and locked his arms around his neck, tightening the chokehold with his last ounce of strength. His muscles screamed. His ribs burned. His injuries throbbed under the strain, but he held on.
Samuel reacted instantly, clawing at Kael's forearms and trying to pry them loose. He was desperate for air. Kael tightened his grip, jaw clenched. His vision flickered from pain and exhaustion.
Samuel changed tactics, smashing his elbow and fist backward into Kael's ribs, liver, and kidney—anywhere he could reach. Each hit sent a jolt of white-hot agony through Kael's body, but he refused to let go. He gritted his teeth and took shallow but steady breaths.
Seconds dragged on like minutes.
Samuel's punches slowed.
His strength faltered.
His arms dropped uselessly to the ground.
Finally, he went limp.
Kael held the chokehold for a moment longer, just to be sure, then released it, taking a step back and immediately raising his guard in case Samuel attempted a final strike.
But Samuel didn't move.
He was unconscious.
Kael exhaled, releasing a shaky breath of relief and exhaustion.
It really worked," he thought, feeling triumph surge through him. He raised his hands and broke into a wide, unguarded smile—a smile he had never worn before. For a moment, victory flooded through him, warm and bright, drowning out everything else.
Then the world tilted.
His smile slipped away as his vision wavered. His mind went numb as a heavy fog rolled in. Black dots bloomed at the edges of his vision and spread quickly.
No... not now... he silently pleaded.
But the backlash of his ability, coupled with the brutal injuries he'd already sustained, was too much. His knees buckled. The arena spun.
He hit the ground hard on his back. The last of his consciousness slipped away as sharp pain dissolved into darkness.
For a moment, the arena remained silent.
Then, as the spectators realized what had happened, the silence shattered. Roars of awe and excitement erupted from the stands as students and professors alike were stunned by the fight's ferocity and desperation.
Up on the podium, Artelia straightened with a delighted gasp. She pointed down at Kael's unconscious form, her eyes sparkling like stars. "Brother, did you see that?" she laughed, unable to contain her excitement. "I've never seen someone fight like that! That was fascinating!"
Arthur didn't answer. He simply watched Kael, silent and unreadable, his gaze lingering far longer than any of the spectators realized.