The moment Scott blocked the strike, his entire body trembled from the impact.
Too fast—
Even with Blizzard active, even with hundreds of predictions flashing through his mind, the speed of her attack completely surpassed his expectations. His knife barely met her sword in time, and the instant they clashed, a terrifying force surged through his arm.
The next moment, Scott was sent flying.
His body tore across the arena floor, sliding violently for over a hundred meters before finally coming to a halt. Dust rose into the air around him, his vision spinning slightly as the system registered the damage.
His health dropped instantly from one hundred percent to twenty.
For a brief moment, Scott just lay there, staring at the sky above the colosseum. His arm throbbed, and even though this was a virtual environment, the pain still felt real enough to make his muscles tighten.
Then, slowly, he let out a breath.
"…So this is a Colossal Titan."
If that strike had happened in reality, he wouldn't even have a body left to complain about.
And yet…
A faint smile appeared on his face as he pushed himself back to his feet.
"I blocked it."
That alone was enough.
But Flower didn't give him the luxury of recovery.
The moment Scott stood up, she moved again.
There was no warning. No buildup. No wasted motion.
She simply stepped forward—and struck.
Scott's eyes widened as Blizzard flared to life once more. Predictions flooded his mind, dozens upon dozens of possible trajectories overlapping in his vision. He raised his Red Teeth Knife instinctively.
Clang!
The second impact came even faster than the first. Scott was pushed backward again, though not as far this time. His feet dug into the ground as he tried to stabilize himself, but before he could even recover—
Another strike came.
Then another.
And another.
Her blade flowed like water, yet carried the weight of a collapsing mountain. Each slash was precise, efficient, and perfectly timed. There was no hesitation in her movements, no wasted energy. It was as if every attack had already been decided long before she executed it.
Scott was forced completely on the defensive.
He blocked.
He dodged.
He retreated.
But he could not counter.
Not even once.
There was no opening—no gap, no flaw, no mistake in her technique. It was suffocating.
Scott's expression gradually turned serious.
This wasn't normal.
She was a Colossal Titan. Someone on that level could have ended the fight the moment it began. There was no reason for her to drag it out like this unless—
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"She's holding back…"
The realization struck him clearly now.
Not only was she suppressing her strength, she was doing it perfectly. Every strike was adjusted to match his level, pushing him to his limits without instantly killing him.
That level of control wasn't something just anyone could achieve.
Scott's grip on his knife tightened.
Meanwhile, Flower observed him calmly as she continued her relentless assault. Her expression remained composed, but there was a faint glimmer of curiosity in her eyes.
"…Interesting."
She had already reduced her strength to match his.
And yet, he was still standing.
Still adapting.
Still improving.
That alone made him abnormal.
Her blade shifted slightly.
Then her technique changed.
The moment it did, Scott felt it immediately.
Something was different.
Her sword no longer felt like a series of attacks.
It felt like a system.
Every movement she made forced a response from him. Every strike guided his next action. It was as if he was being led—controlled—dragged into a predetermined path.
Scott's breathing slowed as Blizzard intensified.
Predictions surged through his mind at an overwhelming rate.
Hundreds of possibilities.
Then hundreds more.
Every second, his brain processed over three hundred different outcomes, selecting one path and discarding the rest. The mental strain was enormous, but he didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
Because if he did—
He would die.
But as the fight continued, something began to change.
His predictions became clearer.
Faster.
Sharper.
Blizzard began to evolve.
At first, it had felt rigid—like a calculated sequence of forced actions. Now, it flowed naturally, seamlessly connecting one movement to the next. There were no gaps, no pauses, no wasted motion.
Scott's body followed his mind perfectly.
For the first time since the fight began, he wasn't just surviving.
He was keeping up.
Flower's eyes flickered slightly.
That subtle change did not escape her notice.
"…What is this?"
Her attacks were still landing, still pushing him back, but something was different now. He was no longer struggling the same way. His movements had become smoother, more refined.
More dangerous.
A thought crossed her mind.
Is he reading my mind?
The idea was unsettling.
Without hesitation, she attempted to probe him, to sense his intentions directly.
But she found nothing.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Impossible.
It wasn't that he was hiding his thoughts—it was that his mind was too clear, too sharp, too refined to be interfered with.
She stepped back slightly, creating a small distance between them.
Scott didn't chase.
He simply stood there, staring at her with calm, focused eyes.
Analyzing.
Calculating.
"You're good," Flower said after a moment, her tone calm but carrying a hint of pride. "No one at your level should be able to fight me like this."
Then a faint smile appeared on her lips.
"But I am Flower."
"You cannot win."
She moved again.
But this time, her technique changed completely.
The rhythm of her attacks shifted. The pressure increased. The control she exerted over the battle became absolute.
Scott's expression tightened.
This was worse.
Before, she had been guiding him.
Now, she was deciding everything.
Every path he saw led to defeat.
Every choice ended badly.
His mind raced.
If he followed her blade, he would lose.
If he didn't follow it, he would die instantly.
It was a perfect trap.
Scott's breathing grew heavier, but his eyes remained steady.
Then, suddenly, a memory surfaced in his mind.
That fight.
The one where a man had deliberately made mistakes—small ones, controlled ones—avoiding fatal damage while manipulating the flow of battle.
Scott's gaze sharpened.
"…I see."
Flower's smile widened slightly.
"Anyone who follows my blade becomes my puppet," she said confidently. "I decide their actions. My path is absolute."
Scott replied calmly, "You talk too much."
Then—
He closed his eyes.
For the first time since the fight began, he willingly gave up his vision.
Flower frowned slightly.
The next strike came instantly.
Scott moved—
Wrong.
The blade grazed his shoulder, drawing a shallow wound.
Another strike followed.
Again, he responded incorrectly.
Another shallow cut.
Then another.
And another.
Scott was making mistakes.
But they were not fatal.
Each one was controlled, calculated to minimize damage while breaking away from her influence.
The fight continued like that, their health steadily dropping.
Scott's fell to seventeen percent.
Flower's to twenty-seven.
Her expression darkened.
He was fighting her—with his eyes closed.
Then, suddenly, Scott opened his eyes.
And looked at her.
There was something different in that gaze.
Something cold.
Something sharp.
A chill ran down Flower's spine.
For a split second—
She hesitated.
That was all Scott needed.
He moved.
His body blurred forward like a ghost, his presence almost impossible to track. His blade cut through the air silently, aiming straight for her neck.
It was perfect.
A flawless strike.
Flower's pupils shrank.
In that instant, she understood.
If she didn't act—
She would lose.
Even if her attack landed—
She would die first.
That was unacceptable.
For someone like her, defeat at the hands of someone like him was simply not allowed.
Without hesitation, she released her suppression.
Her aura surged violently.
Her true power awakened.
And then—
Her sword flashed.
A single strike.
Everything ended.
Scott's body froze mid-motion.
Then his health dropped to zero.
His form began to fade into light, dissolving slowly.
Yet even then—
He smiled.
"Next time… you won't win so easily."
Flower stood still, watching him.
"…Your name."
Scott looked at her one last time.
Then he said, calmly,
"Hezbah."
Flower repeated it quietly.
"…Hezbah."
Then Scott disappeared completely.