Lyric was blown into the dirt, rolling for a moment, and only just able to pry herself up fast enough to evade a shoulder-tackle. He followed the miss with a fireball aimed dead at the ground—a ploy to kick up dust and debris as a smokescreen to set up and maintain his advantage.

"Don't think that'll work!"

Lyric tore through the smoke and met his intended chase head-on. She shattered a last-second block and continued with another mighty overhead, this one nailing the crook of his neck, an accompanying blast of wind and water blowing away some of the burning aura he'd built up as he flew into the southern wall.

Kyoya's resolve continued unbroken.

He smashed free of the rubble and made contact before she could gain any meaningful advantage. Another Power Clash brought the both of them to their absolute limits: Miscreant and Seraph, either in a state of champion's desperation to see this battle to it's end.

It seemed that they both knew well that they'd drawn this on for far too long. "Forget the after-party, I'll make this the big one!"

Lyric disengaged and killed his mobility with tethers of water, gaining enough distance to comfortably begin spinning her staff. By the time he was able to break free of the aquatic shackles, she'd conjured an entire miniature storm to surround herself. "LOOK ALIVE! CLOUDBURST HURRICANE!"

The Seraph jumped and threw her staff as if it were a boomerang, then landed on that howling veil. She called upon an enormous tornado that brought with it monsoon rains, completely eating away at the rest of his fire.

As she drew nearer, the strength of the winds pulled him closer and closer to defeat, leaving him no option but to either beat it head-on—or lose trying.

"DAMN STRAIGHT! WE'RE DONE HERE!"

The Outburst Dragon's image appeared instantly; its roar sent Kyoya's fire back into a cerulean frenzy. He dash-stepped back, focusing every last bit of the blistering aura into his being.

His flames kept amplifying by the second—a challenger's response to the reigning champion's final act of offense. As moments passed, Kyoya dug his heels in deep, readying himself for a vicious return. Finally, once the screaming cyclone closed in, he roared and blasted forward, intercepting the storm with a breakneck charge.

He bit down and ignored the winds making mincemeat of his body; no cut or gash would prevent his impending collison. Even some of the sand on the arena's floor was forced to melt into shimmering glass as the two explosive forces met. "OVERKILL OUTBURST!"

The Miscreant rocketed forward and straight into the eye of the storm with total, savage abandon, enveloped entirely by a meteoric cloak of flame. The following eruption of steam and dirt threatened to annihilate even the barrier around them; a deafening screech signified the ongoing clash between the blaze and the storm.

A second explosion brought about the end of the screaming elements, leaving a shower of water and soot clouding any view into the arena.

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Once visibility was restored, gasps quickly made up for the sudden lack of noise.

"I... I don't believe it!" stammered a slack-jawed Rory, flipping up his helmet's visor.

Ryder slammed her hands on the desk and stood, practically screaming into her makeshift microphone.

"THEY'RE STILL STANDING, EVEN AFTER TAKING EACH OTHER'S FINISHERS HEAD ON!"

As she'd observed, the Legends stood bloodied and battered, some ten feet apart.

Steam and falling water remained where the clash had conceded. No movement persisted within the arena, save for the pitter-pattering rain brought about by two attacks of nigh unmatched power.

Neither Reclaimer budged, not even so much as blinking.

Kyoya hadn't even taken the time to truly see what they'd done to each other until that point.

Lyric's clothes and armor were torn, tattered, and dented, with bits melted off of the metal and burnmarks on several pieces of cloth. Even he still sported burns from the multiple Galvanic Surges—the skin around his stomach was practically charred.

Among the Seraph's cheeks were cuts, bruises, and smudges of dirt, all keeping her cinnamon freckles company. Although the bruises on his end were likely worse, they were much clearer to see on his opponent.

All the while, the pair's eyes remained locked just as before their battle.

An unmatched intensity gleamed in her gaze's softened autumn. The boy winced, clueless as to how such a contradicting combination of tender ruthlessness could offer such closure—even when they intended nothing but pure contempt.

He didn't even notice Lyric fall to her knees. As if on cue, his legs gave out in suit.

Solitaire's raised hand brought with it the mightiest surge of cheer he'd ever heard.

"That's the match!" she announced. Rosy energies flowed from her open palm to the middle of the arena and settled between the two combatants. "By definition of Double-Elimination, the opening duel between Kyoya Miskrit and Lyric Seraphim concludes in a draw!"

That energy seemed to mingle with something at the battlefield's center. Soon enough, it morphed into a green mist identical to that of what Guran had done following the Miscreant's battle with Reika. The relief came slowly, but it beat than laying there with a wicked full-body headache.

Kyoya soon found his feet; an immediate stretch put away the rest of any pains. Lyric had similar plans, up and dusting herself off just as quickly.

She sighed and shook her head, looking back up at him with that cozy smirk.

"I guess fifty points didn't do much for me."

"C'mon, you fought great. It's not like I beat you."

"You may as well have. Never had one go that far and lose it since my training started... so we'll call that one a partial victory."

"Is that right? Somebody told me not too long ago that if it doesn't get the job done, it's a miss."

Lyric's mouth opened to counter, but slowly closed as whatever she'd planned to say was bitten back. The journey of a few stubborn tears down her cheeks immediately threw the boy around, but an ever-attentive Seraph just laughed it off.

"Easy, Blue, this is just part of the deal: you squashed a three-year winning streak, you bully." she sniffled, using some of the cloth from her vest's collar to wipe her eyes. "Either way, we're tied for the top, now. Dumb as it might sound, I never really figured I'd have to share my throne..."

The last of Lyric's waterworks had come and gone; that signature amber glint now shone bolder and prouder than ever before. "But I don't think there's anybody I'd rather be wrestling for the title."