As the tension in the air grew thick, Emma Goldstone and Matteo Amador stepped onto the sparring grounds. The class fell silent, each student focused intently on the two combatants. Matteo gripped his broadsword with both hands, determination etched into his features. He was carrying the weight of his family's honour, especially after the loss his sister had suffered earlier. Emma, on the other hand, held her staff confidently, her reputation as a Goldstone riding on this fight.
Before the fight began, Blaze leaned over to Azrael, his eyes narrowing as he analysed the combatants. “Emma’s going to win this one,” he said, voice low but sure.
Azrael looked up at him, curious. “How do you know?”
Blaze’s gaze never wavered from the arena. “Matteo’s going to try and control the battlefield with his plants, but he’s too straightforward. Emma’s got the wind on her side. She’ll use it to control the space, keep him on his toes, and then strike when he’s off balance. She’ll chip away at him until he’s too worn out to fight back effectively.”
Azrael nodded slowly, taking in Blaze’s words as the match was about to begin.
Garo called for the start, and Matteo wasted no time. With a thrust of his broadsword into the ground, vines erupted from the earth, snaking their way towards Emma. The greenery was dense and powerful, moving with surprising speed as they attempted to ensnare her.
Emma didn’t flinch. With a flick of her wrist, she twirled her staff, and a gust of wind shot forth, slicing through the vines before they could reach her. The cut vines fell to the ground, writhing like severed limbs, but Matteo wasn’t deterred. He pulled the sword from the earth, the blade now glowing faintly with a green hue as it drew strength from the nature around them.
Matteo charged forward, swinging his sword in a wide arc. The blade cut through the air with a low hum, aiming to cleave through Emma’s defense. But Emma was ready. She spun her staff, creating a barrier of wind that met Matteo’s strike head-on. The wind howled, pushing back against Matteo’s sword with surprising force, forcing him to step back.
Without missing a beat, Emma countered, directing a focused gust of wind toward Matteo’s feet. The force lifted him slightly off the ground, enough to disrupt his balance. Matteo stumbled but quickly recovered, slashing his sword downward to force the wind away from him.
Emma was relentless, though. She moved gracefully across the sparring grounds, each step calculated, her staff weaving intricate patterns in the air. She sent more gusts of wind at Matteo, each one more precise than the last, aiming not to knock him out but to wear him down. Matteo’s vines tried to regain control, but Emma’s wind was too swift, too cutting.
Matteo tried a different approach, thrusting his sword into the ground again, this time summoning a wall of thick, thorny vines in front of him. The vines formed a barrier, blocking Emma’s view of him. But Emma was undeterred. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them with a fierce determination. She twirled her staff above her head, and the wind around her began to swirl, faster and faster, creating a mini-tornado in her immediate vicinity.
With a decisive motion, she thrust her staff forward, and the tornado launched toward Matteo’s wall of vines. The powerful windstorm slammed into the barrier, shredding the thorns and leaves, breaking it apart piece by piece. The force of the wind sent debris flying in all directions, and Matteo was forced to leap to the side to avoid being caught in the storm.
Blaze smirked, watching intently. “See? She’s not giving him a chance to recover. She’s playing the long game, waiting for him to tire himself out.”
Matteo, breathing heavily now, tried to regain the upper hand. He swung his sword in a wide arc, directing the remaining vines to lash out at Emma from all directions. For a moment, it seemed like he might have her surrounded, the vines closing in from every side.
But Emma remained calm. With a fluid motion, she spun her staff in a circular pattern, creating a dome of wind around herself. The vines slammed into the barrier, but the wind was too strong, deflecting them away. Matteo gritted his teeth, trying to push through, but Emma’s control over the wind was too precise.
Emma then took the offensive. She pointed her staff at Matteo, and a concentrated blast of wind shot out, aimed directly at him. Matteo barely managed to bring his sword up in time to block, but the force of the wind knocked him back, making him slide several feet across the ground.
Realizing he was running out of options, Matteo made one last desperate move. He drove his sword into the ground again, channeling all his remaining energy into one final attack. The ground beneath Emma began to rumble, and massive roots erupted from below, trying to entangle her legs and pull her down.
Emma’s eyes narrowed as she felt the ground shift. She jumped back, using the wind to propel herself into the air just as the roots exploded from the earth. In midair, she flipped gracefully, her staff glowing with a soft blue light. As she descended, she unleashed a powerful gust of wind downward, pushing the roots back and clearing the area around her.
Matteo, now visibly exhausted, tried to pull his sword from the ground to continue the fight, but his movements were sluggish. His energy was nearly depleted, and Emma could see it.
“This is it,” Blaze muttered to Azrael. “She’s going to finish it now.”
Emma landed softly on the ground, a determined look in her eyes. She pointed her staff at Matteo, and with a final flourish, she summoned a gale of wind that surrounded him, lifting him off his feet and spinning him in the air. Matteo struggled to break free, but the wind was too strong, disorienting him.
With a swift motion, Emma brought her staff down, and the wind slammed Matteo into the ground, pinning him there. The force was strong enough to knock the sword from his hand, and it clattered to the side, out of reach.
Matteo tried to rise, but the wind kept him down. He was completely spent, his energy drained, and he knew the fight was over. Emma stood over him, her staff pointed at his chest, her breath steady despite the intense battle.
Garo stepped forward, raising his hand. “The match is over. The winner is Emma Goldstone.”
The class erupted in applause, the students clearly impressed by the display. Matteo, though disappointed, nodded in respect to Emma as she helped him up.
Blaze leaned back, satisfied. “Told you. She’s good. Knows how to play to her strengths.”
Azrael nodded, his admiration for Emma growing. The match had been a true test of skill, strategy, and endurance, and Emma had come out on top, proving her worth as a Goldstone.
//////////////
As the names "Ashelyn Vonstrakov" and "Lawrence Goldstone" were announced, the tension in the air thickened. These were two of the top students, and everyone knew that this match would be a true test of skill.
Before the match began, Garo stepped forward. "Ashelyn Vonstrakov, you will not be permitted to use your magnetic powers directly on Lawrence, and Lawrence Goldstone, you will refrain from using your water manipulation abilities. This will be a pure test of your combat abilities. Do you both agree?"
Both Ashelyn and Lawrence nodded in agreement, their expressions determined.
Luis leaned in toward Haru and Aurora. "This is going to be intense. Without their powers, it’s all about technique and strategy."
Aurora nodded, her eyes on the two fighters. "Ashelyn is fierce, but Lawrence has the patience and precision. This is going to be close."
The match began with a swift exchange of blows. Ashelyn, wielding her multitude of axes with impressive skill, launched a relentless offensive. Her attacks were fast and aggressive, each strike calculated to overwhelm Lawrence.
Lawrence, however, was ready. His trident moved in fluid, controlled arcs, blocking and deflecting Ashelyn’s strikes. He was clearly playing the long game, waiting for an opening.
"Ashelyn’s not holding back," Haru observed. "She’s using her offensive strength to try and keep Lawrence on the defensive."
"Lawrence is keeping his cool, though," Luis added. "He’s letting her tire herself out."
Ashelyn’s axes spun and clashed against Lawrence’s trident in a series of rapid, powerful blows. She was pressing hard, trying to break through his defenses, but Lawrence was calm and composed, his movements deliberate and precise.
"She’s trying to wear him down, but Lawrence is conserving his energy," Aurora noted. "He’s not letting her get to him."
The two fighters continued their back-and-forth exchange, neither giving an inch. Ashelyn’s aggressive style contrasted sharply with Lawrence’s patient, defensive approach. Every time Ashelyn tried to land a decisive blow, Lawrence was there, deflecting or dodging with ease.
"Ashelyn’s putting everything into her attacks," Haru said, his eyes glued to the fight. "But Lawrence is just too steady."
"She’s trying to force him into making a mistake," Luis commented. "But Lawrence is a tough opponent. He’s waiting for her to slip up."
Ashelyn, realizing that her usual tactics weren’t enough, adjusted her approach. She began to use her axes more strategically, controlling the magnetic field around them to increase their speed and force. Each strike was faster, stronger, pushing Lawrence harder.
"She’s upping the intensity," Aurora pointed out. "Trying to catch him off guard."
Lawrence was feeling the pressure now. Ashelyn’s enhanced attacks were coming faster, and it was becoming more difficult to keep up. But he held his ground, his trident a blur as he deflected her strikes.
"Lawrence is getting pushed back," Haru noted. "But he’s still not giving her any real openings."
The match continued, with both fighters giving it their all. Ashelyn’s relentless offense was beginning to take its toll on Lawrence, but she was also starting to tire. Her breathing grew heavier, and her movements, while still powerful, were losing their earlier sharpness.
"She’s starting to slow down," Luis said. "But Lawrence hasn’t capitalized yet."
Lawrence saw his moment. As Ashelyn launched another powerful attack, he sidestepped, using his trident to parry her strike before sweeping her legs out from under her. Ashelyn stumbled, but quickly recovered, swinging her axes in a wide arc.
Lawrence barely dodged the attack, the blade of one of her axes grazing his side. He retaliated with a quick thrust of his trident, forcing Ashelyn to step back.
"They’re both running on fumes," Haru observed. "But neither of them is backing down."
The two fighters were visibly exhausted, but neither was willing to concede. Ashelyn, determined to win, pushed forward with one final, desperate assault. She hurled her axes at Lawrence with everything she had, trying to break through his defenses.
But Lawrence was ready. He parried the axes with a powerful sweep of his trident, disarming Ashelyn in one swift motion. Before she could react, he closed the distance, pressing the tip of his trident to her throat.
Garo stepped forward, calling the match. "Winner: Lawrence Goldstone."
The class erupted in cheers, impressed by the fierce battle they had just witnessed. Ashelyn, though clearly disappointed, accepted her defeat with grace, acknowledging Lawrence’s skill with a respectful nod.
Luis, Haru, and Aurora exchanged glances, their respect for both fighters evident. "That was one hell of a fight," Haru said, a hint of admiration in his voice.
"Lawrence is a force to be reckoned with," Luis added. "But Ashelyn gave him a run for his money."
//////////////
As the dust settled from the previous match between Ashelyn and Lawrence, the class could feel the tension in the air. There were only two fighters left who hadn't yet faced off, and everyone knew this was going to be a match worth watching. The anticipation was almost palpable as all eyes turned to Blaze and Haru.
Blaze, standing with his arms crossed, looked directly at Haru. A confident smirk spread across his face as he uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. "I guess it’s you and me, Tadashima," he called out, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I’ve been waiting for this."
Haru, never one to back down from a challenge, met Blaze's gaze with a calm, focused intensity. "I was thinking the same thing," he replied coolly, taking a step forward himself. "It’s time to see who’s really got what it takes."
The class fell silent, every student watching the two with bated breath. The tension between them was electric, almost as if sparks were flying in the air. This was more than just a match; it was a clash of wills, a test of who would emerge as the dominant force in their group.
Blaze tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he sized Haru up. "You’ve been talking a big game, but let’s see if you can back it up," he taunted, his smirk growing wider. "I’m not going to hold back just because you’ve got some fancy bloodline."
Haru’s expression remained steady, unfazed by Blaze’s words. "It’s not about bloodlines," he shot back. "It’s about who’s willing to go the extra mile, who’s ready to put everything on the line to be the best. And trust me, I’m ready."
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
A ripple of excitement ran through the class as they listened to the exchange. Even those who had been resting after their own matches perked up, eager to see how this confrontation would play out. Aurora, seated nearby, watched Haru with a mix of concern and admiration, while Luis couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s determination.
Blaze chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Big words. Let’s see if you can live up to them," he said, cracking his knuckles as he walked toward the sparring area. "I’m going to enjoy putting you in your place."
Haru followed, his steps measured and confident. "I’ve been looking forward to this, too," he said evenly. "Let’s give them a show they won’t forget."
As the two took their places on the stage, the rest of the class gathered around, forming a loose circle to watch. The air buzzed with anticipation, the energy in the room crackling as if the match had already begun.
Garo stepped forward, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Blaze vs. Haru Tadashima," he announced, his tone indicating the seriousness of the match. "This will be the final match of the day. Fight with honor and show us your true potential."
Blaze and Haru exchanged one last look, their expressions a mixture of determination and respect. This was it—the moment they had both been waiting for. The class held its breath as Garo signaled for them to begin.
And so, with the stage set and the crowd eager, Blaze and Haru prepared to clash, ready to prove themselves as the class’s strongest.
The air between Haru and Blaze was thick with tension as they stood opposite each other, weapons drawn. The class watched in stunned silence, their gazes fixed on the two combatants. But what surprised them most was that neither fighter seemed ready to unleash their powers just yet. Instead, they nodded at each other, a silent agreement passing between them. This first round would be about pure skill—no powers, just the raw talent and tenacity of two warriors determined to prove themselves.
Haru gripped his dual katanas with a focused intensity, his body moving with a fluidity that spoke of years of training. His stance was low, centered, every muscle coiled and ready to spring into action. Blaze, on the other hand, held his scimitar with a loose, almost casual grip, his body language aggressive and unyielding like a bulldog ready to charge. The contrast between them was striking—Haru’s movements were precise, almost like a dance, while Blaze radiated raw, unrefined power.
They began to circle each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. The class watched with bated breath, knowing that any moment could explode into action. And then, in a flash, Blaze struck first.
He lunged forward with a quick, powerful slash of his scimitar, aiming directly for Haru’s midsection. But Haru was ready. He stepped back, the blade missing him by a hair’s breadth, and immediately countered with a sweeping strike of his own. Blaze parried with a sharp clang, the force of the blow reverberating through both their weapons. The impact sent them skidding back, but neither gave an inch, immediately closing the distance again.
Haru’s movements were a marvel to behold. He danced around Blaze, his footwork intricate and precise, always staying just out of reach, yet close enough to strike at any opening. His katanas moved in perfect harmony with his body, each strike flowing seamlessly into the next. Blaze, however, was relentless. He pressed forward with a ferocity that was hard to match, his attacks fast and powerful, each one designed to overwhelm Haru’s defenses.
Blaze’s scimitar came at Haru with a flurry of strikes, each one more brutal than the last. Haru blocked and parried with expert timing, his movements smooth and calculated, but Blaze’s pressure was unrelenting. He was on Haru like a shadow, always there, always attacking, never giving him a moment to breathe. Blaze threw in powerful kicks and elbows whenever he closed in, forcing Haru to constantly stay on the move, to keep adjusting his strategy.
But Haru was no stranger to pressure. He responded with a series of graceful sidesteps, avoiding Blaze’s attacks by the narrowest of margins, his katanas flashing out in counterstrikes that forced Blaze to rethink his approach. Haru’s style was all about control—he controlled the pace, the distance, the rhythm of the fight. Every move was calculated to draw Blaze in, to bait him into overextending, but Blaze was nothing if not adaptable.
As the fight progressed, it became clear that this was more than just a clash of swords—it was a clash of philosophies. Haru’s refined, almost artistic approach to combat contrasted sharply with Blaze’s raw, instinctual fighting style. Haru moved like water, flowing around Blaze’s attacks, redirecting them, turning his opponent’s aggression against him. Blaze, on the other hand, was fire—aggressive, consuming, relentless in his pursuit of victory.
At one point, Blaze managed to close the distance enough to grab Haru by the arm, trying to pull him into a grappling exchange. But Haru was quick to react, twisting his body and using Blaze’s momentum to throw him off balance. Blaze stumbled for a split second, but that was all Haru needed. He stepped in with a knee to Blaze’s midsection, forcing the air from his lungs, and followed up with an elbow strike aimed at Blaze’s head.
Blaze ducked just in time, his scimitar swinging up in a wide arc to force Haru back. The two were locked in close combat now, exchanging knees, elbows, and kicks with the same ferocity as their sword strikes. Blaze’s raw strength was evident in every blow, each one designed to break through Haru’s defenses, but Haru’s agility and technique allowed him to stay just one step ahead.
Despite Blaze’s relentless attacks, Haru’s defense held strong. He began to see patterns in Blaze’s movements, subtle tells that hinted at his next move. Haru started to anticipate Blaze’s attacks, countering with precise strikes that slowly began to turn the tide in his favor. A slash here, a parry there, a quick step to the side to avoid a devastating blow—Haru was gradually gaining the upper hand.
Blaze, realizing that he was being outmaneuvered, tried to change tactics. He threw a feint with his scimitar, following it up with a powerful kick aimed at Haru’s legs. But Haru saw through the ruse. He sidestepped the kick and, in one fluid motion, brought both his katanas down toward Blaze’s exposed side. Blaze barely managed to bring his scimitar up in time to block, but the force of the impact drove him back several steps.
Haru pressed the advantage. He moved in with a series of rapid strikes, each one aimed at exploiting the smallest of openings. Blaze struggled to keep up, his earlier confidence waning as Haru’s relentless pressure began to wear him down. The class watched in awe as Haru’s movements became a blur of steel, his katanas a whirlwind of controlled fury.
Finally, Haru saw his opening. Blaze, in a desperate attempt to regain the upper hand, overextended on a powerful slash. Haru ducked under the blow, pivoted on his heel, and brought the hilt of one of his katanas crashing down on Blaze’s wrist. Blaze’s grip faltered, and his scimitar fell to the ground. In the same motion, Haru stepped in, crossing his katanas at Blaze’s throat, forcing him to surrender.
Blaze froze, his chest heaving with exertion, sweat dripping down his face. He looked into Haru’s eyes, seeing the determination and skill that had brought him to this point. Slowly, he nodded, acknowledging Haru’s victory.
Haru stepped back, lowering his katanas. "You fought well," he said, his voice steady despite his own exhaustion.
Blaze grinned, picking up his scimitar. "You’re not so bad yourself," he replied, a new respect in his tone. "But we’re not done yet."
Haru sheathed his katanas, stepping back to the center of the stage. "Agreed," he said. "Now, let’s see what happens when we use our full power."
The class, still reeling from the intensity of the first round, held their breath as the two warriors prepared to clash once more—this time, with everything they had.
As the two warriors prepared for the second round, the atmosphere around them seemed to thrum with energy. This time, they weren’t holding anything back. Blaze’s scimitar ignited in a blaze of fire, flames licking up the blade and swirling around him like a fiery storm. Haru, in response, allowed the wind to whip around him, his katanas glowing with a faint, ethereal light as the air itself seemed to bend to his will.
The class watched in awe as the two combatants stared each other down, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. Blaze’s fire roared to life, his entire being radiating heat and power, while Haru stood like a calm storm, his wind swirling around him in a protective barrier.
Then, in an instant, they were both in motion.
Blaze moved with blinding speed, his fire-enhanced flurries of attacks coming in faster and harder than before. Each strike was accompanied by a burst of flames, the air around him shimmering with heat as he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Haru’s wind, however, was his counter. He moved with an agility that was almost unnatural, his body twisting and turning with the wind, allowing him to evade Blaze’s fiery onslaught with a fluid grace that seemed almost effortless.
The class could barely keep up with the speed of the exchange. Blaze’s scimitar lashed out, a fiery arc cutting through the air as he aimed for Haru’s midsection. But Haru was already gone, his wind carrying him up and over Blaze’s strike, flipping in mid-air to avoid the flames and landing behind his opponent. He spun around, his katanas slashing out in a precise counterattack, the wind amplifying his speed as he aimed for Blaze’s exposed back.
Blaze anticipated the move, his instincts sharp. He whirled around, the fire around him exploding outward in a defensive burst, forcing Haru to leap back to avoid being burned. But Haru’s retreat was smooth, almost as if he had predicted the explosion. He used the wind to change direction in mid-air, landing on the opposite side of the arena and immediately launching himself back into the fray.
Their martial arts had evolved with the introduction of their powers. Blaze’s style was now faster, more explosive, every move a reflection of his fiery personality. He attacked with relentless aggression, each strike designed to overwhelm and overpower, with flames dancing along the edge of his scimitar, leaving trails of scorched earth with every missed blow. Haru, on the other hand, became even smoother and more fluid, his movements a perfect blend of Capoeira and traditional swordplay. The wind allowed him to weave in and out of Blaze’s attacks with unparalleled agility, shifting directions mid-movement or even in mid-air to avoid the fiery onslaught and counter with precise, cutting strikes.
Blaze launched a barrage of fiery slashes, each one faster than the last, creating a wall of flames that pushed Haru back. But Haru wasn’t deterred. He summoned the wind beneath him, launching himself high into the air, and then came down with a spinning slash, his katanas whistling through the air like the wind itself. Blaze barely managed to block the attack, the force of it sending him skidding back across the arena, his feet digging into the ground to keep his balance.
Their fight wasn’t confined to the ground either. Blaze, in a burst of fiery speed, used his fire to propel himself into the air, meeting Haru mid-flight. They clashed in the sky, their weapons sparking as they exchanged blows in a flurry of fire and wind. Haru used his wind to change direction in an instant, dodging Blaze’s fiery strikes and countering with rapid slashes, while Blaze’s fire enhanced his agility, allowing him to twist and turn in ways that defied gravity.
On the sidelines, their classmates watched in awe and disbelief.
“This is insane,” Angel muttered, his eyes wide as he followed the rapid movements of the two fighters. “What are they on?”
“They’re pushing each other to the limit,” Luis observed, his tone one of admiration. “Haru’s using his wind to dodge and counter, but Blaze… Blaze is relentless.”
“He’s like a force of nature,” Aurora added, her voice tinged with concern. “But so is Haru. They’re perfectly matched.”
Emma leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the fight. “Haru’s defense is impressive, but Blaze’s aggression is something else. He’s like a wildfire, always pushing forward. But Haru… Haru’s not just defending. He’s adapting, finding openings.”
Lawrence crossed his arms, his gaze focused and intense. “It’s a battle of endurance now. Haru’s conserving energy, using Blaze’s aggression against him. But how long can he keep it up?”
“Callus is still the one to beat,” Ashelyn chimed in, her voice firm. “But these two… they’re in a league of their own.”
Aslan, usually quiet, spoke up, his voice tinged with awe. “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s like they’re reading each other’s minds.”
Yue nodded, her eyes wide with amazement. “It’s like they’re in a dance, each one anticipating the other’s moves.”
Back in the arena, the fight had escalated even further. Blaze’s scimitar, wreathed in flames, clashed with Haru’s katanas, the sound of steel ringing out as they exchanged rapid strikes. Haru used his wind to propel himself forward, spinning in a graceful arc as he aimed a slash at Blaze’s side. Blaze blocked the strike with his scimitar, the force of the impact sending a shockwave through the air, but Haru didn’t relent. He followed up with a series of quick, precise strikes, each one aimed at Blaze’s defenses.
Blaze countered with a burst of fire, forcing Haru back, but Haru was ready. He used the wind to change direction in an instant, dodging the flames and closing the distance again. They were moving at such high speeds that it was almost impossible for the others to follow their movements. Each clash was a blur of steel and fire, each exchange more intense than the last.
But the fight was taking its toll. Both fighters were beginning to show signs of exhaustion. Blaze’s breathing was ragged, his movements slightly slower, but his determination burned as brightly as ever. Haru’s wind wasn’t as strong as it had been at the start, but he pushed on, knowing that he couldn’t afford to let up for even a second.
Blaze launched himself forward with a roar, his scimitar coming down in a fiery arc that Haru barely managed to deflect. The force of the blow sent Haru stumbling back, but he quickly recovered, using the wind to propel himself forward into a counterattack. His katanas moved in a blur, slicing through the air as he closed in on Blaze, but Blaze met him head-on, their weapons clashing with a deafening sound.
The class watched in stunned silence as the two fighters pushed each other to the absolute limit. Every movement, every strike, every counter was a testament to their skill and determination. They were both fighting with everything they had, neither willing to give an inch.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the two fighters broke apart, both breathing heavily as they stood on opposite sides of the arena. They were both exhausted, their bodies pushed to the brink, but neither was willing to back down. They stared at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.
This was it. The final round.
The class held their breath, knowing that the next exchange would decide the winner.
As the tension reached its peak, Blaze couldn’t hold back any longer. He looked at Haru with a fierce determination, a smirk playing on his lips. “What’s the matter, Haru? If you’re really the Thunderstorm Arknight, where’s your thunder? Don’t tell me you’re holding back!”
Haru, breathing heavily, realized that Blaze was right. He had been holding back, not fully unleashing his potential. His mind raced as he reached out within himself, feeling the presence of Seisaku deep within his spirit. *Seisaku,* he called out silently, *I need your help. I can’t win this without your power.*
Seisaku’s voice echoed in his mind, a mix of strength and caution. *You’re not ready, Haru. The power you’re trying to unleash is beyond your control right now. It could consume you.*
But Haru didn’t listen. He knew that to win this fight, he had to give everything he had. He felt the power welling up inside him, his emotions fueling the storm within. The wind around his first blade intensified, and for a brief moment, the afterimage of a Chinese dragon formed, swirling around his sword like a guardian spirit. On the other side, Blaze’s scimitar blazed with the image of a raging phoenix, its wings outstretched, ready to strike.
Blaze, seeing Haru’s resolve, shouted out, “Phoenix Blitzer!” His voice echoed across the arena, the flames around his blade roaring to life.
Haru, his heart pounding, felt the electricity surge through him, and for the first time, the lightning engulfed his second sword. The afterimage of a lightning wolf appeared beside the dragon, both spirits ready to fight alongside him. “Black and White!” Haru shouted, the power of wind and lightning converging within him.
The class held their breath, the tension palpable as the two fighters prepared for their final clash. The air was thick with energy, and everyone could feel the raw power emanating from the two young Arknights.
The dragon and the phoenix met first, their respective blades clashing with a force that shook the ground beneath them. For a moment, it seemed as though they were evenly matched, but then the phoenix began to overpower the dragon, its flames consuming the wind.
But Haru wasn’t done. With a surge of emotion, he brought down his second strike, the lightning wolf descending like thunder from above. Blaze knew there was no avoiding it; the sheer force of the strike would end the fight. But as Blaze locked eyes with Haru, he saw something unexpected—a tear falling from Haru’s left eye, the one filled with the storm.
Haru felt his emotions overwhelming him—the pain of abandonment as a child, the mistreatment from his peers, his mother’s anguish, and his own desperation. His heart quaked, and the lightning threatened to consume him entirely.
Garo, watching from the sidelines, recognized the danger immediately. If Haru struck with the full force of his power, Blaze wouldn’t just lose the fight—he would die. The class sensed it too, and Callus, ever the protector, stepped forward, manipulating the sand around them to shield his classmates from the impending destruction.
But then, to everyone’s surprise, Haru did something no one expected. As the lightning strike descended, he turned it off. The power dissipated, the dragon wheezed, overextended, and the wolf vanished into thin air. The lightning that had threatened to destroy everything around it turned into a weak gust of wind.
Blaze, sensing the sudden weakness, instinctively twisted out of the way, seizing the opportunity. With a final, decisive move, he countered, his safety blade landing squarely on Haru’s midsection. The impact sent Haru flying backward, the force of the blow knocking him out cold as he crashed to the ground.
The arena fell silent as Blaze stood alone in the center, victorious but somber. He had won the battle, but the weight of what had just transpired hung heavy in the air. Haru lay motionless on the ground, the power that had surged within him now silent, his form still.
The class stared in stunned silence, the reality of the fight settling in. Blaze, his chest heaving with exertion, looked down at Haru, a mix of respect and concern in his eyes. The battle was over, but the echoes of it would linger in everyone’s minds for a long time to come.