"Armad the dark horse will face Tyren of the rebellion in the final." Ghalee anmounced.

Some of the audience left the arena angrily but most of them stayed behind for the finale.

"If none of the participants is heavily injured we will have the final in six hours." Ghalee said.

"Tyren, do you have any injury that needs healing?" Ghalee asked.

"You can start the match anytime, I will stay here."

"You... you won't leave the ring?" Ghalee felt goosebumps creeping up his arms. Tyren was different from everyone else. He was there to represent Sauer. An extremely poor southern country in the middle of the Deui desert. Participants from such countries got eliminated early in the game. But Tyren survived. He looked calm no matter who he faced. After escaping from the Battle of the Rebellion, the world didn't even expect him to show his face for at least another decade. But he did. Somehow, both the Jinzidal Army and the First Worlders just acted as if he didn't exist. Not even a bounty.

Well, that was Tyren. When Armad was asked whether he could start the match at anytime, he shook his head.

"I need six more hours." He said. He just needed to win and save his mother; there was no need to impress anybody.

The audience booed but Armad just shrugged.

"Armad," Aish said.

"Yes, big sis?"

Aish gave him an incredulous look.

"What? You wanted me to call you 'sister'."

"Y... yeah, but must you add the 'big'? I ain't that old."

Armad laughed. She is ninety-six! I am just seventeen.

"It's not funny." She snapped, faking an angry glare. "Listen, even if you lose this match I'll make sure I talk this Babara into helping you. Just try your best but don't sweat it." She pulled the black headband on his forehead teasingly. "do you really need this? The Miyura is gone. You look like a wannabe hero."

"Remove your Salee then I'll take my headband off." Armad smiled wickedly. In Seith, all unmarried women tied their hair with a white cloth known as Salee. A woman without a Salee was married until proven otherwise.

"You are wicked. You don't want your sister to get a decent man." Aish clenched her jaw.

"Speaking of a decent man, how did a beauty like you remain single for all these years? Maybe you haven't always been single. Tell me, have you ever...?"

"Shut the hell up." She glared at him.

Up until this time, Armad had always felt that Aish was like a feeling station, ready to move out as soon as he got what he wanted. I only saved her from a force field. He thought. But people were different, some would go to any length for you once they considered you a friend. He knew not where his friendship with Aish would end up. But he considered her a true friend.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Hey, where did you get that Pharaoh? My sister used to have one before she died." Armad said.

"A topic for another time. Right now, you need to focus on your opponent."

"If you won't tell me then I'll just ask prince Niyashi."

"Haha.. go ask him. I dare you."

***

The six hours came to an end in a blink. Ghalee blew the whistle.

Armad and Tyren climbed the ring to fight in the final match. Naturally, the final would be the most exciting battle. It had the most powerful competitors who were ready to show themselves to the world. One of them would win and ultimately control the slave market of the following year?

Three minutes since the whistle was blown but none of them made a move.

Tyren looked at Armad's forehead. Armad felt his gaze pierced his body like a dagger. "What I hate the most is a coward who is ashamed of their root. Do you think I won't recognize you just because you lost your Miyura? If you are afraid to tell the world you are an Heir of Wilberforce, then you are a disgrace to magic. You are just another waste of resources; a weakling without a purpose." He lunged forward with his unsheathed sword.

Armad was shocked when Tyren easily identified his blood. That would obviously mean there were others, especially in the VIP area, who had already seen through his disguise. But now wasn't the time to dally. He parried Tyren's sword aside, adjusted the blade in his hands and launched a counter. Tyren slid his sword to the side and used the narrow window before Armad adjusted his blade to lower his stance and slash from below.

Armad used his Lightning Flash to disappear. He reappeared behind Tyren and slashed at his open back. Tyren barely dodged the point-blank attack, losing an equal amount of life energy in the process.

They exchanged a surprise look. Both were shocked at how easily their opponent dealt with their attacks.

The audience cheered wildly. That simple sword exchange was more than entertaining.

"I bet one hundred ayrid coins on Tyren."

"I bet eighty coins on Armad."

Armad maintained his impassive expression but he told Tyren his mind. "Whether or not you know my origin, it matters little. Because I'm the one who will win this Jinzidal."

Tyren smiled wickedly. He wanted to say something about Armad's last sentence but he decided to show him.

"I'll defeat you with my soul sword. I won't use my Djinn or Gift, only plain sword. My father killed the last Heir of Wilberforce, I will follow his footsteps and send you to meet your ancestors. If the Wilberforces weren't so incompetent, Ururu wouldn't have seized power."

Armad grimaced for the first time. The last Heir was actually his sister's closest friend and he heard stories about her. Elina Wilberforce, daughter of commander Irinsil Wilberforce of the Wilberforce Grand Fleet.

"Let's see how long you can keep that up." Armad said. He created five bolts of lightning and fired them.

Tyren slashed through the first bolt. His sword instantly absorbed all the energy in the bolt and the bolt dissipated. He turned to the next bolt.

The audience cheered. Even a none mage knew how difficult it was to counter an elemental power with a plain sword but Tyren did it effortlessly.

Before the cheers died down, Tyren slashed through the next bolt, and the next. He finished all the five bolts before his feet touched the ground.

Armad had forty-five remaining life energy. He created five bolts and joined them into a fifteen meter sphere of lightning. Then he lunged forward holding his sword in his right and the bolt in his left.

When he was a meter away, he punched Tyren with the bolt and at the same time slashed with his sword from the opposite side. Even Tyren couldn't block that huge bolt with just a sword. Even if he blocked it, the splashes would burn him down. A second sword appeared in his other hand which he used to slash back at Armad.

Dammit, he could even summon a second soul sword without chanting any spell or weaving any sign. Are you sure his longevity is one hundred years? Armad cursed. He had thought about that and that was why he had made the incantation for another bolt beforehand. He just summoned it to block Tyren's second sword.

So Tyren had to block two giant bolts and Armad's sword at the same time. Unless he could summon a new arm or a third sword, he couldn't possibly defend himself.