Siddharth calmly drew both of his swords from their sheaths. They were identical. That could only mean—

"That’s someone else's sword—someone who's still alive," Houston’s voice sounded low and calculated in Alonso’s mind.

"Shouldn't be a major problem."

"Well, it is a problem. You've never faced anyone wielding two swords, and the only person with actual skill you've fought is Ayu. But her expertise lies in unarmed combat, and when that translates to weapons, it’s not the same. Siddharth, though... you can feel it, can't you? The air around him changed the moment he took those swords out. Be careful, Alonso. As always, try not to die."

Alonso’s gaze remained serious as he unsheathed his own sword. He hadn’t brought anything else to the match—his buckler, made from the exoskeleton of a scorpion, would likely be too fragile against a strong blow, and it somewhat impeded his flow. The same went for any upper armor. He didn’t have a material durable enough for it, so he chose to go without, prioritizing mobility instead.

Time to get serious.

Overdrive - Phase 1: 15%

His reflexes sharpened, his heartbeat quickened. Alonso could feel everything—the faint breeze, the vibrations of the ground, the subtle shifting of grains beneath his feet.

Seconds passed as they circled each other, calm but tense.

They inched closer to the other’s effective range, silently assessing the motions, the stance, the steady footwork.

But then it came.

Alonso was sure Siddharth was still out of range. He’d calculated the sword and arm length—it shouldn’t be possible yet. And still, the blade was closing in.

What?!

How was the sword so close? It was mere inches from his throat in an instant. What the hell is this?

Fuck!

Overdrive - Phase 1: 24%

Pushing his reactions to the limit, Alonso barely twisted his vulnerable neck out of the sword’s sweeping path. The blade just skimmed his skin, leaving a shallow mark—perhaps just the wind of the strike.

“What the hell was that?!”

“That… he didn’t use his arm. Just a slight movement of his wrist. And not only that—right before the strike, he took two incredibly short steps, almost sliding forward to perfectly close the maai between you,” Houston’s voice was tense, nervous, even worried. “Be careful, Alonso. This guy... is a true swordmaster.”

Alonso started sweating slightly from his forehead, his breathing growing shallow and rapid.

He couldn’t afford another close call like that.

He stared at Siddharth, who looked completely at ease, his movements fluid and controlled, as if the effort of the exchange hadn’t phased him at all. He continued circling slowly around Alonso, at a distance barely inches from each other’s range.

This sensation. Why did he feel so passive? All that had been exchanged was a single sweeping motion of a sword, yet Alonso felt like he had been on the receiving end of something far greater. He had to shake the feeling off.

Siddharth is strong, monstrously skilled, but to hell with it... I will win.

Alonso quickly closed the gap, ready to disrupt Siddharth’s flow. He committed to a diagonal slash, aiming for Siddharth's waist.

He poured strength behind the sweeping motion, twisting his body and adding all the momentum he could muster. He made sure it was a strike that couldn’t be blocked or deflected with just a single hand and sword.

But as the blade closed in, something felt wrong.

Siddharth seemed to blur, like a mirage. One second he was there, directly in Alonso’s path, but the next... it was as if he’d shifted. Just slightly, barely an inch backward. But it was enough. Alonso's blade swiped through the air, missing its mark by the smallest margin.

What the— Alonso’s mind screamed. It had felt perfect. The timing, the power, everything. And yet, it was like Siddharth had phased out of reach at the last moment, as though the space around him bent to his will.

“He... he’s messing with my perception of distance. Is it EM?”

“...No. He’s just... that good. Siddharth hasn’t emitted a single EM wave since the match started.”

WHAT?!

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Sweat began to pour down Alonso’s face, but he couldn’t afford to think. There was no time.

Before he could recover, Siddharth was already countering. His feet barely moved, but his wrists flicked, and in an instant, his blades lashed out. Two quick slashes—one aimed at Alonso’s right shoulder, the other at his left thigh.

The strikes were deceptively light, powered only by the force of Siddharth’s wrists, but that was all he needed.

True, these wrist-driven slashes carried less momentum, but they didn’t require brute force. The razor-sharp blades, combined with the fragility of the human body, made them deadly enough.

And it wasn’t just that. Siddharth wasn’t aiming to kill him outright—not yet. Both strikes were clearly aimed at non-vital areas, meant to maim, to weaken Alonso’s body so he would be easier to take down. Worse still, Siddharth had targeted both the upper and lower body at the same time, all while Alonso’s sword was still in mid-swing.

At this rate... he would die.

Overdrive - Phase 1: 32%

It was all Alonso could give. He pushed his body to its limits, forcing his muscles to react faster than they had ever before. His legs screamed in protest as he planted his feet and barely managed to shift his body just out of range. Even so, his thigh couldn’t completely escape the blade’s path, and a deep gash opened along the flesh.

Pain shot through him, but he couldn’t focus on it. He couldn’t stop.

He had to keep moving, or the next strike would be his last.

“Houston… forget about the plan we had,” Alonso panted, his breathing rapid.

Under 32% Overdrive, everything was moving in slow motion. Siddharth was steadily retrieving his swords, his face composed, but a flicker of surprise was crossing his eyes. His body was shifting with fluid precision, settling back into his stance, blades steady and ready.

The dust Alonso had kicked up was hanging in the air, every particle suspended, gently swirling as if caught in time, waiting for gravity to pull it back.

Around them, the arena was still. The rough ground beneath their feet was showing the marks of their movement, small stones scattered.

The audience was frozen, their gazes fixed on the fighters, not moving. Breaths were shallow, lingering in their throats. Small gestures—an adjusting foot, a tightened grip—were stretched out, trapped in the rhythm of the fight.

All of it was there, slow, almost still.

“We can’t afford it, Houston,” Alonso continued, his tone grim. “We underestimated Siddharth. It’s clear from these last two exchanges.”

“... It’s a shame. Pacing the gathering of data from him would’ve been invaluable. But I get it—life comes first. So go ahead, I’ll take control of the EM space and keep you in Overdrive. The only issue is, we won’t be able to communicate while I’m doing it, and you’ll end up in pretty rough shape even if you win.”

Alonso took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling steadily now. His eyes locked onto Siddharth’s.

This is it.

No more second chances.

Overdrive - Phase 1: 46%

Overdrive - Phase 2: Active

Overdrive - Phase 3: Active

EM Interference Domain: Active

----------------------------------------

Chiara was trying to keep her serious face, but it was getting really, really difficult. She didn’t like the direction the conversation had taken, especially when that fool mentioned killing Siddharth. Who did he think he was?

Even then, despite things looking grim, she hoped Siddharth might show some pity if Alonso displayed some decent skill. It was the only thing that could save that idiot now.

But as the battle began, her heart tightened. That wrist-slashing motion—it was diabolical. She could already picture Alonso’s throat bleeding out in an agonizing death just as the fight started.

She realized it right then. Siddharth was angry.

But then she was even more shocked as Alonso’s body twisted back with an unbelievable reaction.

What?! How did he do that?

From his position, it was obvious he had fallen for Siddharth’s perception trick. His natural reaction speed, with just 3.10% progress, shouldn’t have been quick enough. Did he... predict it?

Well, that was good. That was really good. Maybe Siddharth would reconsider after this.

She watched as they measured each other, but then, all of a sudden, Alonso went for the strike. His position and footwork weren’t bad, and he moved with incredible agility. She had no idea how he could be that fast, but...

He was up against Siddharth.

She shook her head, already imagining what would happen.

As Alonso’s blade drew closer, Siddharth moved back with minimal motion, just enough to avoid the slash, and then, with a twist of his wrists, he countered. But it wasn’t aimed at a vital area. Was that mercy? Or strategy? She wasn’t sure anymore. But what she was sure of was that this strike would end the duel.

But to her surprise, again, Alonso reacted. And this time, he was even faster. His leg muscles behaved like compressed springs, pushing him back at an unbelievable speed, far beyond what he should have been capable of. He felt like someone with over 6% stage progress.

Even then, his thigh was still cut. Not deep enough to be detrimental to the fight, but it wasn’t a shallow wound either.

Was this agility his confidence? Was this his hidden card?

She had a good guess about how he was doing it—after all, Alonso was certainly not the first in the Oasis to try using EM to push the body beyond its limits—but if she was right, there was a limit to how long and how far he could push it.

Using EM waves to trigger an adrenaline surge and drive the body to its limits had consequences. The further you pushed, the worse they became. But that wasn’t the real issue. The real problem was that the higher the boost, the more you relied on instincts rather than conscious thought. Eventually, you’d lose control of the EM waves entirely, unable to maintain the precision needed to maintain the state.

There was a hard limit, a line that couldn’t be crossed. She had tested it herself, and her deduction was clear—16%. That was the maximum before her control over EM started to slip.

But... Alonso seemed to be beyond that. He had to be over 25%, maybe even 30% during that last evasion. How? That shouldn’t be possible. Was there something she was missing?

As her thoughts raced, she realized the fight was continuing—but she had barely registered it.

Her eyes snapped forward, locking onto the scene in disbelief. Siddharth had just crossed his two swords to block a chop from Alonso’s blade and...

What...?

Siddharth... had been pushed back?