A hotel close to the arena welcomed Amon and I, giving us free VIP luxurious rooms.

The receptionist wanted a picture with me, and in the matter of minutes I was already crowded by people asking me all sorts of questions.

"You've become a celebrity," Amon laughs.

"Unfortunately," I sigh, getting to my room while the security holds off the storm of paparazzi and 'fans' of Sword Saints.

After sleeping off the night here, it was time to go into the arena to meet with Cidion and allow Amon to get his duel.

He carried a smile all throughout the morning, brimming with happiness the whole day until we arrived at the arena.

"I'd mistake your childish grin for a cute kid if you didn't have those small horns," I tease.

"Hey, are you saying I'm not cute!?" he growls.

"Not with that attitude of yours," I shrug my shoulders.

Although Amon was still a child, he was someone that one could consider cute. He had soft skin, big fiery eyes and a distinct shade of blonde hair. I knew his unpolished personality, so to me he seemed a bit less appealing, but I could see how he could get what he wants with his soft looks.

-

The arena was empty, thank Heavens. Cidion organized the arena all for ourselves, putting enlightened soldiers around the perimeter so no one would infiltrate it. This was for the others' safety, as anyone could get killed from the pressure our auras will exert when fighting here.

"Oh hey kids!" Cidion waves at us innocently from the center of the arena.

I haven't been here since my last life, so I got hit with a dose of nostalgia, even though it wasn't that long ago technically.

"Have to practice before our fight?" Amon asks, "Are you that insecure of your victory?"

Amon's shit talk was met with a soft chuckle from Cidion. "A Sword Saint has to always be in top condition. You'll know that soon enough," he points at me.

"Enough chit chat, let's fight!" Amon orders while cracking his fingers.

"I'm all warmed up," Cidion nods.

The Sword Saint looks over to me. "You have to stretch before battle when you enter my age."

Ah, that's right. Even though he looks to be relatively young, he probably over a century or two under his belt.

Amon and Cidion square off against one another, standing about 30 feet from each other. Cidion raises his silver sword, infusing it with his magic.

"That's my cue!" Amon says as he bursts forward, leaving a cloud of fire behind him.

As he approaches Cidion, something interesting happens. The Sword Saint's blade lengthens and increases in with, becoming as big as Yue Zue's giant sword.

He swings the monstrosity upwards, sending a pressured air blast that cuts into the ground and hits Amon. It isn't enough to damage him, but his flaming hands are extinguished for a moment.

Cidion tilts his head to the left, then to the right. "That should do it."

Although Amon was a bit surprised by Cidion's power, he still rushed forward.

Cidion manages to slash Amon, smashing him into the air rather than cutting through.

Amon doesn't waste a single second, creating an explosion from his feet so that it propels him into the ground where Cidion is standing. Swinging his leg into an axe kick, Amon strikes the ground and shatters it, releasing a wave of hellfire in all directions.

Cidion was already out of the danger zone, leaning against the arena edge nonchalantly.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

[He's fast, even with that sword] Amon thinks.

"Increase your sword's size, Sword Saint! You won't beat me by half-assing it!"

Cidion laughs at Amon's claim. "Don't interpret my ability wrongly. The larger my sword, the less lethal and powerful my strikes are. This is a weaker state than what it was previously."

Amon growls angrily, creating two red-hot hellfire balls in his hands. He lifts his leg as he swings his hellfire ball back, pitching it towards Cidion with all of its blazing glory.

The Sword Saint waits patiently for the right opportunity, and when he sees it, he swings the flat side of his sword with an amazing force, managing to reflect the hellfireball back to Amon.

The burning teardrop strikes Amon's body, detonating in a sea of red flames, some of which reach the arena seats, melting them in seconds. Amon stands in the midst of those dancing flames, unfazed by the intense heat.

This was the moment I realized he was immune to fire magic and heat in general. You couldn't burn him no matter how hot your fire gets. Anyone can hurt themselves with their own magic, but it seems Amon is an exemption.

Cidion lessens his blade in size. "Demon kid, I'll show you what it means to be a swordmaster, but it won't be pleasant. Are you ready!?"

"Come on!" Amon yells out, putting his hands together with his arms extended in front of him.

Shit, I have to stop him from executing such a powerful move. Will this kid ever learn not to decimate an entire city while fighting?

"We can't have that," Cidion remarks as he launches himself forward, firing two stabs from a distance of about 20 feet.

Amon's palms burst with blood as two holes rupture through each hand. His spell is stopped by Cidion's wacky footsteps.

"You'll blow Holdanis into smithereens. I realize you hold immense power, but you won't achieve anything by emptying your entire manapool in my direction. I'll survive, and millions of innocent people will die."

I can't believe Amon didn't commit genocide already.

"Fine," he says compliantly, healing his hands already.

Another cloud of hellfire is left behind as Amon closes the distance between them and enters close quarters with Cidion. The latter dodges any fireblasts, punches and kicks that are sent his way, all while cutting Amon shallowly. The kid's arms, legs and chest all started to bleed, but not his head.

In a matter of minutes, Amon adapted his speed, using small, jet-propulsed blasts to aid his movements. He used his unbelievable instincts to hone his reaction time, his attacks gaining speed and precision. Cidion's cuts didn't reach Amon anymore, as his wounds healed themselves in the midst of battle.

An incredible development has occurred as Amon adapts to his opponent mid-battle, the experience lifting him onto a new level.

"What a talent," I note to myself as I watch a prodigy that will help me defeat my nemesis.

Something else has happened since our last fight in Emperia. Amon has gained about 3 bottles worth of mana, expanding his manapool. This isn't a lot considering that his manapool is at least 10 times that. However, a 10% increase from a single battle isn't even close to ordinary.

In my last life, I struggled for about 2 years before I could achieve that manapool by which he expanded his own after our fight.

Even during this one...

"You're good!" Cidion praises him while avoiding a mean flying roundhouse kick that released a fireblast which melted a hole in the seats, enough that you could see the outside from the arena.

"That firepower is amazing. You can really do some damage," Cidion praises again, looking at the 15 foot wide hole left behind after the hellfire blast.

Cidion's didn't have a primary magic affinity, or just polished it out of himself. What remained was pure sword skills and magic that is tightly tied to his weapon. He also had many protective layers which shielded him from intense heat, cold, things like poison and spirit magic as I would find out.

A direct stab pierced Amon's stomach, drawing blood to the floor.

"Ready to surrender? This isn't a fight to the death you know," Cidion chuckles.

"Mercy is for the weak," Amon says while healing himself, "And surrender for those which have no conviction!"

Amon swings his hellfire-infused hand, his manapool still not being drained. Unfortunately for him, I grab his shirt from the back, restraining him as if he's a rabid dog.

"Come on, you lost," I note while pulling him backwards.

"Not until I win!" he shouts with determination.

"You surrendered to me when we fought," I commented, turning away from him, facing Cidion from only a few feet away.

Amon just walks angrily to the seats, murmuring to himself. I still don't know why he surrendered when fighting against me. I know he almost drained his manapool, so it seemed logical, but it would be even more reasonable to give up after Cidion easily evaded all of his attacks and humbly stuck his sword into Amon's gut.

"That kid is an enigma," I shake my head.

"He sure is a bag of sunshine," Cidion laughs, looking at me directly while I stare into the floor.

Cidion's gaze wasn't strict, judgemental or prideful. He was understanding and kind-hearted, I could feel it. Just like Rache, this man carried no ill intentions.

"You have a deeper purpose," Cidion half-asks-half-notes, "Whatever it may be, I know it isn't simple or benign. A 12 year old should never be able to achieve your level of power, even if he's as talented as your foaming friend over there."

"Of course it's not..." I sulk, memories flashing before my eyes.

"If you need guidance, I'm here for that. Besides, I don't do much in my spare time except train and watch what you would consider old ladies doing pilates," he says with a smile.

"I'll pass," I exhale slightly, rejecting his tempting offer.

The reason for it is as simple as any of my other choices. I don't want to get familiar with another teacher that will serve as a father-figure that I never had, only to be slaughtered gruesomely, or his memories vanished after time reels itself back again.

"Well, you must have your reasons for it. However, will you allow me to pass on any humble skills of mine through a one time battle?" he asks while offering a handshake.

I simply extend my hand, accepting it.