Meanwhile, in the stands, Akhet, sitting next to Anubis, observed the fight. "Isn't that Kasib? The young man who defeated one of the Three Beasts of Nebu?"

The Anubis responded with disinterest, "And why is that impressive?"

Akhet explained, "He did it with nothing but his raw strength. He has no Chronotex, no dark energy—just pure, physical power. There’s a rumor that his father is the son of Rahekhet."

The Anubis' eyes widened. "Rahekhet, you say? This just got interesting," he said, leaning forward to watch the fight more intently.

Back on the battlefield, Kamil joked, "I use my brain, unlike you," laughing as he dodged Kasib’s attacks. But Kasib was too fast. With a burst of speed, he lunged forward, grazing Kamil's arm with his sword before Kamil could fully dodge.

Drexel, watching from the sidelines, turned to Amon. "I heard that during the battle against the Royal Nebu, Kamil’s power protected thousands of soldiers. Without him, the Royal Army would've suffered heavy losses."

Amon nodded. "An invincible shield…"

Kairo interjected, "Almost invincible," his voice filled with arrogance, as if to remind everyone that nothing was beyond his reach.

Amon continued, "Exactly. Having someone like Kamil on the battlefield is a priceless asset for any military."

Noya, observing the fight, marvelled, "Kasib managed to land a hit, but how is he supposed to defeat Kamil’s shield?"

Setka, ever the tactician, explained, "Kamil is a lot like me. He may not be the strongest, but his intelligence on the battlefield is unmatched. His Chronotex power amplifies his strategic abilities, allowing him to control the flow of battle with precision."

As Setka spoke, Kasib rushed toward Kamil again, but this time, he stumbled as he took his first step. Kamil had placed an invisible shield near Kasib’s feet, causing him to trip.

Setka continued, "Kamil’s power is every tactician’s dream. He can manipulate the battlefield, create barriers to halt enemies, and protect his comrades without ever needing to get too close to the enemy. It's the ideal tool for minimizing casualties. But there's one major drawback."

Jack, curious, asked, "What’s the drawback?"

Setka looked over at Jack and answered, "Kamil’s power is limited by his own energy reserves and concentration. The more shields he creates, the more strain it puts on him. If his focus slips or he overextends, his defences could fail at a critical moment. His shields are strong, but they aren't limitless."

“What do you mean, General?” Ramon questioned, curious.

Setka cleared his throat and began to explain. "Kamil has one critical weakness—he needs to be able to see the location where he’s going to place his shield. His eyes must be on the exact spot. So, if he's too slow or can’t keep up, the shield simply won’t exist because he can't create it in time."

Setka continued, "Another limitation is the longevity of the shield. Once it's created, he doesn’t need to keep looking at the same location, but after a while, the shield will fade because he loses focus. It takes a tremendous amount of brainpower to maintain. And lastly, there’s a fundamental limit to how much any human can see at once—his vision is restricted just like ours."

Jack, starting to grasp the concept, added, "I get it now, General. Humans can only see about 180 degrees of their surroundings, but reality is 360 degrees. We can’t see half of what’s behind us unless we turn around. So, his ability is limited to whatever is within his line of sight."

Setka nodded. "Exactly. And in a fast-paced battle, that can be a major disadvantage."

Out of sheer frustration, Kasib shot up from his stance, moving so quickly that the dust around him erupted into the air, swirling in his wake. Kamil watched the cloud rise, confident in his next move. He’s predictable. Without hesitation, Kamil raised his hand and cast his shield, tracing the path he expected Kasib to take through the dust.

But as the cloud cleared, Kamil's eyes widened. Wrong! Kasib wasn’t on the ground at all. He had launched himself into the air, sword raised, eyes burning with determination. The audience gasped in unison, stunned by Kasib’s raw display of strength and speed.

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“Unbelievable!” someone shouted from the stands.

With only a split second to react, Kamil summoned a shield above him, but he was too late. Kasib’s sword came crashing down, slipping through the newly formed barrier. The blade lodged between Kamil’s shield and his body, barely inches away from striking flesh.

"I will win!" Kasib roared, his voice echoing across the colosseum. "I will become the greatest warrior in all the lands!"

His muscles bulged as he poured every ounce of strength into his weapon. Slowly but surely, the shield began to crack, spiderwebs of energy splintering from the point of impact. The audience held their breath. With one final, earth-shattering cry, Kasib shattered the shield into pieces, his sword slicing through Kamil’s clothes—but stopping just short of his skin, a deliberate act to avoid causing harm.

Kasib landed hard, skidding backwards from the force of his attack, his feet digging into the dirt as he struggled to stay upright. But as the dust settled, he stood tall, lifting his sword high above his head in victory.

The crowd erupted into a deafening cheer, their voices merging into a single roar. "Son of Rahekhet," The Anubis whispered, observing from the shadows, narrowed his eyes. "He will be a tough one to deal with," he muttered.

Jack, still shocked, questioned, "How did Kasib manage to break the shield?"

Setka, observing from his elevated position, answered calmly, "While Kasib was in the air, Kamil couldn't see him. His shield requires focus—he needs to see the target to create it strong enough. By losing track of Kasib’s exact position, he couldn’t form a proper defence in time. And, once the shield trapped Kasib's sword inside it, the force of Kasib’s attack easily shattered it from within. The shield was its own undoing."

The realization dawned on Jack, and others in the audience murmured in agreement, grasping the flaw in Kamil's seemingly invincible power.

Kasib, still catching his breath but smiling, slowly walked up to Kamil, offering him a hand. "You did well," he said, voice genuine despite his victory.

Kamil, acknowledging his defeat, accepted Kasib's hand with a smile of his own. “I underestimated you,” he admitted, respect evident in his tone. Kasib's strength was undeniable, and Kamil knew it was well-earned.

"Alright! Let’s begin the next fight!" Old Man Jules shouted, his voice cutting through the lingering tension of the crowd, snapping everyone’s attention back to the colosseum floor.

As Setka looked over to Yune, everyone’s eyes naturally followed, drawn to the man who now bore the weight of the military's expectations. Menes, with his deep voice, added, "Yune, you're the highest-ranked soldier of our military. Our honor and respect are on your shoulders."

Henu, always the strategist, chimed in with his own words of encouragement, "Show them who the next in line for commander of Thebes truly is."

Setka, ever the leader, stepped up to Yune, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. His voice was steady, filled with confidence. "Get out there and win, Yune."

Noya, always the playful one, gave Yune a friendly slap on the back, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Remember what you said! If you lose this, you owe me two dinners at Tarik's restaurant."

Yune, slightly annoyed at the hard pat, but unable to suppress a grin, shot back, "And don’t forget, Noya—if I win, you owe me a sword crafted by your father. And I’ll be choosing the design.”

By then, Kasib and Kamil had returned from their battle, both a little worn but still in good spirits. They, too, gave Yune a nod of encouragement. Kasib, however, lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on Yune in awe. Thoughts raced through his mind.

"Royal Guard Yune... The strongest soldier in Thebes, only beneath the commanders and generals. If I want to become the greatest warrior in Egypt, my strength must surpass his. But I've never seen him fight with all his power. Then there's the Nubian Royal Guard captain. These two are the most formidable soldiers in their lands... this fight—this is the one I need to see."

As Ru, a member of The Vanguard, glanced over at Renjiro, the leader of their group, he felt the tension rising. This moment felt different from the previous battles, one they'd been eagerly awaiting.

"Why are you so worried, Ru?" Atom, the youngest member of The Vanguard at just twelve years old, asked innocently, his curiosity evident in his wide eyes.

Before Ru could answer, Geno, another of their members, spoke up, his tone more measured. "The battles we’ve seen so far, except the first one, weren’t anything special. Just common soldiers. Even the generals, whose abilities we already know, didn’t surprise us. But soldiers like the Royal Guard captains? They’re an entirely different class. Their strength is unpredictable because we rarely encounter them in competitions like these. If we can observe and analyze their abilities now, we’ll have an advantage—counterstrategies for the future."

"Oh," Atom replied, nodding in understanding, though the weight of Geno's words still seemed distant to him.

The Vanguard, despite being a newly formed organization, was already embroiled in a fierce war with The Anubis, fighting over trade routes and control of the black market. Their strength wasn't something to be taken lightly—unlike other groups, The Vanguard’s true abilities remained hidden, shrouded in secrecy. This unpredictability made them a dangerous threat to rival organizations, many of whom couldn't anticipate their next move.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the colosseum, Isabella Rossi, a key figure in the Merchants Guild, was nervously biting her fingernails. She turned to Tarek Amunet, with a question on her lips. "Tarek, who do you think will win this?"

Tarek, arms folded, shook his head slightly. "I don't know," he replied, his voice low. "The Royal Nebu’s Thane, Osiris... we don’t know enough about his abilities. He’s not the type to reveal his hand easily."

Isabella then looked over at Maximilian Weber 2nd Commander of the Merchants Guild. His usual calm demeanor was absent—his eyes were wide, fixated on the colosseum's massive doors, his anticipation building with each second that passed. It was clear that this next battle, with the Royal Guard captains, had everyone on edge.

As the doors of the arena slowly began to creak open, the crowd hushed once again.