The metallic clang of the arena gates slamming shut behind me echoed like thunder in my mind.
Each crash felt like it was sealing my fate.
Dust rose beneath my feet, and the harsh midday sun scorched my skin — as if the very world itself was putting me to the test.
This was it.
No mana.
No spells.
Just me... and a blade.
I swallowed hard. My throat felt like stone.
My fingers tightened around the katana's hilt — rough leather, the scent of old iron and sweat.
It trembled slightly… no, it pulsed. As if it were breathing with me. As if it shared my anxiety.
Across the arena, he emerged.
A colossus of muscle.
Two meters of raw arrogance wrapped in enchanted armor that radiated heat and death.
Crimson runes pulsed along his chest plate like demonic hearts.
And in his hands, a halberd built to crush dragons.
—"What do we have here?" he sneered, his voice deep and mocking. "The addict turned swordsman now?"
I ignored him.
Not out of pride.
Not out of courage.
But because if I answered… the rage inside me would burn out of control.
I took my stance.
Feet planted. Katana low. Eyes locked.
I wasn't a swordsman. Not really.
I had trained for a few hours, maybe a day.
But none of that mattered now. Today, I fought… or I died.
Suddenly, the arena's magical spotlights flared to life.
The roar of the crowd crushed my thoughts.
—"HEEEEEEEELLOOOOOO MY DEAR AUDIEEEEEEEEEEEEENCE!!! HOW ARE YOU DOIIIIIIING?!?!?!"
The announcer's voice bellowed like a drunken god.
The crowd went wild. A wave of voices, laughter, and shouted names.
A chill ran down my spine.
—"On one side, the challenger from the shadows! JOOOOOOOOHN!!!"
The arena exploded with applause and screams — a mixture of pity and hope.
—"And on the other side, the fearsome armor-breaker, the steel ogre — ALRIIIIIIK!!!"
The crowd jeered. Boos and laughter echoed everywhere.
Alrik raised a brow.
—"Seriously? I swear I killed the last fighter by accident..."
Great, I thought. I'm screwed.
—"LET THE BATTLE... BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGIN!!!"
He charged like lightning.
The halberd tore through the air with a thunderous roar, wreathed in explosive mana.
I rolled to the side, my heart pounding to the beat of death.
The ground behind me shattered with the impact — stone splintered like glass.
I leapt up, spinning the katana instinctively.
The blade shimmered in ethereal blue, cutting through the air and leaving sparks in its wake.
—"Pathetic!" Alrik roared.
He lunged again — the halberd now ablaze with crimson fire.
A vertical slash. A death sentence.
Impossible to block.
But I didn't block it.
I dodged — just barely.
Felt the searing mana graze my cheek like a ghostly burn.
Then — ZAAAS!
The katana struck.
It sliced through the spell as if it were fog.
The magic split in two.
It didn't explode. It didn't resist.
It simply… vanished.
Alrik stumbled back, stunned.
—"What...?"
The katana let out a faint hum — a whisper of restrained power.
It wasn't just a blade. It was a furious spirit trapped in steel.
And now… it fought with me.
Maybe… maybe I didn't need mana.
Maybe all I needed was something — or someone — that believed in me.
I charged.
One step. Two.
Sand kicked up beneath my feet.
Time slowed.
Alrik tried to raise the halberd.
Too late.
I cut through the metal.
Through his enchanted pauldron.
Through his arrogance.
The blood hit the ground first.
Then, he dropped to his knees.
—"This… shouldn't… be possible…" he stammered.
I placed the blade against his neck.
The cold steel silenced him.
—"I am the proof of the impossible."
Silence.
For a moment, the entire arena went still.
Wind whispered between the stands.
And then—
ALRIK STOOD UP!
His eyes blazed with madness. One final, desperate strike began to take shape.
Magic coiled around the broken shaft of his halberd.
I didn't hesitate.
With a swift, clean motion — I cut.
The katana shone one last time.
His head fell.
His body followed.
Blood soaked the sand.
And everything stopped.
On the edge of the battlefield, Ciny waited for me.
Her eyes met mine.
No words.
Just a nod. A quiet smile. Silent pride.
And in that instant, I understood:
It wasn't mana that defined me.
It was what I did — even without it.
I had won.
Not as a mage.
Not as a warrior.
But as myself.
With pain.
With resolve.
With a katana that, somehow, carried my soul within its blade.