The arena was louder this time.
Minwoo's first match had turned heads. Now, every eye was locked on him. Guild leaders whispered. Sovereigns leaned forward. Even the announcer's voice carried a different weight.
The crowd stirred.
Veyra was no brute like Kael. She was a tactician—a spell dancer from the Crimson Choir, known for weaving illusions into lethal traps. Her magic didn't strike. It seduced, confused, and then killed.
Minwoo stepped into the ring, cloak trailing behind him like smoke. The Nexus Blade was sheathed. He didn't need it yet.
Veyra entered with grace, her robes flowing like water, eyes glowing violet.
The bell rang.
The Dance Begins
Veyra didn't charge. She sang.
Her voice echoed through the arena, weaving illusions into the air. The ground shimmered. Minwoo saw copies of her—ten, twenty, all circling him, whispering lies.
Minwoo didn't flinch.
He closed his eyes.
Shadow pulsed from his feet, spreading like ink. The illusions flickered. One by one, they froze—then shattered.
Veyra's real body lunged from behind, dagger aimed at his spine.
Minwoo turned.
Too fast.
The Nexus Blade slid free.
One strike.
Her dagger shattered. She flew backward, skidding across the arena floor.
The crowd gasped.
Veyra coughed, blood on her lips. But she smiled.
Minwoo lowered his blade.
Aftermath
Kinro met him at the edge of the arena, arms crossed, eyes glowing faint gold.
Minwoo didn't respond. His eyes were locked on the bracket board.
A new name had appeared.
Kinro's expression darkened. "That one's not here to win. He's here to kill."
Minwoo sheathed his blade.