Chapter 36 — Sylan Kyle Von Noctis vs Elias Vaughn, End
The arena shook like it was alive, the ground underfoot cracking and groaning with every hit. Swords crashed together in the middle of the ring, metal screaming against metal in a fast, brutal beat that made your ears ring. Sparks flew up like angry fireflies, lighting up the sweaty faces of the two fighters for just a second before fading out. Sylan Kyle Von Noctis and Elias Vaughn were locked in the heart of it, pushing each other right to the edge, testing who would break first.
CLANG! SKREECH! CRASH!
Each swing felt like it could end everything—one wrong move, and it was over. But they kept going, locked in this deadly dance, a soldier's grit against a prodigy knight's skill.
Sylvian's arms burned like fire, sweat soaking through his fancy dueling clothes, making them stick to his skin. Every step he took came from deep memory—the kind burned in from dodging bullets in muddy trenches, surviving surprise attacks in the dark, slogging through battlefields where one slip meant a shallow grave. His stance wasn't flashy or perfect; it was plain, no extra moves, just what worked to stay alive.
'He's quicker than anyone I've ever gone up against,' Sylan thought, his red eyes narrowing as another swing whistled past his neck, close enough to feel the wind. 'But speed doesn't win fights on its own. It's about when you move. About not giving up.'
Elias's blue-tinted sword shone like a piece of the morning sun, every hit smooth and flowing, like he was part of some big, beautiful rhythm only he could feel. But there was real power behind it too—the kind that split the stone floor with every miss, sending chips flying like shrapnel.
Elias lunged forward hard. "Let's see if you can keep up!" he called out, his voice steady but edged with that knight's fire.
Sylan twisted at the last second. "Try me," he shot back, their shoulders almost bumping as they crossed paths, close enough to smell the sweat and steel.
WHHHHSSSH!
The air ripped open from the force of Elias's swing, a sharp whoosh that kicked up dust and made a few people in the front rows duck. The nobles up high let out a gasp, hands flying to their mouths.
But Sylan was still there. Battered, breathing heavy, but standing tall.
Up on the royal balcony, where the air felt thick with all that big-shot power, the whispers started spreading like wildfire.
"No way... Vaughn's not pulling punches," one noble muttered to his neighbor, voice shaky.
"That Von Noctis kid—he's reading him like an old war dog!" another hissed back, eyes wide.
"But check Vaughn's face," a third added, leaning over. "He's... actually having fun?"
Yeah, Elias was smiling. Not that fake, polite grin you see in fancy duels, but a real, sharp one—the kind a guy gets when he finally finds someone who can keep up.
"You hold your ground well, Sylan," Elias said, his voice steady but buzzing with that excited edge, like he couldn't hide it anymore. "Most guys facing me drop after one good hit. But you..." He lifted his sword, the light catching the edge and making it glow. "You push me to be better."
Sylan let out a quick breath through his nose, his lips pulling into the smallest smirk. "Good. Last thing I want is a boring scrap."
CLANG!
The fight kicked back into gear, faster and meaner than before.
Every single eye in the place was glued to the action. You couldn't look away if you tried.
The nobles in their cushy seats leaned way forward, some going pale as ghosts, others with eyes bugging out, not sure if they should clap or run. Down below, the regular folks gripped the rails so hard their knuckles turned white, yelling and cheering like their lives depended on it. Even the royal family up top looked tense—the Emperor sitting straight as a rod, the prince with his fists balled on his knees.
Amanda Von Noctis watched from her spot like a hawk, her eyes cold and sharp enough to cut through steel. Her lips twisted down as she muttered under her breath, too low for most to hear but full of ice. "Don't choke now, Sylan. Break him. Break their precious 'Sword Saint' before he gets up."
Right next to her, Darius Von Noctis let out a laugh that hit like a cannon shot, so loud it made the people around him jump in their seats.
"THAT'S MY SON! HAHAHAHA!" His voice rolled out over the whole stadium like distant thunder, shaking the air. "LOOK AT HIM GO! UNBREAKABLE! HA!"
Amanda shot him a quick glare, full of that annoyed side-eye. "Keep it down, Darius," she snapped under her breath, but you could see her mouth twitch just a bit, like she couldn't help it.
Over by the royals, Olivia Elana Monte Blanc leaned in from her chair. Her green eyes sparkled strange, like she was seeing more than just the fight—maybe peeking into the guy's soul or something. For a split second, that odd system thing popped up in Sylvian's head again, like a quick warning light:
[Observation Detected: Olivia Elana Monte Blanc] [Classification: Heroine] [Warning: Trajectory Shift Possible]
Sylan didn't catch it—his whole world was Elias, the next swing, staying alive one more second.
Elias dropped low and swept up high, his sword cutting a bright line through the air. "You're forcing my hand—take this!"
SHHHING!
Sylan pulled back fast, his blade scraping against Elias's with a nasty grind that made your teeth hurt. His boots dug lines in the stone as he took the hit's power, sliding back but holding steady. "That all you got?" he grunted, shoving forward to push back.
"You fight like a real soldier," Elias said, keeping his cool even as he swung again, hard and fast. "No fancy steps. Every move counts."
"You're damn right," Sylan shot back, their swords jamming together, faces so close he could see the sweat drip off Elias's chin. "One slip in a real fight isn't a black eye. It's your last breath."
Elias's grin got bigger, his eyes lighting up with that knight's fire—proud, alive. "Then show me. Show me you stand next to me—not under my boot."
He broke free with a quick spin, dropping into a stance that hit like a wall of pressure. A glow started around him, gold light leaking out like the sun breaking through clouds at dawn. "This is where it gets real!"
The crowd started freaking out, murmurs turning to panic.
"He's... he's winding up for it again!" someone yelled from the stands.
"Not here—the whole place could come down!" another voice panicked.
"Radiant Severance—for real this time!" a noble shouted, half in awe, half in fear.
Elias lifted his sword straight up, the blade pulsing like it had a heartbeat. The edge blurred into pure light, spilling out in ribbons that chased away the shadows, so bright people threw up their hands to shield their eyes.
"Watch this," Elias called out, his voice booming over the whole arena, strong and clear. "Radiant Severance—no holding back!"
The air buzzed and shook. The big stone pillars wobbled. Servants down low ducked behind barriers, scared the roof might cave.
Amanda's nails dug into her chair arm, leaving marks. "This is it... He'll smash him flat," she whispered, leaning so far forward she almost tipped.
But Darius just leaned back easy, his laugh still rumbling low. "Oh? Then let's see if the kid's got my blood for real," he rumbled to no one in particular, a grin splitting his face.
The light built up huge—an executioner's sunrise, ready to wipe everything clean.
And right in the middle of all that blinding glow, Sylan... smiled. A real one, small but there.
'Terrifying? Yeah,' he thought, keeping that soldier calm like it was nothing. 'But I've stared down exploding shells. I've watched death come howling in the dark. This? Just another bad storm to weather.'
He took one slow, deep breath, letting it out steady. His hand tightened on the sword hilt, shifting just right.
Then—
WOOOMMM!
A weird ripple spread out from him, eating at the edges of the light like acid on paper. The space around him twisted like broken glass, day and night smashing together and folding in. Noises got muffled, warped, like the whole arena was getting pulled into a drain.
The crowd gasped loud. A few screamed. Others just stared, too shocked to make a sound.
"What—what the hell is that!?" a noble yelled, pointing wildly.
"I've never seen magic like it!" someone else shouted back.
"It's... it's eating the light!" a commoner cried, voice cracking.
[Skill Activated: The Void Who Devours Both Light and Darkness] [Tier: ???] [Properties: Redacted]
Sylvian's red eyes glowed through the weird mix of light and dark. His voice cut clean over the mess, low and sure: "Come on, Elias. Let's end it right."
Elias let out a roar, swinging his sword down in a full-on light storm, built to erase the world. "For the empire—for honor!"
FWOOOOOSH!
Sylan charged ahead, the black emptiness dragging behind his blade like a tear in the sky. "Not today!"
CRRRRRAAAAAAASHHHHH!
Light and dark smashed together, screaming like the sky was ripping open. Blinding white mixed with swallowing black. The whole arena bucked, stones splitting, banners tearing loose in the wind, the floor shaking like an earthquake underfoot.
BOOOOOOM!
Quiet hit after that, heavy and sudden. Dust and smoke hung thick, hiding everything in a gray fog.
When it cleared slow—
Sylan was there, his sword tip resting light against Elias's shoulder. Elias's blade stuck deep in the stone next to them, the glow dying out to nothing, just plain metal now.
The fight was done.
Sylan pulled his sword back, chest rising and falling fast but head high. "Good scrap, Elias."
Elias's eyes went wide for a beat, then softened up. He nodded slow, a real smile breaking through, even with the loss. "Yeah... good scrap. I, Elias Vaughn—the guy who's supposed to be the next Sword Saint—say Sylan Kyle Von Noctis is my toughest rival... and my equal."
The crowd lost it.
Cheers mixed with shouts, some people even crying from the thrill. Nobles argued loud in their seats, shocked out of their minds. Regular folks screamed Sylvian's name till their throats hurt, and up top, the royals swapped looks like they'd just seen the future change.
On the balcony, Darius threw his head back and laughed so hard it felt like the walls were laughing with him. "HAHAHAHA! YOU SEE THAT!? MY SON! MY BLOOD! HAHAHA!"
Amanda crossed her arms tight, letting out a sharp "Hmph. It'll do. Barely." But her fists stayed balled up, giving away the mix of mad and proud swirling inside.
Down below, Olivia Elana Monte Blanc stood up full from her chair, her eyes stuck on Sylan like magnets. Her smile was small, hard to read—maybe impressed, maybe something else.
That system thing flickered one last time in Sylvian's view:
[Trajectory Alteration Confirmed.] [Path Divergence: Unstable.]
Sylan pushed it aside. He turned away from Elias, from the wild crowd, red eyes steady and clear.
The duel was won. The big moment was over. But the real fight... that was just getting started.