Chapter 13
The launch cracked through the air like thunder.
Eclipse Drago curved left in a smooth, deliberate arc while Hayato's Bey, Raging Ifritor, burst forward in a blaze of orange sparks. The crowd reacted instantly, their voices colliding with the metallic echo of the first impact.
Metal slammed against metal.
Vibration rippled through the floor.
Ifritor pressed the attack, every strike faster and cleaner.
Drago glided along the ridge, holding its line, patient and steady.
Left spin met right spin and sparks burst like falling stars across the bowl.
Across the platform, Hayato grinned.
"Not bad. But you're way too careful."
He leaned closer to the rail, eyes bright.
Ifritor climbed high, stored pressure, then dropped straight into Drago's path.
The collision was brutal.
Drago skidded sideways, scraping the wall before recovering its balance.
Sparks hissed under the driver. The rotation held, but the speed dipped.
Ryo kept his gaze steady. Do not chase his pace. Let him come to you.
He watched the rhythm. Angle. Rebound. Acceleration.
Hayato triggered another charge. Ifritor rocketed off the ridge, frame glowing from friction, and hit dead center.
The sound cracked through the hall.
Drago lifted, skimmed the outer rim, tipped once, then spun out of bounds.
"Ring Out Finish! One point, Hayato Renji!"
The arena erupted.
Ifritor circled proudly at center while Drago rolled to rest near the wall, spin fading to silence.
Ryo crouched and lifted it with care.
Minor wear on the driver. No damage.
The metal felt warm. Alive.
Across the floor Hayato laughed.
"That's one for me. You've got skill, but you're holding back."
Ryo looked at him once, said nothing, and reset Drago.
Hayato chuckled. "Good. Don't take it easy next time."
High in the stands, Valt groaned and gripped the railing.
"No way. That hit looked perfect. How did he still lose that?"
Shu did not move. His eyes stayed on Ryo's stance.
"He launched too tight," he said.
"Too what?" Valt blinked.
"Too controlled. The motion was clean, but forced. Drago's pattern needs room to breathe."
"You can see that?"
"I can feel it," Shu answered.
Valt stared at him, baffled, then snapped his attention back to the stage.
Ryo had not flinched since the loss. He stood still, eyes on his Bey, quiet as stone.
The referee raised a hand.
"Round two. Ready."
The chanting dropped to a low pulse.
Ryo closed his eyes for a heartbeat.
The ring-out sat in his chest like weight. Not anger. Weight.
He had spent years chasing perfection and control.
Looking at Drago's golden frame, he understood something else now.
Perfection did not win battles. Connection did.
He brushed a thumb along the rim.
The metal pulsed back, warm and steady, matching his heartbeat.
You do not have to hold back, Ryo.
The voice was soft, like heat given sound.
He almost smiled. "You are really talking to me now, huh?"
A short tremor vibrated through the Bey. A spark. An answer.
"Then let's burn for real," he whispered.
Across the platform, Hayato pointed his launcher and grinned.
"Don't start daydreaming. I came here to fight."
"Then stop waiting," Ryo said.
The referee's arm cut the air.
"Three. Two. One. Let it rip!"
Both launchers snapped.
Ifritor burst forward in a wave of fire, tearing across the ridge.
Drago hit the slope, curved left, and in one smooth motion the metal plates on its frame slid outward with a sharp click.
A gasp moved through the crowd.
The sound changed at once. Deeper. Hotter. Alive.
Air cracked as Drago's speed leapt past anything seen today, a red-gold trail spilling behind it.
Valt leaned over the railing.
"Are those wings? Since when does his Bey have wings?"
Shu narrowed his eyes. "Not wings. Energy plates. Attack amplifiers. That is what he was hiding."
Down below, Drago blurred around the bowl like a comet.
Every hit carried more weight. Every rebound returned tighter.
The plates caught air and pressed each rotation into raw force.
Ryo's pulse matched the vibration in his hands.
This was no longer control. This was resonance.
Ifritor lunged again, flame trails whipping.
The first collision detonated at center in a white flash.
Shockwaves rolled through the stands.
"Whoa," Valt yelled. "That is faster than Valkyrie."
Shu leaned forward a fraction.
"Ifritor pushes again," he said, quiet and even. "It is not gaining ground. Drago is still accelerating."
"How can you tell?"
"Listen," Shu whispered. "The pitch of the spin is rising."
Valt tilted his head, trying to catch the tone. "You can hear that?"
"I can feel it."
Ifritor dived off the ridge, flames spiraling.
The sparks were so bright that the cameras lagged for a heartbeat.
Drago's orbit drew tighter and tighter until it became a burning ring of light.
Ryo's breath steadied.
"Now, Drago. Show them our fire."
A red-gold aura surged from the bowl.
Heat rippled across the floor.
For an instant a shape formed behind Drago, huge and winged, alive like breath turned to flame.
Valt grabbed Shu's sleeve. "You saw that. There is something there."
"I saw," Shu said. "And it is not just light."
Ryo raised his arm. Heartbeat and spin lined up as one.
"Eclipse Destruction."
The stadium erupted.
Drago shot up the inner wall, plates burning crimson, then dived in a perfect spiral.
Each plate cut the air with a clean thunderclap.
The spiral collapsed inward, a tunnel of red and gold that swallowed the center of the arena.
Ifritor tried to climb and meet the hit.
Too late.
Drago struck like a meteor. The impact shook the glass. Heat pushed over the first rows. Spectators shielded their eyes.
The world went white for one second.
Then came the break. Fragments skittered like embers.
When the glare cleared, Ifritor's halves spun once, twice, then fell still.
Silence.
"Burst Finish. Two points. Ryo leads, two to one."
The hall roared.
Students jumped to their feet. Banners waved.
Valt's voice cracked. "Let's go. He blew it up."
Shu finally exhaled. His shoulders eased, though his eyes did not leave the floor.
Ryo stood at the edge of the platform, steady, Drago glowing faintly in his hand.
"You are not even cheering," Valt said. "He destroyed him."
"I saw," Shu answered. "Did you notice how long Drago kept spinning afterward?"
"Yeah. It did not stop right away."
"Exactly. He did not go all out."
"You are kidding. That was not holding back."
"It was," Shu said, gaze sharpening as Ryo reset at the launch mark. "If that was not his limit, the next opponent is in trouble."
Ryo stayed by the line. He did not leave the stage.
He rolled Drago once in his palm and felt the warmth settle into a calm hum.
No fear. No doubt. Just rhythm.
Across the platform, Hayato tightened his grip on Ifritor's launcher. The grin was smaller now, but his eyes were brighter.
"One more," he said. "Let's make it real."
Ryo nodded. "One more."
The referee lifted his arm again. The crowd fell into a tense hush.
Cameras locked on. The bowl gleamed under the lights.
Ryo angled his stance. Hayato mirrored him.
Two lines of focus. One last collision waiting.
"Final round. Ready."
Ryo let out a slow breath. He felt Drago's pulse match his own.
They were not machine and blader anymore. They were one heartbeat.
"Three."
Hayato leaned in.
"Two."
Ryo's eyes did not move.
"One."
The hall held its breath.
"Let it"
To be continued in Chapter 14.