In the Halo box, William smiled, small and sharp. "There you are."
General Rage grunted. "Finally worth watching."
Lancaster felt it as a pressure. The boy in front of him seemed darker at the edges, outline fraying into shadow. Yori Oni's hilt looked very old and very sharp.
Finn licked Rin's blood off his thumb. His grin still bright. His eyes not as relaxed.
"Good," he said. "Show me."
Rin's voice was low, almost calm.
"You wanted serious." His thumb clicked Yori Oni's guard. "I'll beat that name out of you."
He stepped.
Stone cracked under the first footfall.
Shattered under the second.
Petal Draw.
Yori Oni left the sheath in a whisper, black steel and shadow edge. Rin flashed across the distance on the blooming petals, coat snapping, eyes red.
Arthur's Bane dropped to meet him.
CLAAAANG—
The impact blew dust out in a ring. Tile sagged under their boots. Sparks fountained between blades, spitting across both faces.
Lancaster shoved, wind wrapping his shoulders. Yori Oni slid down the claymore's edge, Rin's wrist rolling.
Finn snapped a knee up, Martial Muti clean.
It hammered Rin's side right on the fresh wound.
Pain flared white. The lotus drank it. Rin didn't give ground.
He answered with his forehead.
Skull to nose.
CRACK.
Finn reeled, blood geysering from his already crooked nose, eyes flooding. His balance rocked.
Rin stepped with him.
Off-hand shot up, elbow spearing for the chin.
Wind kicked at Finn's boots—tiny burst—to spoil the angle. The elbow clipped cheek instead, splitting skin. He rolled his head with it and hammered Arthur's Bane down in a chopping arc.
Rin caught it on Yori Oni's spine. Arms shook. The impact carved a fresh crater into the already broken deck, stone collapsing another handspan.
They broke the bind at the same time.
Finn recovered first.
「颶風連牙」 Gufū Renga — Cyclone Twin Fangs.
Claymore flashed twice—rib line, throat line—each swing dragging a screaming gust. When they missed, edges carved trenches into the floor, Chun tiles and Britannian cobble ripping up in sprays.
The first Fang skimmed Yori Oni, sparks exploding.
The second kissed Rin's shoulder—cloth, skin, and a slice of muscle parting. Another spray of red.
He stepped in anyway.
Silence Break.
Yori Oni flicked—a nothing cut, just a scratch across the air—but sound in Finn's head dropped to zero for half a beat. Timing shattered.
His third strike slowed a fraction.
Rin slipped inside it.
Darkpoint.
Fingers drove thumb-deep into the nerve at the inside of Finn's thigh.
His leg buckled. Wind flared to keep him upright, but stance went sloppy for that instant.
Rin's knee came up, sharp as a spear, and sank into ribs.
Finn's breath barked out in a red spray. He retaliated on instinct—pommel smash across Rin's brow.
Bone met bone. Skin split. Blood poured into Rin's eye, half-blinding him.
They staggered apart, both panting, both bleeding.
Rin: back, shoulder, brow, side. Coat sliced open, skin slick.
Finn: nose, cheek, ribs, thigh. White cloak spattered red.
The arena howled.
"MORE!"
"DON'T RUN, BRITANNIA!"
"BLEED, BLACK CLAN!"
Lancaster sucked air, chest burning, Claymore resting across his shoulders for a heartbeat.
He smiled, red teeth. "You do bleed pretty, I'll give you that."
Rin wiped blood out of his eye with his wrist. "Counting," he said.
"Counting what?"
"Openings."
Lancaster's grin twitched.
Then he moved.
「音速の遊騎士」 Onsoku no Yūkishi — Sonic Free Knight.
Wind exploded at his calves. To most of the bowl, he vanished, the only sign a string of cracked tiles and a boom that hit a moment after he'd moved.
To Rin, the red threads just brightened.
He turned with them.
Arthur's Bane dropped out of the blur, angled for his neck.
Yori Oni was already there, meeting it in a shower of sparks.
CLASH—CLASH—CLASH—
They went from zero to full flurry—steel blurring, cloaks whipping, feet skidding, then lifting as they used walls and fallen stone as platforms.
Rin rode a broken pillar up, boots striking stone, then kicked off. Lancaster followed, wind under his soles, Arthur's Bane cleaving arcs that shaved chunks off the Chun-side columns.
They crossed in midair.
Yori Oni scratched a red line across Finn's bicep. Arthur's Bane ripped another groove along Rin's ribs. Both grunted.
They hit opposite walls—the Chun temple side and the Britannian townhouse.
Ran.
Shing—shing—shing— steel sparking as they sprinted sideways, boots punching dents into stone, each step leaving fractures.
They met at the seam, midair.
Blades collided overhead.
The shock bounced them back—both lost grips.
Yori Oni and Arthur's Bane spun between them, crossing two bright arcs.
The crowd held its breath.
They both jumped.
Cloak and coat flared. Hands snatched steel.
Rin came down with Arthur's Bane.
Lancaster landed with Yori Oni.
Magnara detonated.
"WHAT?!"
"HE STOLE THE CLAYMORE—?!"
In the Halo box, Kai was on his feet. "He did it mid-air that time!"
William's grin was open now. "And gave him a lighter knife. Smart."
General Rage just snorted. "Keep watching."
Arthur's Bane felt wrong in Rin's grip—heavy, front-loaded, wind still ghosting the fuller—but he didn't need to be perfect with it.
He swung.
The claymore howled through space.
Finn ducked, barely—hair shaving off in a golden puff. The missed cut erased half a Britannian facade behind him. Stone wall, banner, and balcony rail sheared in a straight line; the top half of the building slid, paused, then crashed down in a thunderstorm of rock and dust.
The shockwave shoved both of them, boots scraping.
Gasps. Cheers.
Yori Oni felt too easy in Lancaster's hand—short, eager, shadow cool along the grip. He flipped it into a reverse hold, lips curling.
He vanished into the falling dust.
Rin's Viatra watched the threads.
He raised Arthur's Bane like a shield.
Yori Oni's edge kissed his ribs on the far side, just under the guard.
Not deep—but deep enough. A new hot line. More blood.
Finn fell past him into a roll, cloak taking some stone chips, then came out of it already slicing. Yori Oni drew a shallow smile along Rin's forearm—skin, not tendon.
Rin didn't flinch.
He stepped into Finn's space, massive claymore between them like a wall.
Pommel drove into Finn's jaw. Teeth clicked. A back-kick to the knee followed—Martial Muti clean, heel slamming into the nerve line.
Finn's leg buckled a step.
He stabbed back blind with Yori Oni.
The point caught Rin in the shoulder meat. Another sting. Another wet spill.
They both let go.
Sword swap broke. Steel spun.
Third time, they didn't leave it to chance.
Rin's hand closed around Yori Oni as if it never left.
Wind curled around Arthur's Bane as Finn reclaimed it, exhale tight.
They backed off one pace. Just one.
Blood dripped off both blades.
The black lotus under Rin's boots spun faster, glowing at the edges.
"Okay," Finn panted, chest heaving. "Okay. You're... fun."
Rin's voice stayed flat. "You talk too much."
He lifted Yori Oni.
Aura spilled along the edge, a dark sheen that ate light instead of reflecting it.
No element. No extra spoke.
Just pressure.
Aura Lacing — Shadow Sheath.
The air around the blade bent, a faint heat-haze inversion.
Finn saw it and his jaw tightened. "Tch. Blades aren't supposed to look like that."
He answered with wind.
Arthur's Bane hummed as air wrapped the steel, forming a thin, invisible second edge that made the banner above them snap and shred just from being near it.
Low Form Wind Lacing — Kaze no Kake.
The bowl felt the shift.
Two blades. Both laced. One with stolen air, one with shadow.
Lancaster moved first.
Onsoku no Yūkishi again—boots cracking stone.
To the crowd, it was a blur of white and gold.
To Rin's Viatra, it was a map.
He met him.
Their first clash didn't just spark—it detonated.
KRA-KOOM—
Shadow and wind tore a shock ring out from the impact, lifting dust, pebbles, and loose tiles into the air. Front-row spectators flinched as the arena barrier flared.
Arthur's Bane carved a groove through the floor where Rin's ankle had been a frame ago. The missed stroke turned Chun tile and Britannian stone into a fused, molten streak before it cooled.
Yori Oni's counter carved a shallow cut down Finn's chestplate, actually biting metal this time. A red line appeared under the split as blood seeped through.
Finn hissed. Smiled wider.
"Beautiful."
They traded.
Fast.
Close.
Yori Oni slashed for the wrist, then rolled to the elbow. Finn twisted; the first cut missed, the second landed, a shallow red bite that made his fingers jolt. He answered with a shoulder slam that sent Rin sliding half a step.
Rin let the slide happen.
Hollow Line—he cut through an opening in Finn's guard, a line that didn't exist until he drew it. Shadow Sheath bit into thigh, shallow but mean.
Finn's eyes flashed. "Tch."
Arthur's Bane came up in a tight arc, catching Yori Oni and shoving it high. Finn stepped in and drove his forehead into Rin's already-split brow.
More blood. Vision hazed red.
Rin's knee answered—up and in. Ribs again. Finn's breath wheezed.
They kicked apart.
The next volley, the bowl lost.
To most people, it became flashes of steel, flares of shadow and compressed wind, and a rain of debris.
A Chun lantern post detonated into splinters when a missed cut caught it.
A Britannian chapel window blew out, stained glass showering down in glitter as a shockwave ballooned through it.
Pillars cracked and toppled. The seam floor collapsed another half level in a long trench.
Only the top-tier Seekers could actually track the movements.
Kai's eyes were wide, pupils tight. "They're—"
"Fast," William finished, voice low and pleased.
Aria whistled under her breath. "Look at him go..."
Back on the deck:
Finn tried to bully through.
Stomp, shoulder, elbow, claymore—everything backed by wind and Soul Bloom endurance.
Rin's body screamed—back a blaze, shoulder and hip wet, every breath sawing through bruised ribs.
Viatra didn't care.
Darkpoint String.
A tap on wrist.
Later, another on elbow.
Another on thigh.
Each one on a beat, inside the storm.
Nerves started to misfire.
Arthur's Bane came a hair late. Or a hair wide. Just enough.
Yori Oni slipped under the guard and nicked Finn's jaw. Blood ran down his neck.
Rin didn't smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Finn saw it. Pressed harder.
He flickered out of a bind, boots punching chips of stone, and came in with a desperate three-beat:
Horizontal to gut, vertical to crown, thrust to heart.
Rin caught the first on Yori Oni's flat. Sparks sprayed over both their faces.
He slipped his head off the line of the second; it took a chunk of his coat collar instead of his skull.
The thrust came—
—Static Sink in shadow form drank a sliver of momentum from the floor.
The point slowed just enough.
Rin twisted, the thrust skimming ribs, carving a shallow, fourth groove instead of opening him up.
He let the pain roll over him.
Then he stepped in, inside the guard, and drove the butt of Yori Oni's hilt up under Finn's chin.
The knight's head snapped back.
Rin followed with a short, brutal knee between the plates. The armor creaked. Finn folded over it with a strangled sound, air leaving him in a rush.
They locked there for a second—forearms grinding, shoulders shaking, blades half-trapped between bodies.
Both bleeding. Both slick. Both refusing to fall.
Around them, the arena looked like a war zone—half a fake city smashed into a crater.
The crowd was one long, rising scream.
Rin's voice threaded into Finn's ear, quiet and hot.
"Still think the black clan is weak?"
Finn coughed a laugh, red on his teeth. "If I do... you're the only exception."
He shoved off, wind blasting from his shoulders to break the clinch.
They separated a few paces, swaying, swords still up.
Rin's side burned. Blood dripped steadily down his back and leg, pattering into the fractured stone. His vision pulsed at the edges.
Lancaster's arm shook around Arthur's Bane's grip. Darkpoint's work. Red streamed from nose, jaw, bicep, chest, thigh.
They stared across the wreckage at each other.
The Magnara roar climbed toward something new.
And Rin lifted Yori Oni, shadow still laced along the edge.
"Round two," he said.