The command "COLLAPSE" slammed into Lira's mind like a physical hammer, but the A-Rank Saint did not fall.
Her eyes rolled back, veins bulging on her forehead as her immense mana pool surged to protect her psyche. She was a Pillar of Syrius. She was an A-Rank. A C-Rank's will could not simply switch her off.
"I... refuse!" Lira screamed, blood leaking from her nose.
She didn't have control over her body anymore, but her mana responded to her distress. It exploded outward in a chaotic, defensive frenzy.
[Skill: Elemental Union — Cataclysm]
The air inside the stone fortress turned into a blender.
The water vapor in the air condensed instantly—not into droplets, but into thousands of needle-thin ice swords. The ground beneath Eren's feet groaned and splintered, shooting up jagged spikes of earth. The wind howled, turning into razor blades that slashed from every direction.
It was a storm of pure destruction, confined within a twenty-meter radius.
Eren couldn't dodge. There was nowhere to go.
SLASH. CUT. PIERCE.
The ice swords tore through his leather armor. The wind flayed his skin. A spike of earth drove through his thigh.
Eren screamed, but he did not close his eyes.
Blood poured down his face, blinding him, but he forced his eyelids open with sheer, manic willpower. If he blinked, the connection would break, and she would kill him. If he looked away, he lost.
'One minute,' Eren thought, his mind fracturing under the pressure. 'Just hold it for one minute!'
He stood in the center of the shredding storm, a statue of bloody determination. Lira was screaming, clutching her head, trying to cast a counter-spell, but Eren's will was a virus in her brain, overriding every command she tried to send to her limbs.
The crowd watched in horrified silence. It wasn't a fight anymore; it was an execution of endurance.
Forty seconds. Eren's left arm hung uselessly, shredded by wind blades.
Fifty seconds. Lira fell to her knees, drooling, her eyes losing focus.
Sixty seconds.
"COLLAPSE!" Eren roared one last time, spitting a mouthful of blood at her.
Lira's resistance shattered. The light in her staff died. The ice swords dissolved into water. The wind stopped.
The A-Rank Saint slumped forward, face-planting into the sand, unconscious.
But Eren didn't celebrate. The moment the adrenaline faded, the damage hit him. He swayed, his eyes rolling back, and crashed to the ground next to her.
The stadium was dead silent. Both fighters were down.
"Double knockout?" the announcer whispered.
The referee rushed in, checking pulses. "Both combatants are unresponsive! Initiate the count! If neither rises in three minutes, it is a draw!"
The magical clock above the stadium began to tick.
[01:00]
Neither moved. Lira was in a magical coma. Eren was bleeding out from a dozen wounds.
[02:00]
The crowd began to murmur. A draw? After all that?
[02:30]
Ren, watching from the tunnel, narrowed his eyes. 'Get up, Eren. You didn't break your bones just to tie.'
[02:38]
A hand twitched in the bloody sand.
Eren groaned. It was a sound of pure agony. He dug his fingers into the dirt. He didn't use his legs; they were useless. He dragged himself up using his arms, his body shaking violently.
He pushed. He screamed. And he stood.
He swayed on his feet, looking like a corpse that refused to stay buried. He raised one trembling hand toward the sky.
"Winner..." the referee shouted, his voice cracking with disbelief. "EREN!"
The crowd erupted. It was a roar of shock and respect.
Eren didn't hear it. Fifteen seconds later, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed again. This time, he didn't wake up.
Healers swarmed the field, loading both the Saint and the Tyrant onto stretchers. They were rushed to the intensive care wing.
High above in the VIP box, shielded by sound-dampening glass, Lord Zilton watched the healers carry Eren away. His face was a mask of cold fury.
"Useless," Zilton spat. "Lira let her guard down. She allowed a commoner to humiliate the nobility."
A shadow detached itself from the wall behind him. It was Kage, the Shadow Monarch. The A-Rank assassin wore robes of shifting darkness, his face obscured by a cowl.
"She underestimated his will," Kage said, his voice a dry rasp. "It won't happen again."
Zilton turned to the assassin. He didn't look at him with the respect due a Hero. He looked at him with the expectation of a father looking at a son.
"It better not," Zilton hissed. "The next match is in two days. You are fighting Ren."
Kage remained silent.
"Do not fail me, my son," Zilton whispered, stepping closer. "Only the King and I know your true lineage. You are my blood. You are the Shadow Monarch. That boy... that 'Dragon Slayer'... he humiliated me. He stole from me. I want you to end him."
Zilton placed a hand on Kage's shoulder. "Don't just win. Break him. Prove that our bloodline is superior to some lucky stray from the forest."
Kage bowed his head. "As you command, Father. The Dragon Slayer will not leave the arena."
The Next Day: The Capital Streets
The city of Syrius was buzzing. The two-day break between matches had turned the capital into a cauldron of gossip and speculation.
In the Golden Flagon, a popular tavern in the merchant district, the tables were packed.
"Did you see the Gaze Tyrant?" a blacksmith shouted, slamming his mug down. "He took a 'Union' spell to the face and kept staring! That kid is a demon!"
"Lira went easy on him," a merchant argued. "If she had used her Ultimate at the start, he would be ash. But still... a C-Rank beating an A-Rank? The betting houses are in chaos."
"Who cares about the eye-freak?" a mercenary laughed. "The real show is in two days. Ren vs. Kage."
The table went quiet.
"I heard Ren killed a Dragon solo," a young barmaid whispered. "They say he moves so fast you can't see him."
"Bah, propaganda," the mercenary scoffed. "The King just wants a hero to show off. But Kage? Kage is the Royal Assassin. He's an A-Rank Shadow Monarch. He's been killing people since he was twelve. Ren is just a kid with a fancy dagger."
"I don't know," the blacksmith mused. "Ren has that... look. The look of someone who's seen hell. I put fifty Yen on the Dragon Slayer."
"You're throwing your money away," the merchant said. "Kage is going to eat him alive."
Academy Hostel: Ren's Room
The sun was setting, casting long orange shadows across Ren's room.
Ren sat at his desk, the sounds of the city drifting in through the window. He had spent the day training Erna in the "Mobile Mansion" (which he had cleverly hidden inside a rented warehouse in the lower district to satisfy the Administrator's task).
He was tired. His muscles ached from sparring with his own summon.
He pulled out his leather notebook. He flipped past the pages on Valerius, Marcus, Lira, and Eren. He stopped at a blank page.
He dipped his quill and wrote a single name.
[Target: Kage (Shadow Monarch)]
Ren tapped the quill against his chin. He had seen Kage in the stadium. The man hovered. He didn't walk. His aura was suppressed, almost invisible.
'An Assassin vs. an Assassin,' Ren thought. 'He's A-Rank. He likely has stealth detection, shadow manipulation, and instant-kill skills. If I try to out-stealth him, I lose. He has more experience.'
Ren wrote down a single observation.
Observation: He is confident in the dark. He thinks the shadows belong to him.
Strategy: Don't fight him in the dark. Bring the light. Or... show him a shadow deeper than his own.
Ren glanced at Erna, who was sleeping on the rug, his tail twitching.
"Two days," Ren whispered.
He closed the book and extinguished the lamp. The darkness of the room rushed in.
Somewhere in the city, Kage was likely sharpening his blades. Somewhere in the palace, Zilton was smiling.
Ren closed his eyes. Let them plan. He had a Glitch.