The dust settled for a brief moment as Alistair and Ryu locked gazes, their breath steady, their grips firm on their weapons.
Then, Ryu moved.
His violet eyes gleamed with something sharper than mere focus. Excitement.
Mana surged around him in a violent storm of power.
A sudden howl of wind tore through the battlefield as his body flickered, his speed doubling in an instant.
Wind Magic.
Not just normal enhancement—he was folding the very air around him, reducing drag, increasing acceleration.
Alistair adjusted his stance.
"Interesting," he thought, his grip on his abyssal covered sword tightening.
Then, something else shifted.
It was subtle, but he saw it—a faint distortion in the air around Ryu's back.
Telekinesis.
He wasn't just using Wind Magic—he was actively pushing himself with psychic force, propelling his movements beyond normal limits.
Alistair's lips curled.
"Clever bastard."
Before the thought even finished—
Ryu was upon him.
The first strike came at an impossible angle—faster than before, sharper.
Alistair deflected, shifting to the side as Ryu's katana carved through empty space where his ribs had been.
The next strike followed immediately.
Then another.
And another.
A continuous, blistering chain of attacks.
Their swords blurred as they clashed in rapid succession—each strike sending sparks flying, their movements too fast for the untrained eye to follow.
But Alistair was still faster.
Just barely.
Each of Ryu's cuts aimed for a weakness—an opening that shouldn't exist—but Alistair was always a fraction ahead, dodging by millimeters, countering with precision.
Steel shrieked against steel.
One slip.
One mistake.
And either of them would die.
****
Even as he parried, dodged, and countered, Alistair's mind was working.
"He's compensating for lower strength and endurance with pure speed, technique, and mana control."
It wasn't just instinct.
It was brilliance.
Ryu's movements had no wasted motion. His attacks were layered—each feint, each step, each breath calculated.
And even beyond that—
He was learning.
Alistair could see it.
Ryu was adjusting mid-fight, reading Alistair's habits, refining his attacks. Sharpening. Evolving.
Most warriors trained their whole lives for swordsmanship like this.
Ryu was doing it in real-time.
But despite all that—
Alistair was still better.
A flicker of frustration passed through Ryu's violet eyes.
Then, his smirk widened.
"Not bad." His voice was smooth, almost entertained. "But let's see if you can handle this."
His stance shifted.
A moment later—
[Hell's Waltz]
Ryu's body twisted, his katana igniting in crimson flames as he moved.
Then—
A storm of unpredictable, lightning-fast energy slashes erupted in an instant.
Twelve cuts.
Twenty-four.
Thirty-six—
A seamless, chaotic chain of energy-infused strikes, each one faster and sharper than the last.
The ground beneath them shattered from the sheer force.
Alistair didn't block with his sword.
Instead—
Black tendrils erupted from the ground, forming a dome around him.
Not just shadows—Abyssal energy, reinforced with Blood Magic.
The tendrils twisted and hardened, an unbreakable fortress absorbing the hurricane of slashes.
BOOM!
The arena shook as the storm of blades clashed against the abyssal shield.
For three full seconds—
Nothing but the sound of tearing wind and roaring fire filled the air.
Then—
Silence.
As the tendrils retracted, revealing Alistair standing untouched—
Ryu was already gone.
Alistair's eyes narrowed.
Then he felt it.
The sudden spike of bloodlust.
And the screams.
Across the battlefield—
Ryu had moved past Alistair.
And was butchering the other students.
****
A blade through the throat.
A limb severed.
A burst of wind magic launching him past defenders, weaving through their formation like a crimson wraith.
His katana sang as he cut through both Alistair's team and his own allies.
The weaker fighters never stood a chance.
Alistair turned, eyes narrowing.
"Tch."
Ryu wasn't just killing them.
He was growing stronger.
The demonic aura around him surged, his body now wreathed in a flowing cloak of blood-red flames.
The more he killed—
The stronger it became.
The stronger he became.
[Heavenly Demon's Wrath.]
A technique that fed off bloodshed—converting death into raw, violent power.
Temporary increasing his strength.
Ryu turned back toward Alistair.
Blood dripped from his blade.
His violet eyes glowed brighter, his aura radiating pure madness.
"You really are strong," he said, rolling his shoulders, his voice carrying an amused lilt.
"Looks like I have to use my full power now."
He licked the blood off his blade, sighing in pleasure.
"I was really hoping to drag this out longer…"
His grin widened.
"Guess I'll just have to kill you faster."
Ryu vanished.
Not just speed.
Pure, supernatural acceleration.
Alistair barely had time to raise his blade before Ryu was already there—his katana slamming down with monstrous force.
BOOM!
Alistair's arms buckled, the sheer impact sending him skidding backward.
He was stronger now.
Faster.
The fight had shifted.
Now—
Ryu was in control.
Alistair exhaled.
His blood was thrumming now—not with tension.
But with something else.
Excitement.
He met Ryu's violet gaze, and for the first time in this fight—
He grinned.
"Come, then."
Alistair and Ryu moved like twin specters, their forms flickering across the ruined ground.
Every clash of steel against steel sent shockwaves rippling through the air.
Alistair's abyss-coated blade met Ryu's crimson katana in a brutal contest of pure skill and raw power.
Their speed was monstrous.
Their swords moved faster than the human eye could follow, cutting through the space between them in fractions of a second.
Each parry, each strike, was calculated—the difference between life and death measured in mere inches.
But Alistair was starting to shift the battle.
Even with his demonic power surging, even with his Heavenly Demon's Wrath, Ryu was still not surpassing him.
Alistair's mastery of the blade was simply superior.
And Ryu knew it.
Which meant—he would escalate.
Alistair would, too.
Alistair's abyssal energy flared—but this time, it wasn't alone.
Emerald light surged through the ground beneath them.
The air hummed with power as the very battlefield came to life.
From every direction, thick, ironwood vines erupted from the ground—hundreds of them.
A forest of living weapons surged forth, twisting toward Ryu like a thousand spears seeking his flesh.
Some lashed like whips, others formed jagged spikes, barbed tendrils, and serrated maws that sought to devour him whole.
Alistair controlled them with absolute precision.
This was Nature Magic at its peak.
Ryu's violet eyes flickered as the deadly wall closed in from all sides.
Then, he grinned.
"Good."
Flames erupted along his katana.
Then, his body blurred.
[Hell's Waltz – Annihilation]
SLASH.
One stroke.
The first wave of vines was bisected instantly.
SLASH. SLASH. SLASH.
The next dozen fell in mere seconds, severed so fast that they didn't even realize they were cut until after Ryu had already moved on.
Then—
[Hell's Waltz – Final Cadence]
Ryu's blade disappeared.
Or rather—it moved so fast that it became a blur of crimson arcs, cutting through everything in its path.
Every vine, every branch, every living tendril—
Erased.
The entire battlefield was torn asunder in an instant.
The storm of slashes ended as suddenly as it had begun.
The massive forest of abyssal vines Alistair had summoned…
Gone.
Only the scattered remains of severed stalks remained, littering the battlefield like the corpses of fallen soldiers.
Ryu exhaled slowly, lowering his blade.
Then he looked up at Alistair with an amused smirk.
"Your Nature Magic… is far stronger than that silver-haired girl I eliminated in the last round."
TO BE CONTINUED.