"The winner is Jack Orins!" the soldier announced.
The crowd erupted with cheers.
"That was a clean move!" someone shouted.
"She was tough, man..." Jack muttered under his breath, catching his breath and rubbing the bruise on his jaw.
He looked toward Lysa, who was slowly getting back on her feet.
"I didn't mean to use cheap tricks," Jack said, his voice sincere. "Whoever taught you to fight must've been an incredible warrior. I'm sorry for what I said earlier."
Lysa clenched her fists, frustration flashing in her eyes.
"Damn it..." she whispered, turning away from Jack.
She began walking toward the edge of the arena.
"He was a great fighter," she said, without looking back.
"...He's not alive anymore."
And with that, she disappeared into the crowd, her steps silent but heavy.
"I shouldn't have said that…" Jack muttered to himself, regret heavy in his voice.
He let out a quiet sigh. I should go check on Samaira, he thought, trying to shake the guilt.
As Jack made his way toward her, the sound of clashing weapons caught his attention. Samaira's match had already begun.
Jack saw Samaira completely overwhelming her opponent, Korrin.
She was relentless—charging forward with full aggression, not giving him a moment to breathe.
"Crap… she's not even stopping for a second," Korrin thought, struggling to defend himself.
Voices rose from the crowd.
"She already landed a hit at the start of the round!"
"She's a monster!"
"Even her strength is something else!"
"I need to think—fast," thought Korrin, his grip tightening around the worn handle of his wooden sword.
Samaira collided with him in a sharp, echoing clash, the wood thudding with force.
She stopped for a brief second, eyes gleaming with playful defiance.
"What's wrong? Not going to strike back?" she taunted, her tone sharp and teasing.
"Bitch, screw you!" Korrin screamed, shoving Samaira back with both hands.
He lunged toward her recklessly, fury clouding his focus.
But Samaira sidestepped with ease and struck again—her wooden sword landing clean across his ribs.
Korrin hit the ground hard, gasping.
"Hehe… another one down," Samaira said with a smirk, pointing her sword at him.
"If you don't want to get smacked again, just give up."
Korrin's eyes widened—fear flashing across his face as Samaira pointed her sword at him.
But then… he grinned.
"Not yet."
Before she could react, Korrin scooped up a handful of snow and flung it straight at her face.
The cold burst caught Samaira completely off guard, blinding her for a moment.
Korrin seized the opening and struck hard at Samaira's hands.
With a sharp cry, her wooden sword clattered to the ground.
Samaira blinked rapidly, her vision clearing — only to realize her weapon lay far out of reach.
"Tch..." she hissed under her breath, frustration burning inside her.
"What's wrong now, bitch?" Korrin sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance.
"The roles have switched now, hahahahaha!"
The crowd watched in stiff, heavy silence — the tension in the air almost unbearable.
"That bastard's completely cheating!" Jack growled, fists clenching.
"Hey," a soldier nearby muttered, glancing at Jack, "on a real battlefield, it's even dirtier than this. Pride doesn't mean a damn thing when your life's on the line."
Korrin grinned wickedly, raising his sword high.
"Now I'm gonna strike. You still have the choice to surrender, you know," he said mockingly.
Samaira narrowed her eyes, tension coiling in her muscles.
Damn it... she thought, gritting her teeth.
"I gave you enough time!" Korrin roared.
"Now let's finish this, bitch!"
He charged at her with reckless fury, his wooden sword slicing through the cold air.
Samaira snatched Korrin's wooden sword with a sharp, furious grip, her fingers digging in like claws.
The weapon jerked in her hand, but she held it firm, her eyes blazing with anger.
Korrin's face twisted in shock.
"WHAT?!"
"That's the second hit!" the soldier shouted over the rising noise of the crowd.
"One more, and she's out!"
Korrin tried to wrench the sword free, gritting his teeth.
"Let go, you crazy bitch!" he roared.
But Samaira only sneered.
With a violent yank, she dragged him closer, seized his wrist with brutal force, and slammed a savage kick straight into his knee.
"ARGHH!" Korrin howled as his leg buckled and he crashed hard onto the ground.
Before he could even think, Samaira lunged down, twisting his arm and locking him into a brutal armbar.
She wrenched his arm back, not holding anything back.
"AAAAHHH! I GIVE UP! I GIVE UPPP!!" Korrin screamed, tapping wildly against the dirt, his face twisted in pure agony.
The crowd exploded into wild shouts, stunned by Samaira's ruthless comeback.
Jack's eyes widened in pure shock.
How the hell did she pull that off? he thought, still frozen by what he had just witnessed.
"And the winner is… Samaira!" the soldier announced loudly, his voice barely rising over the roaring crowd.
Samaira threw her arms up, bursting with excitement.
"YEAH! I WON!" she shouted, jumping up and down like a child who just found treasure.
Her face lit up with pure joy.
"If only Touka, my bestie, was here…" she laughed to herself.
Meanwhile, the cart finally reached the fortress. The soldiers and Touka got out, speaking in hushed tones.
"He needs medical attention," one soldier said to the other.
The two soldiers carefully lifted Duke onto a stretcher and began to move him. Touka followed behind, her expression calm, but her eyes held no real worry.
"Don't worry, he'll be alright," the soldier who had been with her in the cart said, offering her a reassuring smile.
"I hope so," Touka murmured, though her voice lacked the sincerity to match the words.
As they made their way toward the medical room in the fortress, they finally reached their destination. The nurse immediately began tending to Duke, while Touka sat silently, her gaze fixed on the window, lost in thought.
The nurse worked quickly, and soon she finished her task.
"Hey, you're his friend, right?" the nurse asked, glancing over at Touka.
"Yes," Touka replied, her voice soft but distant.
"I've treated his wounds. It wasn't much. He's just knocked unconscious. He should regain consciousness soon."
Touka nodded. "Okay. I need to use the washroom," she said, standing up.
"Sure, go ahead," the nurse replied, unaware of the cold detachment in Touka's tone.
As Touka left Duke's room and made her way toward the washroom, she finally arrived. She glanced around before entering, finding the space empty.
She locked the door behind her, her gaze sweeping the room.
"No one's here," she muttered to herself.
She walked over to the toilet and sat down on the commode, her mind racing as she took a moment to herself.
Touka closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to relax. A spark of energy began to radiate around her, a faint shimmer of Kendra energy. She focused, her concentration deepening.
"Maunam eva shaktiḥ, chitta-saṅgatiḥ sādhanam," she whispered softly, the ancient words flowing from her lips. ("Silence is power; union of minds is the means.")
As the words left her mouth, she closed her eyes even tighter, her energy intensifying, the room seeming to hum with the quiet power she was channeling.