Thud.
The gate closed shut.
Number 35 stood opposite me. We were both in position.
Waiting for him to appear.
Boom.
Between the roars of the crowd came the thunder of drums.
Boom.
With the second drum, the crowd fell silent.
My gaze shifted toward the platform
And there he appeared.
A man draped in a crimson suit, with a white mask hiding his face.
The crowd erupted at his arrival.
"John! John! John!"
I didn't know who was behind that mask.
A human?
A dragonkin?
Another race?
A man or a woman?
The only thing I knew about John was that he craved attention.
And attention craved him.
The crowd grew silent as he walked toward the podium.
As always, he began with a deep bow toward us in the arena.
Not out of respect.
It was just a part of his role.
He was a showman.
No.
He was just crazy.
John straightened again and spoke, voice echoing across the arena.
"Dear guests! Today marks the day our games reach the next stage! Our little lambs have survived! They showed us their spirit and passion! From now on, we will raise the stakes!"
He paused deliberately, soaking in the attention.
"Each fighter will now receive their own rate! It will rise or fall with each battle! From now on, you may bet on your individual favorites in the duels! We wish you the best of luck in making a fortune!"
His gaze drifted back to us as he waved casually.
"As for our brave young lambs! There are new rules for the coming matches!"
He lifted one finger.
"First! There is no time limit! But don't think you can take your sweet time! We will intervene if you delay too long!"
He lifted another finger.
"Second! From today on, you may use weapons! But don't worry! Everything else is allowed as well! Bite them! Pull their hair! It doesn't matter!"
A third finger.
"And lastly! You don't have to kill each other!"
"Booo!"
The crowd voiced their displeasure immediately.
John didn't mind. He waited for a moment before continuing.
"Oh, my dear guests! I know, I know! As you can see, my lambs, the crowd loves blood! So yes—you don't have to kill your opponent! But keep this in mind! At the end of the match, the crowd will decide whether the loser lives or dies! So perform well! Your life depends on it!"
Boom.
Another drum echoed through the arena.
John spread his arms wide.
"Now let's not dwell on boring details any longer! And begin the fight! On my count!"
He raised one arm high before bringing it down.
"Blood!"
My eyes shifted to my opponent as I tightened my grip.
"NO MERCY!"
Boom.
The drums thundered, and the duel began.
Shish.
My feet shifted in the sand as my opponent moved.
Step.
He didn't attack but just took a step sideways.
Step.
I mirrored his movement as I took a step as well.
We circled each other like that, neither daring to strike first.
"Fifty on 29!"
"A hundred on 35!"
"Come on, don't just stare at each other, fight!"
"Kill him!"
The crowd's shouts cut through the tension.
We circled for a few more breaths before I decided to make the first move.
Step.
I stepped forward.
I saw 35's eyes tremble slightly.
He understood—it begins now.
Step.
I took another step forward.
Step.
And another.
Slowly.
Carefully.
I placed my feet in the sand and shifted my weight accordingly.
Step.
I was within reach now.
There was nothing to wait for.
Just like I trained.
Step.
I took a step forward and twisted my hip as I made a downward slash.
Shing.
It was a weak attack, with barely any weight behind the strike. More of probing than an actual attack.
35 lowered and turned his blade, blocking my strike.
Clang.
A basic attack.
A basic defense.
There was nothing special about it.
But it meant more than that.
It was the true beginning of our battle.
Step.
Our blades separated as I took a step back, and I raised my sword into guard again.
"What was that?!"
"My daughter's strikes are harder than that!"
"Don't waste our time!"
"Bring new fighters!"
The crowd showed their displeasure.
But—
I didn't care.
I wasn't here to entertain.
But to survive.
Haah.
I let out a breath as if to gain more resolve.
The noise faded.
My surroundings dulled.
Now it was only us.
35 and 29.
Two teens.
Two swords.
And the sand beneath our feet.
Nothing else mattered at that moment.
Mana flowed through my shoulder, down my arm, and into my fingers.
It felt warm.
Strength surged, and I gripped the sword tighter.
The enhancement happened on its own.
I hadn't consciously willed it—or even thought about it.
It simply came.
It felt like I could do anything right now.
And I knew this feeling.
This wasn't the first time I felt like that.
On Earth, athletes called it "The Zone."
A state where the body moves before the mind.
Where action flows without thought.
You won't even remember why or when you did it.
You just did.
It was a surreal feeling.
And my body moved before I even knew it.
Step.
I stepped forward and slashed horizontally at 35.
Clang!
He blocked it as he held the sword to his side, both hands trembling as he gripped the handle.
The force pushed him back, feet skidding through the sand.
And my body moved again.
Step.
Our swords parted, and I pressed forward again, stabbing straight at his heart.
Swoosh.
The tip grazed his shirt as he sidestepped.
The momentum was on my side.
I delivered attack after attack.
And he was desperately defending.
I pushed further, pulling my sword back as I stepped closer to him.
Step.
And used the sword's pull to spin, delivering a diagonal slash.
Clang!
It was heavy.
The spin added more force to the slash.
He blocked—but poorly.
His stance faltered, and he lost his balance.
Step.
I used that chance to step closer while our swords locked and shifted my weight forward as I pushed him.
His stance was wrong.
His center of gravity off.
Thud.
My push was enough to make him fall, dropping to the ground.
I didn't hesitate and moved before he could regain his bearings.
My balance was off from the push, but I used that momentum and turned it into a downward slash.
Shing.
Thud.
The sand erupted into a cloud of dust as I hit the ground.
35 had rolled to the side and used that chance to stand up again.
My shoulder throbbed from hitting the ground hard.
But pain wasn't new to me.
I lifted my sword into position again as I turned toward him.
Haah.
Haah.
His breathing was ragged.
He barely held the sword in a guarding stance, hands trembling.
His condition wasn't good.
Just a bit more.
One more push.
I just had to keep going, and I would win.
Step.
I stepped closer with that thought, ready to strike again.
But to my surprise—
He was faster.
Shing.
He delivered a horizontal slash to my right side.
Clang.
I lowered my sword to my side and supported its blade with my free hand as I blocked.
He tried to push me after the block but there was no use.
My stance was strong, feet firmly planted in the ground.
Step.
I stepped back, breaking contact, and attempted a downward slash.
And—
Shing.
He swung at the same time—a horizontal slash.
My eyes widened, but I barely reacted in time.
Step.
I took a step to the right and let my strike flow before turning the sword in my hand until the tip faced down. Then shifted it up to my shoulder as I blocked his strike.
Clang!
Haah.
I stepped back to breathe.
That was suicidal.
If we both just went with our strikes, we would both be dead.
Is he mad?
Step.
He didn't give me more time to rest and stepped closer again.
I watched his body move, but couldn't tell what his next attack would be.
His form was off, and his movements erratic.
No structure.
No technique.
Shing.
He aimed a downward slash at my chest.
I turned the sword horizontally and supported it with my free hand as I blocked his strike.
Clang.
But—
Something felt off.
There was too much weight behind the strike.
My gaze shifted toward him.
He threw his entire weight behind the strike, leaning into it.
Not caring about balance or form.
35 pushed further, forcing me to place one knee on the ground.
We stayed in that position for a breath, swords locked.
I decided to end it, shifting my blade diagonally as I turned and let his slide off. My feet moved immediately, and I rose while stepping to the side.
Step.
Thud.
With nothing to hold his weight, he crashed headfirst into the sand.
Haah.
My breathing turned ragged, but I went into position.
Haah.
He rose again, eyes never leaving me.
Haah.
He fought like a wild animal.
Prioritizing brute force over everything.
Not caring about injuries as long as his strike lands.
Haah.
I knew that it would be hard.
Techniques and form.
They won't matter if I don't have the experience to use them.
Then—
Out of nowhere.
Breaker's words resurfaced in my mind.
The second rule.
'Don't duel.'