The announcer’s voice rose again, this time with a hint of dramatic flair. “And now, his opponent! Representing the esteemed Silver Flame Sect, Joel Rythan!”
A roar erupted from the crowd as Joel stepped into the arena. A tall, broad-shouldered man with fiery red hair and a confident smirk, Joel exuded raw power. His silver and red robes, embroidered with the flame emblem of his sect, caught the light as he raised his sword—a massive greatsword wreathed in faint, flickering flames—earning another wave of cheers from the audience.
Unlike Lucavion, Joel played to the crowd, basking in their adoration as he made his way to the center of the arena. His presence was loud, commanding, and brimming with confidence.
But when his eyes finally met Lucavion’s, his smirk faltered, just for a moment. There was something in Lucavion’s steady, unyielding gaze that unsettled him—a calmness that spoke of absolute control as if Lucavion was already a step ahead.
The announcer, sensing the tension, raised his voice to a crescendo. “The Phantom Blade versus the Inferno Titan! A clash of styles, of power and precision! Let the final match of the day… begin!”
The crowd erupted into cheers as the two fighters faced off. Lucavion’s hand rested lightly on the hilt of his estoc, his stance relaxed but perfectly balanced. Across from him, Joel planted his greatsword into the ground with a flourish, the flames along its edge flickering and growing brighter as he infused it with mana.
Joel grinned, his voice carrying across the arena. “You’ve made it far for someone unaffiliated. I’ll give you that. But this is where your luck runs out.”
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Luck?” he echoed, his tone calm and measured. “You’ll find I don’t rely on something as fleeting as that.”
The air between them grew heavy as they prepared to engage, the weight of the match pressing down on the arena. The crowd leaned forward in anticipation, eager to see how this battle of opposites would unfold.
The arena was alive with anticipation, the crowd’s energy reaching a fever pitch as the announcer began the countdown.
“Five…”
Lucavion stood motionless, his estoc raised and steady. His eyes remained locked on Joel, his expression calm but focused. A faint shadowy aura began to swirl around him, dark and intangible, as if the very air around him was bending to his presence.
“Four…”
Across from him, Joel shifted his stance, flames licking at his fists and trailing along his greatsword. His fiery aura flared brighter with each passing moment, the mana coursing through his body creating waves of heat that rippled outward. His eyes burned with determination, his teeth clenched in a grimace of both focus and disdain.
“Three…”
‘This is my chance,’
Joel thought, his muscles tensing as he prepared to launch forward. His dislike for Lucavion simmered just below the surface. From the start, Joel had found the way Lucavion fought infuriatingly. The calm, almost mocking demeanor, the way he got under people’s skin—it was everything Joel despised.
“Two…”
To Joel, talent like Lucavion’s didn’t excuse his attitude. And he had made up his mind—he would be the one to eliminate this irritating enigma, this Phantom Blade who seemed to revel in provoking everyone around him.
“One…”
The moment the announcer reached zero, Joel blasted forward like a missile, his flames roaring to life around him. The fiery mana surged through his body, propelling him at an incredible speed as he closed the gap between them. His greatsword, wreathed in swirling flames, was ready to strike, and his fists burned with an intensity that could melt steel.
SWOOSH!
Lucavion didn’t flinch. His blade remained raised, his body enveloped in the faint, shadowy aura that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his calm breaths. The dark energy cloaked him, its presence subtle but menacing, contrasting sharply with Joel’s explosive flames.
The crowd roared as the clash began, Joel’s fiery charge bearing down on Lucavion like an unstoppable force. But Lucavion’s eyes gleamed, unshaken by the inferno rushing toward him.
The fight was on.
*******
The fight exploded into motion as Joel’s fiery charge collided with Lucavion’s poised defense. The arena seemed to shimmer with the heat of Joel’s flames, the fiery mana enveloping him surging outward like a living inferno.
His 4-star aura radiated power, and the flames around him danced with a deadly precision that reflected his will. He wasted no time, pressing Lucavion with relentless, blazing strikes.
Lucavion met the assault head-on, his estoc moving with no wasted movement. Each clash of their weapons sent sparks flying, Joel’s greatsword’s fiery edge crackling against the cold, shadowy aura that surrounded Lucavion.
CLANG! WHOOSH!
Joel’s blade swung in a wide arc, flames trailing behind it in a searing crescent. Lucavion stepped back just enough to avoid the edge of the strike, his body shifting fluidly to reposition. But Joel pressed forward, his flames expanding around him like a second weapon, reaching for Lucavion even when his blade didn’t.
“You’re not escaping this time!” Joel roared, his voice filled with fiery determination. The flames around him surged forward in a controlled blast, aiming to engulf Lucavion entirely.
Lucavion’s shadowy aura rippled in response, his estoc slicing through the incoming flames with an almost casual efficiency.
His movements were calm, and calculated, as if he were a shadow gliding through Joel’s inferno. Each step was deliberate, his blade weaving through the chaos with a grace that defied the overwhelming power of Joel’s attack.
Joel’s brow furrowed as he intensified his assault. He knew he lacked the refinement of a swordsman’s intent, but he compensated with his unparalleled control over his flames. The fiery tendrils around him twisted and turned, striking at Lucavion from multiple angles. His greatsword came down with a thunderous crash, flames bursting outward in an attempt to overwhelm his opponent.
But Lucavion remained unshaken. He parried the greatsword’s heavy strikes with precision, his estoc deflecting the force of the blows while his shadowy aura absorbed the heat and dissipated the flames that threatened to overwhelm him.
‘His control is good,’
Lucavion mused inwardly, his sharp eyes analyzing Joel’s movements.
‘But he’s overreaching… relying too much on the flames to compensate for the gaps in his swordsmanship.’
Joel’s attacks were powerful, relentless, and well-coordinated, but they lacked the finesse of a true swordsman. His 4-star aura blazed brightly, and his flames moved as if they were an extension of his body, but Lucavion could see the flaws—the moments where Joel’s reliance on sheer force and flame manipulation left him vulnerable.
“You’re persistent,” Lucavion said calmly, sidestepping another fiery slash and countering with a quick thrust of his estoc that forced Joel to retreat. “But raw power without control will only take you so far.”
Joel growled, his frustration evident. “And yet, I’m still standing!” He swung his greatsword in a sweeping arc, flames erupting outward in a wide wave that threatened to consume the entire space between them.
Discover stories with
Lucavion’s shadowy aura flared slightly, and with a quick step forward, he sliced through the incoming flames, dissipating them in an instant. His movements were efficient, each strike of his blade perfectly timed to neutralize Joel’s fiery assault.
The crowd watched in awe as the clash unfolded, the stark contrast between Joel’s aggressive, flame-infused attacks and Lucavion’s calm, precise defense creating a spectacle that left them on the edge of their seats.
Despite Joel’s overwhelming presence, it was Lucavion’s measured movements and unshakable composure that dominated the flow of the battle.
Joel gritted his teeth, the flames around him intensifying as he tried to break through Lucavion’s defenses. But no matter how much power he poured into his strikes, no matter how skillfully he manipulated his flames, he couldn’t land a decisive blow.
“You’re infuriating!” Joel shouted, his flames roaring higher as he swung his greatsword with all his might.
Lucavion’s smirk widened as he sidestepped yet again, his estoc gliding through the air to deflect Joel’s blade. “And you’re predictable,” he replied, his tone cool and cutting.
SWOOSH! SWOOSH!
Lucavion moved like a shadow through the battlefield, his feet gliding effortlessly across the ground as he stayed just outside Joel’s range. He didn’t merely defend or block; he danced around Joel’s attacks, weaving through the fiery onslaught with an elegance that left the crowd breathless.
SWOOSH! CLANG!
Joel’s greatsword roared through the air, flames trailing behind each strike, but Lucavion was already gone by the time the blade reached its mark. He sidestepped, ducked, pivoted—his movements were as precise as they were fluid. His estoc darted in and out like a serpent’s fang, each quick thrust targeting small openings in Joel’s guard.
STAB!
Lucavion’s blade found Joel’s side, a shallow but well-placed cut that forced Joel to recoil. Another thrust aimed at his leg scraped against Joel’s fiery aura, keeping him off balance. Each strike was deliberate, designed not to deal decisive damage but to wear Joel down, to chip away at his composure.
“Stop running!” Joel roared, flames surging around him as he swung his greatsword in a wild arc. But Lucavion wasn’t running—he was controlling the fight, dictating its rhythm with the ease of a conductor leading an orchestra.
“You call this running?” Lucavion quipped, his voice calm as he sidestepped yet another fiery slash. His estoc flicked out, grazing Joel’s shoulder before retreating. “I’d call it teaching.”
Joel’s flames burned hotter, his frustration mounting as Lucavion continued to outmaneuver him. Each strike of his greatsword felt heavier, his mana reserves dwindling as he tried in vain to pin Lucavion down.
‘He’s… untouchable,’ Joel thought, sweat dripping down his brow as he tried to anticipate Lucavion’s next move. But Lucavion was always a step ahead, his blade darting in to land another precise thrust before retreating just as quickly.
STAB!
Another shallow cut on Joel’s thigh.
SLICE!
A glancing blow across his arm.
Lucavion’s strikes were like needles, each one small but cumulative, wearing Joel down little by little. The crowd watched in awe as the Phantom Blade demonstrated his mastery, his estoc moving with blinding speed and precision.
Joel finally reached his limit.
————–A/N————-
I have a French exam tomorrow, so the chapters might be late. Wish me luck!
