"Where is she?!"
Crowley frantically searched for Artoria across the battlefield, his eyes darting between the swirling chaos of combat and the empty spaces where she should have been. His mental perception remained useless, Azrael's overwhelming spiritual pressure created an impenetrable barrier that blocked any attempt at supernatural reconnaissance.
Since his naked eyes couldn't locate the missing knight, Crowley gritted his teeth and barked out desperate commands to his summoned cards.
Meng Po and her three companions on the field had already sensed that something was terribly wrong. The ancient ferryman of souls, in particular, remembered all too well the devastating power of Artoria's golden blade. She'd faced that legendary sword before and knew firsthand the catastrophic destruction it could unleash.
The blood-yellow waters of the Nai River surged forward, mixing with putrid winds as they pressed toward Fubuki and Nel's position with renewed aggression.
"Did you finally notice?" Azrael's lips curved into a satisfied smile as he observed from the battlefield's edge. "But Artoria is almost ready. You're already too late."
The audience in the stands remained thoroughly puzzled by Azrael's tactical choices. From their perspective, the young Lore Cardian seemed to be making one strategic blunder after another, sacrificing his cards without apparent purpose.
However, a few sharp-eyed spectators had begun to notice the glaring absence on the battlefield.
"Wait, isn't Azrael missing one of his cards?" someone called out with sudden realization.
"You're right! Where did that knight go?"
"Maybe she was eliminated by the aftermath of the battle," another voice suggested dismissively. "These things happen when you send melee fighters into such chaotic combat."
To most observers, it seemed perfectly reasonable that a close-combat specialist like Artoria would lose her combat effectiveness after being caught in the crossfire of such devastating attacks. The brutal exchange between Unohana and Crowley's four cards had torn the arena apart; surely any nearby combatant would have been overwhelmed.
"What a shame," an elderly Lore Cardian Master sighed from the stands. "The boy showed such promise, but youth and inexperience are showing through. Still, with talent like his, he'll have a bright future ahead. Perhaps he'll even challenge for the championship in the national competition two months from now?"
"Indeed," his companion agreed. "To achieve this much at such a young age is already remarkable. This loss will be a valuable learning experience."
However, unlike the ordinary spectators filling the stands, every high-level Lore Cardian Master in the VIP section watched the unfolding battle with knowing anticipation and barely concealed amusement.
"He actually fell for such a simple misdirection," the president of Riverstone University muttered with a mixture of disbelief and secondhand embarrassment.
In his professional opinion, Azrael's strategy was almost insultingly straightforward, use one card to create a dramatic distraction while another prepared a devastating finishing move in secret. Any competent Lore Cardian Master should have recognized such an obvious ploy immediately.
Before Master Lucian could respond to the criticism, the Chancellor of Cambridge University interjected with defensive enthusiasm. "Now, now, you can't fault young Azrael's execution here. He's handled the misdirection brilliantly!"
The Chancellor's voice carried genuine admiration as he continued. "Besides, the fundamental issue is that his death-system card created such overwhelming pressure that Crowley couldn't spare any attention for peripheral concerns."
He gestured toward the battlefield with academic precision. "More importantly, can't you sense the disparity in their mental power? Azrael's spiritual pressure completely dominates Crowley's. Even if the boy wanted to extend his perception to scout the battlefield, he simply lacks the capability to overcome that suppression."
The Cambridge Chancellor spoke these words with complete sincerity, and his defense of Azrael had nothing to do with institutional loyalty. The tactical mastery on display deserved recognition regardless of university affiliation.
The Riverstone president merely curled his lips in response, too proud to continue the argument. Fine, so you have one exceptional student, he thought bitterly. Why does Cambridge always get the best prospects?
His gaze drifted to Master Lucian sitting serenely in the front row, and understanding dawned with crushing clarity. Of course. When you have connections like that, talent naturally follows.
The realization only deepened his depression. Why can't we attract such distinguished faculty?
Among all the distinguished guests, only Master Lucian and Zidaine maintained their focus on Nel, the small figure who had remained mysteriously inactive throughout the battle.
Neither master believed for a moment that Azrael had included such a card merely for bond effects or numerical advantage.
Yet despite their careful observation, the child-like Arrancar's true nature remained frustratingly opaque.
Master Lucian's mind raced through possibilities before settling on an intriguing theory. "The Two-Faced Being material? So that's where Azrael chose to use it."
He recalled the specific collection of materials he'd provided to his disciple months ago, and anticipation built in his chest for Nel's eventual revelation. Though she'd acted as nothing more than an adorable mascot thus far, he suspected that was about to change dramatically.
On the battlefield, Fubuki's emerald eyes flashed with sudden understanding as she faced the coordinated assault from Meng Po's team.
"It's almost time," Azrael's voice resonated in her mind through their spiritual connection. "You won't be able to maintain the concealment much longer. Focus everything on defense for now."
Invisible telekinetic energy began swirling around her position with increasing intensity, forming multiple defensive layers that firmly protected Azrael's remaining three cards from the incoming barrage.
As Fubuki gradually withdrew her concealment technique, the more observant members of the audience finally noticed something profoundly wrong with the battlefield's energy signature.
"Look at the barrier!" someone shouted with growing alarm. "Is it... moving?"
The confused exclamation drew every eye in the stands toward the arena's protective field. While the emerald-level barrier itself remained perfectly stationary, strange ripples had begun spreading from a specific point in space, like waves across an invisible pond.
Finally, when Fubuki completely released her concealment technique, the truth was revealed to all.
A beautiful yet deadly golden beam materialized in everyone's vision, already charged to maximum power and aimed directly at Crowley's clustered cards.
[Wind King Barrier - Fubuki Full Power Magically Enhanced Version]!
The inferior Wind King Barrier could only hide a blade from sight.
The true Wind King Barrier could completely mask the gathering of world-ending power until the moment of release.
"CALIBURN!"
Artoria's clear voice rang across the arena like a bell tolling judgment.
Facing the continued assault from Meng Po's team, a golden torrent descended from the heavens with divine fury.
At this point, evasion had become impossible for Meng Po and her three companions. They'd committed too deeply to their attack, and the beam's area of effect encompassed their entire formation.
The blood-yellow waters of the Nai River instantly contracted, wrapping around all four cards in a desperate spherical shield.
The arena floor might as well have been made of paper. Massive sections were instantly vaporized, leaving behind only smooth, glassy surfaces where solid stone had existed moments before. The battlefield that had already been scarred by Unohana's rampage was suddenly, violently, made perfectly flat again.
If maintenance personnel had been present to assess the damage, they would have discovered that the entire arena floor now sat several meters lower than its original elevation.
The surging golden torrent showed no signs of stopping, its devastating power continuously hammering against the barrier at the arena's edge with tremendous force.
Fortunately, the protective field maintaining audience safety was emerald-level construction, and more importantly, it had been personally provided by Master Lucian himself. Although Artoria's light cannon attack possessed terrifying destructive power, it obviously couldn't penetrate such masterfully crafted defenses.
Despite this protection, the psychological impact on the audience was profound. Endless golden waves continued spreading outward, creating visible distortions in the air itself.
The spectators seated directly in front of Artoria's attack suffered the worst psychological effects. They'd never experienced such proximity to apocalyptic power.
"The barrier will hold, right?" someone asked with a trembling voice, unable to tear their eyes away from the golden energy constantly testing their protection. "Why am I so terrified?"
The sound of nervous swallowing came from nearby as another spectator responded. "It should hold. This is Master Lucian's personal barrier. Besides, look, he hasn't even moved from his seat. If there was real danger, he'd intervene."
The speaker's words might have been more convincing if their legs hadn't been shaking violently throughout the entire statement.
Finally, the assembled audience understood why Unohana Retsu had charged alone against four opponents in what seemed like tactical suicide. It hadn't been desperation or incompetence, it had been a calculated sacrifice to buy time for this devastating ambush.
Far away in Velkairos, Gustav stared at his television screen in complete stupefaction.
Gabi couldn't contain her excitement, bouncing in her seat as she exclaimed, "Dad, Azrael is going to win!"
Although she couldn't properly assess the technical level of Artoria's Caliburn attack, she could see that the golden torrent had completely engulfed Crowley's cards. Victory seemed assured.
Gustav remained silent for a long moment before murmuring to himself, "Young Azrael... it seems my initial assessment was correct after all."
He vividly remembered their first meeting, triggered by the Cory incident when Azrael had still been Black Iron rank. Even then, something about the young man had reminded him of Lioren, the legendary Sovereign-level Lore Cardian Master.
He'd dismissed such fanciful comparisons shortly afterward. After all, how could a Black Iron practitioner possibly share qualities with someone of Lioren's caliber?
But witnessing this display of power forced him to reconsider. Perhaps Azrael truly did possess that same spark of transcendent talent.
Back in the arena, Artoria's golden beam gradually began to dissipate, its energy finally exhausted after the prolonged assault.
What appeared before the audience was not the empty, glassed crater everyone had expected.
Where Meng Po and her three companions had made their final stand, a solitary figure remained standing.
The woman's body, split perfectly between alabaster white and midnight black, was now wreathed in writhing spirits of the vengeful dead. Ghostly figures with expressions of eternal torment coiled around her form like living smoke.
Her eyes, which had been merely unsettling before, now blazed with crimson light that seemed dyed in fresh blood. Those terrible pupils fixed on Azrael's remaining cards with predatory intensity.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Crowley's voice, filled with equal parts joy and madness, shattered the stunned silence that had fallen over the battlefield.
"AZRAEL! VICTORY IS MINE!"
The proclamation echoed across the arena as Melinoë, goddess of nightmares and madness, prepared to demonstrate why even diminished Olympic deities commanded respect and fear in equal measure.