The sun hung high, its golden light illuminating the arena as the crowd gathered, buzzing with anticipation. Today wasn't just any match—it was the match. Felix vs. Dain. Low life vs. the Seven Sword Edges' heir. The underdog vs. the nobility.
As the crowd's roar filled the air, Sylvara approached Felix, her voice filled with concern.
"Felix, don't challenge him. You still have time to back out. I fought him before—he's tough. You're not ready for this."
Felix flashed a grin, looking unbothered by her warning.
"Shhh, don't worry. Every road has its exit."
With a flick of his wrist, Felix spun a coin into the air, watching it gleam in the sunlight. It spun like fate itself, twirling and twisting until it landed on heads. He smirked.
"And my way out? Well, it's by fighting."
With a carefree smile, Felix tucked the coin away in his pocket. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."
Meanwhile, in a different room...
A voice called out from outside Dain's door.
"Dain! Dain!"
Dain opened the door to find a skinny, wiry young man, a grin plastered across his face.
"Master Dain, are you really going to fight that low-life? He doesn't deserve to face you. You shouldn't waste your energy."
Dain's eyes flared with anger.
"Don't interfere with my business. Leave."
But the skinny man didn't back down, his smile widening.
"Don't worry, Master. I see why you challenged him. But let me tell you something. I believe you won't just beat him. You'll break him. You'll make him beg and—"
Dain's patience snapped. He stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous.
"Shut up. Now."
The skinny man raised his hands in mock surrender, backing out of the room. "Fine, fine. Just remember, Master, we're all watching. You'll do great."
Dain gritted his teeth. He didn't need anyone else's encouragement.
The Arena
The sun reached its zenith, casting its rays down onto the dust of the training grounds. Students lined the stands, whispers rippling through the air. They knew exactly who Dain was—he was the younger brother of Orric, a member of the Seven Sword Edges. His reputation alone had the crowd on his side.
Felix and Dain stood across from each other, facing off. Felix's golden eyes sparkled with mischief, while Dain's gaze burned with cold, vengeful determination.
Felix cracked a grin.
"Oh? Not using your fire sword today?"
Dain didn't answer. His eyes narrowed, anger simmering behind his cold exterior.
Felix leaned in, his voice dripping with mockery.
"So... you'll let your sword do the talking, huh? Is that your strategy? Guess I'm in trouble now."
Dain gripped his sword tighter, fingers turning white.
Sylvara, standing at the edge of the arena, raised her hand to signal the start of the match.
"Begin!"
The two charged, moving like lightning. The sound of clashing steel rang out, sharp and metallic, as their swords collided. Felix's sword was held loosely, while Dain's grip was firm, unyielding.
Felix allowed Dain's force to push him back, deliberately loosening his grip to gain control over his own weapon. Dain's blade pushed Felix's to the ground—but that's when Felix struck.
A quick, forceful punch to Dain's face sent him stumbling back. Felix grinned, his teeth flashing.
"Come on, get up."
The crowd gasped in surprise. Dain's fiery anger flared as he rose to his feet. His sword, now burning with a blazing intensity, sparked and crackled with fire as he charged once more.
"You'll regret that," Dain growled.
The two met again, their swords clashing in rapid succession, sparks flying as steel met steel. The sound of their battle echoed across the arena, a melody of violence, raw and primal.
Sylvara leaned toward Sylra, her eyes widening in admiration.
"Your friend is good. No, wait—he's better than good. I didn't know he had this kind of skill."
Sylra nodded, her expression unreadable.
"I knew he was strong... but this? This is something else. Let's see how it goes."
Felix and Dain continued to clash, their blades moving faster, the battle more ferocious with every passing second. But as they struck again, they both got pushed back by the force but this time something changed.
Felix was limping now. The wound on his leg, barely noticeable at first, had begun to bleed. His movements were slightly slower, but his smile never wavered.
Sylvara's eyes flicked to the injury, but she said nothing. She was the judge of this fight, and there were rules to follow.
Felix, gritting his teeth, spun a coin between his fingers. He muttered something under his breath and tossed it into the air. Heads.
His grin widened.
"Let's end this quickly."
He charged, his sword now gripped tighter, determination burning in his eyes. The two clashed again, but this time, Felix used his weight to force Dain's blade down into the earth. With a sudden, powerful motion, Felix's leg came down on Dain's sword, pushing it into the dirt.
Dain tried to push back, but the force from Felix's weight and momentum lifted him off his feet. Felix used the lift to soar into the air. As he came down, Dain raised his sword to block the attack—but it was too late.
The force of Felix's blow bent Dain's blade, the metal groaning under the pressure. Felix, still in the air, redirected the blow, grinding his sword against the handle of Dain's weapon.
In a flash, Felix pushed off, backflipping through the air, landing behind Dain with surprising agility.
WHAM! A powerful kick landed square in Dain's back, sending him crashing to the ground.
The crowd roared in shock. Felix had done it.
But as Dain struggled to rise, he saw Felix's leg—still bleeding, the wound now more severe. Enraged, Dain turned, and with a flash of fury, he aimed a swift kick at Felix's injured leg.
Felix cried out, collapsing backward. The wound bled even more now, but his grip on his sword never loosened.
Dain stood over him, sword raised high