As Cairos' voice thundered across the arena, the two combatants tensed, preparing themselves for the clash. Erickson wore a confident grin, his eyes gleaming with arrogance, while Lionel's gaze sharpened into a glare that pierced through him like a blade.
Without a moment's hesitation, both surged forward, the sound of their feet pounding against the stone floor echoing across the coliseum.
Erickson spun his staff with practiced ease, the thick wood cutting through the air in rapid arcs—left, right, upward, then down in a crushing strike aimed to overwhelm.
Lionel's left hand drew back, his palm opening outward as he uttered in a low, resonant voice:
"Hammer that grants possibilities."
In an instant, a radiant weapon materialized—its head shaped like a crystalline hammer, gleaming in hues of white and emerald, fragments of light scattering around it like shards of glass.
With a roar, Lionel swung upward, meeting Erickson's descending strike.
The two weapons collided in the center of the arena with a deafening clang, a forceful shockwave erupting outward. Dust and grit blew from the ground as neither fighter gave an inch, both straining in the deadlock—Lionel's crystalline hammer pressing against Erickson's whirling staff.
For a heartbeat, time itself seemed to pause, the entire arena holding its breath as sparks crackled between their clashing weapons.
Erickson chuckled, his teeth clenched as his staff pressed down hard. "What's this? You want to test my strength with that hammer?"
Lionel's grip tightened, his eyes sharpening. "A contest of strength?" A dry laugh escaped him. "You're sorely mistaken. I'm not here to measure myself against you."
With a sudden surge of force, Lionel heaved his hammer upward. The ground cracked beneath his feet as power rippled through his swing. Erickson's wooden staff, caught in the clash, was violently pushed back—the pressure so overwhelming it tore free from the balance of their struggle and was hurled upward into the air.
A faint light flickered before Lionel's eyes.
[The Hammer That Grants Possibilities has been used.
Target: Wooden Staff]
The flying staff shimmered, bursting apart in midair, scattering into a cascade of radiant sparks like a firework against the bright sky.
Erickson's face twisted in confusion, eyes wide. "W-what the—what just happ—"
CRACK!
Lionel's crystalline hammer smashed straight into his face. Blood burst from Erickson's nose as his body reeled back.
Without hesitation, Lionel followed with a savage upward swing, the hammer connecting under Erickson's chin and launching him skyward, his body twisting helplessly.
The arena stilled, the audience holding their breath.
Lionel raised the gleaming hammer, his voice cutting through the silence. "This is the result of my hard work—the very thing you spat on while hiding behind your talent."
Erickson groaned, struggling to rise on shaky legs.
Lionel's gaze bore into him, steady and unyielding. "Sure, you have talent. But hard work beats talent… when talent doesn't work hard."
Erickson grunted, blood running from his nose as he snarled. "You'll pay for that!" With nothing left but his fists, he lunged at Lionel like a wild beast, eyes burning with rage.
Lionel sidestepped smoothly, his voice calm and cutting. "What a waste of talent… to throw it away acting like a dumb beast."
Erickson's body rushed past him, too fast and too furious to stop. Lionel's eyes narrowed—he had been waiting for this exact moment. He raised the crystal hammer high, muscles coiled, and as Erickson's unguarded back passed the midpoint before him, Lionel brought the hammer crashing down.
BOOM!
The impact shook the arena floor, Erickson's body slamming into the ground with a thunderous crack. Dust and debris scattered outward as the once-proud prodigy lay crumpled, gasping, his pride shattered along with his body.
Lionel began to turn and walk away, thinking the fight was over.
"No… not yet," Erickson groaned, staggering to his feet, chest heaving with each ragged breath. "I have to admit… your talent surpasses mine."
He pressed both hands against his cheeks, bending slightly forward, and let out a deep, resonant roar.
"Bull's Might!"
His muscles swelled, thick cords of power rippling under his skin. A low growl echoed from him as his frame grew larger, his skin darkening to a rich brown. His hands clenched into fists, veins standing out, pulsating with raw strength. A strained sigh passed through his nose, as if releasing the tension of the transformation.
He fixed his gaze on Lionel, eyes burning with determination. "This time… it will be different. This isn't just the power of a bull. Our bloodline hardens the skin, doubles our resilience, and sharpens our strength beyond a normal human's limits."
Erickson's stance steadied, every inch of his body radiating focus and discipline. "I won't hold back. I'll give everything I have."
With a sudden burst, he charged forward, left hand drawn back, right fist leading like the head of a bull aiming straight at Lionel.
Lionel, calm but alert, raised his hammer slightly and muttered, "Seriously… you're still going to fight?"
Erickson roared, his voice shaking the arena. "Our family's strongest offense!" His left fist clenched, teeth gritted, muscles bulging as raw power surged through his body. "Get blown away from this arena, Lionellll!!! Haaahhh… Take this—Unyielding!!"
He charged forward, fist aimed like a battering bull.
Lionel didn't flinch. Calmly raising his hammer, he muttered under his breath, "Shut your bullshit, you bull." With a lightning-fast downward swing, his hammer connected squarely with Erickson's head.
The impact was devastating. Blood spurted from Erickson's nose as his head was driven downward with unstoppable force, burying him deep into the arena floor. Dust and debris erupted around him, the ground cracking under the sheer weight of the strike.
"What are you saying—double your resilience and your 'strongest offense'?" Lionel knelt on the unconscious Erickson, hammer resting lightly against his shoulder. "All you did was change your skin color. That skill of yours doesn't actually make you stronger. What it really does is trigger an adrenaline surge, temporarily increasing your pain tolerance and muscular output—but only for a few seconds. It doesn't make your bones, muscles, or organs any tougher, and it certainly doesn't multiply your durability. It's just your nervous system overcompensating for stress. Scientifically speaking, your 'invincibility' is an illusion."
He shook his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "All this effort, all this bravado… and yet, here you are, completely knocked out."
Cairos muttered to himself, "What is this? He understands the skill in just one glance?"
It was almost like Ruvia, he thought—but different. Ruvia needed to test, to take risks, to feel the technique in action before she could truly understand it. But Lionel… it was as if he had studied every angle, every detail, every nuance without ever exposing himself to danger.
"He doesn't just see it… he analyzes it, anticipates it, and calculates the outcome before a single move is made," Cairos continued silently, a mix of awe and disbelief creeping into his voice.
Lionel began to rise to his feet, adjusting his grip on the crystalline hammer when he heard a ragged grunt below him. His gaze dropped.
Erickson—bloodied, battered, and swaying—was pushing himself up from the cracked arena floor.
Lionel let out a weary sigh.
"Seriously? You're going to stand again?" His eyes narrowed, voice low but edged with a strange respect. "I'll commend your tenacity… but at this rate, you'll die."
Erickson staggered upright, chest heaving, a crooked smile spreading across his face. His laugh was hoarse, almost broken.
"Hah… hah… I'll… decide that…"
Lionel's expression hardened as he lifted the Hammer that Grants Possibilities overhead, its emerald sheen catching the light.
"Well then," he muttered, voice carrying across the silent arena, "here's another goodnight call for you. Don't worry—I won't hit you that hard."
With a sharp breath, he brought the hammer down in a brutal arc.
The impact never came.
A thunderous shockwave of air burst outward as Lionel's hammer was halted mid-swing. Cairos, standing at the edge of the arena, raised his arms to shield his face from the gust. The spectators gasped in unison, voices rising in disbelief.
There stood Erickson—half-ruined, his body trembling—but his hand was wrapped firmly around the head of Lionel's hammer. His muscles bulged, his veins showing against his skin, and from him pulsed a deep, earthen-brown aura that rippled like heatwaves.
Lionel's eyes widened slightly, his grip tightening instinctively.
"…So, you've still got one card left."
Lionel's hammer trembled in Erickson's grip, the weapon that moments ago crushed him now frozen in place by sheer willpower. That earthen-brown aura coiled around Erickson like living armor, his battered body thrumming with unnatural vigor.
And then—
Ding!
A translucent screen flared to life before Lionel's eyes.
[System Notification]
Divine Blessing Detected: Gaia's Endurance.
Description: The user's body is granted the endurance of the earth itself. Every wound received, every ounce of pain endured, hardens their flesh and deepens their strength. The greater the damage, the greater the surge of power.
Limit: This gift is bound by mortality. The blessing will last only until the user's body can no longer withstand the strain—then it will collapse.
Lionel's pupils tightened as he read, his grip firming on the haft of his hammer.
"So that's it… not stubbornness, not just adrenaline. He's growing stronger with every hit."
He glanced at Erickson, whose ragged breathing now carried a strange steadiness, his aura pulsing brighter with each second.
Lionel muttered under his breath, almost grimly:
"…But the more he fights, the closer he pushes himself to death."
The crowd roared in awe, but Lionel could only sigh, shifting into stance again.
Lionel twirled his crystalline hammer backward, the emerald glow catching the sunlight, his eyes sharp and unwavering.
"Well then," he declared, his voice carrying across the arena, "let me crush that ace card of yours."
He took a step forward, his aura surging.
"You see—nothing is impossible when I wield this hammer. With it, I can turn the impossible into opportunities… and opportunities into possibilities!"
He lunged forward, the ground cracking beneath each step, his hammer raised to strike.
Across from him, Erickson's muscles swelled as his aura flared violently, his skin pulsing with earthy energy. He let out a beastlike roar and slammed his fist into the arena floor.
BOOOOOM!!!
The stage erupted, stone and dust exploding upward as a crushing shockwave surged like a tidal wave straight toward Lionel.
But Lionel did not falter. His eyes gleamed with determination, his hammer cutting through the haze of debris as he charged headlong into the storm.
The crowd rose to their feet, gasps and shouts echoing through the coliseum. Cairos' eyes widened as he muttered under his breath,
"This… this next clash will decide it all…"
And then—just as hammer and fist drew close enough to collide—
The Third Bout of the Ceremonial of Swords was nearing its end.