"Damn it! What did you do to me?" Caelendir growled, rubbing his reddened eyes furiously with both hands.
Hayama did not waste the opportunity.
He lunged forward at blinding speed, almost like a shadow leaping out of the air itself. Clashes of steel rang out repeatedly, scattering sparks of light through the arena.
Even half-blinded, Caelendir still blocked every strike with one hand. Though he managed to hold his ground, the movements of his sword now resembled a dance performed in chaos.
Even with his guard completely open, it's incredible that he can still block everything, Hayama thought as he continued swinging his blade.
Drops of blood mixed with sweat kept spilling onto the ground. Yet Hayama ignored them, continuing to read every movement—every solid stance Caelendir took.
Meanwhile, the wasabi and goldenrod powder clinging to the prince's eyes slowly began to fade. His eyes gradually opened again, though they remained red and watery.
"How underhanded of you, Mortal!" Caelendir snarled.
One final clash of steel forced them both several meters apart.
Caelendir harshly brushed back his golden hair, as if showing that he had truly reached the limit of his patience.
His posture straightened. He assumed the stance of a professional fencer preparing to strike. Around him, light began to flow once more, forming swirling auroras.
"Aurora Sancta!"
"That attack again!" Hayama cursed, his hands moving on reflex.
Caelendir stepped backward several times, sinking once more into his ritualistic dance.
Meanwhile, Hayama tore open his outfit from shoulder to chest.
Beneath the black fabric emerged a white inner layer that reflected the altar's light like a solar panel. The new layer shimmered softly, utterly contrasting the image of a ninja.
"This time… I'll hide within the light," he whispered.
The pain in his body slowly faded, replaced by a cold and tranquil resolve. Only one thought remained in his mind: stop the Prince of Light before the aurora fully ignited once more.
And this time, it was not a black shadow attacking.
But a white flash streaking through the light.
"A shinobi in white?" Shinazugawa's voice echoed from the stands, his eyes gleaming with amazement.
Caelendir, not yet finished with his ritual movements, jolted in shock as a black blade of steel shot past, nearly severing his head.
He stepped back instinctively, eyes darting around.
"What was that?"
Before Caelendir could process the situation, Hayama was already behind him.
The Kusanagi blade swept through the air, carving a straight wound from the prince's right shoulder down to his left ribs.
"Arghhh!!"
"Winding River Path!"
His body moved fluidly, like water flowing around stone. His slashes came one after another, seamless and endless.
Caelendir lost his footing. He tried to block, but Hayama gave him no time to recover. Every strike merged together like reflections dancing across rippling water, until it became impossible to distinguish man from swordlight.
The Kusanagi glowed beneath the altar's radiance. And in that instant, Hayama was no longer a shadow.
He had become a white phantom dancing beneath the blazing daylight.
The cheers that had filled the Sky Colosseum suddenly stopped.
Every eye—from the human stands to the mythological races—stared in disbelief at the figure now moving within the sea of light.
There was no shadow.
No dark silhouette marking his presence.
Only trembling white light.
Yet every time that light flickered, blood spilled from Caelendir's body.
The Ancient One watched in silence.
The golden feathers of his garuda form reflected the altar's white brilliance, yet his expression held something deeper than mere surprise.
Perhaps admiration he refused to voice aloud.
"Again and again… that human keeps producing tricks beyond reason," he muttered softly, almost like a prayer.
The altar's light reflected wildly from the white fibers of Hayama's outfit, causing his body to blend into the radiant distortions of the arena.
Even so, there was a price to pay.
A single mistake in the angle of reflection could burn his own eyes instead.
Hayama vanished within the light.
For a moment he appeared—then disappeared again. Attacking from impossible directions, forcing Caelendir's eyes to dart wildly.
"Aurora Sancta: Non Activated!"
He raised the needle sword Elysiara toward the heavens, and instantly the light surrounding the altar began flowing into the blade. The once-blinding radiance dimmed gradually, like a sun sinking behind evening hills.
But Hayama refused to stand still.
He knew the light had become his ally. And he would not allow it to disappear so easily.
His hand reached into his weapon belt, pulling out a kunai attached to a small gunpowder sphere.
"I've already hidden myself within the light," he hissed quietly, almost like an oath.
"I won't let you extinguish it."
The kunai shot through the air like the whistle of a bird.
Caelendir reacted faster than thought itself.
"Don't underestimate me!" he roared as he slashed the kunai with Elysiara.
The instant metal met metal—
BOOM!
A small explosion shattered the air.
Orange light engulfed his arm, and blood sprayed like crimson rain.
The gunpowder blast struck his wrist directly, making his fingers unable to maintain their grip.
Elysiara slipped free, spinning briefly in the air before crashing onto the altar floor with a painful metallic clang.
Caelendir cried out in agony.
The moment Hayama saw the opening, his body shot forward like an arrow. He twisted mid-motion, preparing a final decisive strike.
But just before the Kusanagi pierced flesh, Caelendir seized Elysiara with his left hand.
His movement slowed, but it was enough to utter one final incantation:
"Aegis Solaris!"
Golden light erupted from the ground, forming a protective circle around him. The collision of both forces exploded with a deafening roar.
Then—
Crack.
The sound echoed sharply.
The Kusanagi sword fractured from hilt to tip.
KRAKK!
Hayama staggered backward. His pupils widened. The legendary blade carrying all his hopes split in two and fell at the foot of the altar.
"Aegis Solaris shattered the human sword!" one elf shouted, voice trembling between pride and relief.
"He did it… Prince Caelendir still stands!"
Several elves embraced one another as though they had just escaped a nightmare.
Tears filled the eyes of elderly elf officers witnessing the scene. Not merely because of victory—but because the honor of their race had not yet fallen.
"Elysiara still lives…" an elf priest whispered softly, staring at the circle of protective light still rotating around Caelendir.
"And as long as he holds it, sunlight will never bow to mankind."
Meanwhile, the humans remained silent.
Johan stared at the shattered Kusanagi. His eyes tightened.
The President merely let out a long breath. Though troubled by the broken blade, he seemed to know Hayama's resolve had not yet broken.
Hayama stepped back several paces, retreating beyond the range of the circle of light surrounding Caelendir.
Golden radiance spun wildly through the air, though dimmer now—not nearly as bright as when it first appeared. As though its strength faded together with the exhausted breathing of the Prince of Light.
Caelendir stared at his blood-covered arm. His trembling fingers tried to grip Elysiara once more.
But the blade felt far heavier than usual.
"Why… can't I lift it?" he muttered hoarsely, eyes widening in confusion.
"Am I… actually feeling pain now?"
He fell silent for a moment.
Then lowered his head.
Allowing his knees to touch the altar floor still warm from reflected light.
For the first time in his life, Prince Caelendir Elenvar hid himself inside his own fortress of light.
Meanwhile, Hayama leaned his back against a giant crystal pillar reflecting silver hues.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. His breathing was ragged. Sweat dripped from his chin.
He closed his eyes briefly, trying to steady himself. Then he opened his weapon pouch one by one.
Small pieces of metal fell onto the floor: several kunai and shuriken, two gunpowder bombs, and only five meters of wire remaining.
He exhaled roughly before glancing toward Caelendir, still wrapped within the flickering aurora barrier.
How could he pierce light that possessed mass… with only this?
He rested his head against the marble pillar behind him. His knees weakened upon the floor glowing with golden reflections.
On the other side, unnoticed by Hayama, the protective light around Caelendir slowly began to weaken—wavering like candle flames in the wind.
Within that fading glow, Caelendir slowly lifted his head.
He stared at the same sky Hayama watched from behind the pillar.
His body trembled. Not only from injury, but from a realization that shook him deeply.
For far too long, he had lived within perfect light and forgotten something far more fundamental.
Pain.
Pain that forced living beings to survive, to grow, and to learn how to rise again.
His hand touched his rapidly beating chest before drawing a deep breath.
"Am I now… as fragile as a human?" he whispered softly, almost inaudibly.
Meanwhile, behind the pillar, Hayama prepared himself with a new calculation.
Whether it would lead to victory—
or death.