The battle continued.
Beatrix stood her ground, odachi trembling slightly in her grip. Her stance was firm, but her fingers clenched tighter than before. She was trying to steady herself—to convince her own body that she could move forward.
Igor, on the other hand, remained still. His massive form was leaned forward just slightly, his arms loose at his sides. He had no bones. No muscles. No physical constraints.
He was built differently.
Beatrix took another cautious step, already expecting the crushing weight of another vision.
But—nothing.
No visions. No deaths. No premonitions of her body being torn apart.
She blinked, confused for the first time.
Beatrix: Haha... you ran out of mana, didn't you?
A smirk, forced, laced with relief.
Igor tilted his head slightly. Not slow, not fast. Just unnatural.
His visor flickered, scanning her once more.
Igor: Mana?
His tone was unreadable.
Igor: I do not require something as inefficient as mana.
Beatrix's smirk faltered slightly.
Igor: I run on my core. A source beyond your understanding.
Beatrix: (thinking) Core?
Igor: Even if it were depleted, my stamina would sustain me.
Igor: If that failed, my internal reserves would take over.
Igor: If those ran dry, my energy outputs would realign and repurpose excess kinetic force.
Igor: And even then—my movements would not falter.
Igor: My strength would not diminish.
Igor: And my victory would remain unchanged.
Beatrix felt something cold crawl down her spine.
It wasn't bravado. It wasn't boasting.
It was just fact.
Then—he moved.
Not a flicker. Not a blur.
A shift in existence.
One moment, he was in front of her.
The next—he was behind her.
Her pulse spiked. She spun, slashing wildly—but nothing.
The air around her bent.
Behind her again.
She turned—gone.
Another slash—emptiness.
Her body screamed at her to move—to run—to react.
But it was useless.
He was there.
Then—thirty-one yards away.
No teleportation. No movement.
Just placement.
Beatrix: (thinking) He's... not fast.
Beatrix: (thinking) He's inevitable.
Then—a voice entered her mind.
Not hers.
Not Igor's.
His.
Dark: (telepathy) Igor, put her down already. I don't have time for this. Move onto the next duel.
Igor's visor flickered.
Igor: As you command, my Emperor.
Then—the world stuttered.
A break in reality.
The air flashed between black and white.
Normalcy.
Black and white again.
In one frame, Igor walked toward Beatrix.
The next—he was already holding her.
The third—impact.
A tremor that cracked the foundations of the arena.
A force that shattered the air itself.
A collision so absolute that sound itself lagged.
Then—Beatrix was on the ground.
Motionless.
Her odachi—gone.
The imprint of her body was carved into the stone.
She hadn't screamed.
Hadn't reacted.
Hadn't even processed what had happened.
Aric's voice rang through the stadium, but it barely registered.
Aric: IT'S OVER!
Silence.
Then, a wave of divided reactions.
Some booed.
Some murmured in disappointment.
Some simply nodded—they already knew.
Beatrix was never meant to win.
Her existence on this battlefield had been a mistake.
Igor remained standing over her. Unshaken. Unmoving.
His aura did not waver.
Because in his mind—he had never fought.
He tilted his head slightly.
Igor: She will live.
Dark: (telepathy) You sound disappointed.
Igor: She was not worth killing.
Dark exhaled through his nose.
Dark: (thinking) No one here is.
Then—something shifted.
Across the battlefield, another warrior moved.
Not Igor.
Not the announcer.
Not the spectators.
Him.
Dark's eyes flicked toward the warrior he had noticed before.
The Bearer of Fire and Ice.
Seated. Still. Watching.
Then—for the first time—he stood.
A single step. Slow. Calculated.
His golden-red eyes locked onto Igor.
Then onto Dark.
And—he smirked.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: Now that... was something.
Dark barely reacted.
His crimson gaze remained calm.
Unmoved.
Unimpressed.
Dark: (thinking) They always talk before they fall.
The arena was silent.
Aric stepped forward, the golden trim of his announcer's coat catching the dim arena light. His expression was neutral, but even he could feel it—the weight of what had just happened.
Still, the show had to continue.
Aric: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FIRST MATCH HAS ENDED!
The crowd erupted—not in cheers, not in excitement, but in an unstable mixture of disbelief and speculation.
Aric: BEATRIX, A VETERAN WARRIOR OF THE ARENA, HAS BEEN UTTERLY DEFEATED!
The echoes of his voice rolled across the stands, and for the first time in decades, the crowd was not sure how to react.
Some muttered amongst themselves.
Some looked at Dark, seated far off with his hands still in his pockets.
Some simply stared at Igor, who remained unmoved, his crimson visor reflecting the torches around the arena.
Aric inhaled, then threw his arm into the air.
Aric: BUT THE NIGHT IS NOT OVER!
The crowd stirred, slowly returning to its normal energy.
Aric: NEXT FIGHT! IGOR! VERSUS—
He looked at the next name. The name of a man who had been waiting for his turn to prove himself.
Aric: VALDOR OF THE BROKEN LANDS!
From the far side of the arena, a massive, heavily-armored warrior stomped forward.
Valdor was no weakling. He was no common soldier.
He had won dozens of battles in this very arena.
Valdor: Hah! So this is Igor!
He slammed his gauntlet against his chest, the impact echoing.
Valdor: I don't care what you are. You bleed, you break, you fall!
The crowd roared, some gaining their confidence back.
Dark barely reacted.
Igor did not move.
Aric: BEGIN!
The moment the words left his mouth—
Valdor was already on the ground.
The audience barely registered what happened.
One moment, Valdor was raising his war axe.
The next—
He was kneeling, blood pouring from his helmet.
His arms, broken.
His chest plate, cracked.
His spirit, shattered.
Igor had not drawn his weapon.
He had not moved from his spot.
Valdor's mind barely understood it before he passed out, his body slumping forward.
Silence.
Absolute, pure silence.
Then—
Aric exhaled sharply.
Aric: ...IGOR IS VICTORIOUS.
His voice was quieter this time.
The crowd didn't cheer.
They barely reacted.
Because they didn't see anything.
And that—was worse.
Aric cleared his throat, reading the next name quickly.
Aric: NEXT MATCH! IGOR! VERSUS—
Before he could even say the name—
Another warrior had already jumped forward.
A man with sleek silver armor, long crimson hair flowing down his back. His eyes were sharp, radiating arrogance.
Silver Knight: Enough of this nonsense. I will put an end to this charade.
He unsheathed his twin swords, their edges gleaming under the torchlight.
Silver Knight: You are strong, but you are not invincible. I, the Silver Phantom, will show you—
CRACK.
His body hit the ground.
His left arm—gone.
His swords—broken.
His vision—fading.
Silver Phantom: ...Wha—
Igor had already turned away.
He was already walking back to his starting position.
As if nothing had happened.
Aric blinked, his grip on his parchment tightening.
Aric: ...IGOR IS VICTORIOUS.
The murmurs in the audience grew louder.
One by one, warriors stopped volunteering.
This was no longer a tournament.
This was annihilation.
Aric hesitated.
Then—he read the final name.
Aric: THE LAST MATCH OF THE NIGHT.
A ripple of interest ran through the arena.
They already knew.
They had been waiting.
Aric: IGOR. VERSUS—
A deep, crackling flame ignited in the air.
A wave of ice followed it, chilling the very stone of the arena floor.
Aric: THE BEARER OF FIRE AND ICE.
The crowd finally roared.
A real match.
A real test.
Igor...
Would finally have to move.
Dark tilted his head slightly, watching as the man he had sensed earlier—the one he knew was different—stood up, rolling his shoulders.
The Bearer of Fire and Ice stepped forward, his aura radiating duality—burning heat and freezing cold.
He stopped just a few paces from Igor.
And then, for the first time since the tournament began—
Igor turned his head slightly.
Not a lot. Not dramatically.
But enough.
Enough to acknowledge.
Enough to recognize.
The Bearer of Fire and Ice smirked.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: You don't talk much, do you?
Igor: Talking is unnecessary.
The man chuckled.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: Good. Then let's not waste time.
The heat of his flames intensified, the frost on the ground spreading outward.
The temperature of the arena twisted violently. Flames burned bright enough to sear the air itself, while frost spread like a creeping plague, crackling the stone beneath their feet. The two forces clashed, neither yielding to the other, caught in an eternal struggle of destruction and preservation.
The Bearer of Fire and Ice smirked, rolling his shoulders as if he hadn't a care in the world. His golden-red eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: Tell me, Igor. Does a machine like you even feel excitement?
Igor remained still. His crimson visor flickered.
Igor: Excitement is irrelevant. The outcome of this battle has already been determined.
The smirk on the Bearer's lips twitched slightly. He raised his arm, flames surging across his left forearm while a thick layer of frost coated his right, both elements spiraling around him in perfect harmony. The heat was suffocating, the cold unbearable, yet he stood in the center of it all like a god of destruction.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: You sound awfully sure of yourself.
Igor: Certainty is the only logical state.
Without warning, the Bearer struck first.
He didn't charge—he launched forward, the stone beneath his feet exploding from the sheer force of his acceleration. His fist, coated in a swirling vortex of fire and ice, hurtled toward Igor's head at a speed that sent a shockwave rippling across the battlefield.
Igor didn't flinch.
At the last possible moment, he slightly tilted his head.
The Bearer's fist brushed past his helmet, missing by an imperceptible margin.
Before the crowd could even register what had happened, Igor's gauntlet was already swinging toward the Bearer's ribs. A blow that would have shattered the core of any warrior.
The Bearer twisted at the last second.
A flash-freeze of ice coated his midsection, absorbing part of the impact as he was sent flying back. The moment his feet touched the ground, flames erupted beneath him, slowing his momentum just enough to land gracefully.
The crowd erupted in awe.
He had survived.
The Bearer exhaled sharply, rubbing his ribs where the ice had already started to crack. His grin widened.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: Heh... You really don't hold back, do you?
Igor: Restraint is unnecessary.
The Bearer cracked his knuckles, his aura swelling.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: Good.
The air howled as he unleashed his next attack.
A wall of fire surged forward, hot enough to warp the atmosphere itself. At the same time, the ground beneath Igor's feet erupted in jagged spikes of ice, aiming to impale him from below.
Igor shifted slightly.
In less than a blink, he was gone.
No wasted movement. No hesitation.
One moment, he was standing still.
The next, he was already beside the Bearer.
His fist was already in motion.
The Bearer barely reacted in time, a barrier of frost forming around his body as Igor's blow connected.
BOOM.
The explosion of force sent the Bearer skidding across the battlefield. Ice shattered. Flames flickered wildly from the aftershock.
But he was still standing.
He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the impact. A single crack lined his forearm's ice plating.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: Heh... Haven't had to reinforce my body in years.
He clenched his fists, and his aura doubled.
The flames around his arm turned black, fueled by something far more dangerous than natural fire. The ice along his body gleamed, sharpening at the edges like razors.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: Let's see how long you last when I get serious.
Igor didn't move.
Didn't react.
Because in his mind, the fight was already over.
The Bearer of Fire and Ice took a slow breath.
Then—he vanished.
Not from speed.
But from sheer overwhelming force.
The next second, he was above Igor, fist descending like a comet.
Igor blocked.
Not dodged.
Not evaded.
He caught the strike in his palm, the impact splitting the ground beneath them.
The arena shook.
The Bearer's grin widened, but this time, there was something different about it. It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't mockery. It was something deeper—something genuine.
He stepped back, exhaling slowly, the frost on his right arm spreading further up his shoulder while the flames on his left roared higher, crackling with untamed energy.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: Heh... Before we keep going, you should at least know my name.
He rolled his neck, the motion slow, deliberate. His golden-red eyes locked onto Igor's visor, studying, measuring.
Bearer of Fire and Ice: I am Raizel Voren.
The name rippled through the arena.
Many had only known him by his title—The Bearer of Fire and Ice. But his true name was something few had heard in years.
Raizel: My father? A warlord. My mother? A saint. You can probably guess how that worked out.
The flames around his arm flickered violently, as if reacting to the memory.
Raizel: My father raised me to conquer. To burn. To crush. My mother? She raised me to protect. To preserve. To balance.
He raised both of his hands—one wreathed in flames, the other coated in jagged frost.
Raizel: You see this? This is the result. Two halves that should never exist together. Two forces that should cancel each other out.
He clenched his fists, and suddenly, his aura compressed. It wasn't just stronger—it was denser, more controlled, more refined.
Raizel: And yet... they exist. Because I willed them to.
He tilted his head slightly.
Raizel: Do you get it now, Igor? I'm not like these other weaklings who barely understand their own power. I don't fight with borrowed strength. I don't guess my next move.
The heat of his flames spiked. The frost on his body thickened.
Raizel: I choose my victories.
Then—his aura erupted.
For the first time since the fight began, Igor was forced a step back.
It wasn't a retreat. It wasn't hesitation.
It was just necessary.
Because Raizel's sheer presence had just shifted the battlefield itself.
The ground beneath them cracked. The torches lining the arena flickered wildly, as if unsure whether to be consumed by his fire or extinguished by his ice.
The audience, which had been hesitant before, finally felt something—an instinctive thrill.
This wasn't just another slaughter.
This wasn't just another victim.
This... was a real fight.
Raizel smirked, rolling his shoulders.
Raizel: Now, let's see if you can choose yours.
He vanished.
And for the first time since the tournament began—
Igor moved.
Their collision shattered the air.
The sheer force of their clash sent shockwaves tearing across the battlefield. Fire and ice met against pure, unyielding might.
Raizel's fist struck Igor's gauntlet, and for the first time, Igor's footing shifted—only slightly, but enough for Raizel's smirk to widen.
Raizel: Not so unshakable now, are you?!
Igor didn't respond.
He simply countered.
His other arm lashed forward, aiming straight for Raizel's ribs.
But Raizel was already twisting.
Flames erupted beneath his feet, launching him just out of range, the frost on his other arm solidifying as he drove a knee into Igor's side.
Impact.
Igor moved.
Not much.
Not enough to stagger.
But enough.
Raizel: There it is.
He wasn't just strong.
He was smart.
He had seen what Igor had done to the others.
He knew that fighting him head-on was pointless.
But this?
This was a game of momentum.
And he had just taken the first move.
Raizel: Let's see if you can keep up, metal man.
Igor's visor flickered.
And then—they clashed again.
This time, there was no hesitation. No pauses.
Only pure, uninterrupted combat.
The audience barely kept up.
To them, it was chaos—two blurs colliding, separating, reappearing in different parts of the battlefield only to meet again in an explosion of fire and force.
Raizel swung—flames roaring around his fist.
Igor blocked, countering with a crushing backhand that tore through the air.
Raizel ducked, his frost-covered leg sweeping toward Igor's knee.
Igor lifted his foot, evading just in time, then brought it down in a stomp that fractured the battlefield.
Raizel twisted, ice forming a shield that absorbed the force—barely.
For the first time—
Igor had found someone who could survive his blows.
To Be Continued.....
End Of Arc 5 Chapter 7.