Hal slowly opened his eyes, vision still blurry, only to see Yuna leaning over him, tending to his wounds. He was lying on the ground, barely conscious, while Merrick stood beside her, watching silently.
Confused, Hal asked weakly, "Isaburo… did you defeat that man who interfered in our battle?"
Merrick shook his head. "No. He overpowered me—nearly killed me, actually—if it weren't for Yuna, the one treating you now."
Hal turned his gaze to Yuna, her hands glowing faintly as she worked on his injuries. "Why are you helping me? Aren't I your enemy? His enemy?"
Yuna responded without looking up, her voice calm. "You may be our enemy, but you showed honor. You aided Merrick against that man, and we respect your integrity."
"I didn't need your help. My followers were supposed to back me up."
"They can't do that anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"Look over there."
Hal followed her gesture and froze. His two subordinates lay motionless—dead.
They had stepped in when they saw Emilio attacking their master. They'd tried to protect Hal but were slain with disturbing ease, like insects swatted aside. Their deaths delayed Emilio just enough for Yuna to save Merrick while he was busy fighting Hal's aides.
Merrick looked at Hal with a grim expression. "The man who interrupted our duel… he's the one who did this."
Hal nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Yes. I recognize the wounds—they were made by that jagged star blade of his."
"Exactly. We could've let you die. Your followers are gone. No one would have helped you. But we chose mercy. There's still a fragment of good in you, after all."
Hal fell silent for a moment. Then Merrick added, "That masked man who interrupted us—he showed me his face. He's one of the elite of the Fighter Class."
He then revealed Emilio's severed head to Hal. The latter sat up, approaching slowly, his fingers brushing against the lifeless face.
"He really is Emilio—one of the Fighter Division elite. He lost his arm in an earlier battle, which explains the gloves."
"That was me," Merrick said quietly. "I severed his arm."
"So that's why he came here," Hal muttered. "He wanted revenge."
"Yes. He hated me so much he preferred to torture me before killing me."
"That sounds like him. He despised being mocked or bested."
"Well, he's dead now. It's over."
"I doubt he came alone."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. If he planned to interfere with the National Division, he'd need help to avoid detection."
"But if he had allies, why didn't they come to his aid?"
"I don't know. Maybe Emilio came for revenge, but his partners had a different goal—that seems more likely."
"You may be right. But what would their goal be?"
"No idea."
The question lingered in all their minds—Yuna, Merrick, and Hal—Did Emilio have allies? And if so… what did they want?
Meanwhile, Chris found himself in dire straits. His weapon had been taken by Kuro, who now held it in his hands, grinning mockingly.
"Nice weapon," Kuro said. "Shame you won't be able to use it again. I can control it now—it's just metal, after all."
"Shut up!" Chris snarled, launching ice spikes at him.
Kuro summoned a wall of electrified metal to block the attack. But Chris leapt high over the wall and came down with waves of water. Kuro countered once again—this time with the chain that connected his four manacles.
He and Chris stepped apart, tension building.
Kuro possessed five manacles linked by chains. One of them was now wrapped tightly around Chris's weapon, locking it down. A stone heir's weapon could rival elemental power—but ultimately, it came down to tactics and mastery. The right combination of weapon and element was the key to victory.
Back in the battle, Chris was clearly struggling. The loss of his weapon gave Kuro a massive advantage.
Kuro launched another attack, casting the four manacles around Chris, surging them with electricity. Chris tried to dodge, leaping high, then encased himself in a watery shield. But it was useless. Fused weapons—element plus steel—were stronger than either alone. The manacles pierced the shield, struck his body, and wrapped around his arms and legs.
Chris crashed to the ground, bound and twitching.
Kuro approached him with a cruel smile.
"Finally caught you," he mocked.
Chris glared at the manacles, then at Kuro standing above him. "You look pleased with yourself."
"Of course. You've been a pain. But now it's over. Time to die."
Kuro began channeling electricity through the manacles, ready to finish Chris—when he suddenly winced, slashed across his right side.
Chris's axe had struck him.
Earlier, Chris had discreetly frozen his axe during their scuffle, allowing Kuro to believe it had been shattered. Chris had then manipulated it remotely, guiding it with his eyes, embedding what ice power he could into its core. It had been a trap.
Kuro growled, turning to see the weapon that had wounded him. "Impressive," he admitted. "You pulled that off even in your condition… clever."
"I had to," Chris said through gritted teeth.
"Still, you'll die. But at least I'll use your precious axe to do it. Smile for me."
"You bastard."
Kuro raised the axe, ready to decapitate him—but someone appeared in front of Chris, blocking the blow with a glowing shield.
It was Yuna.
She had used Luna's blood again for instant teleportation, appearing just in time to save Chris. Kuro recognized her face and froze. She is like a sister to him—after all, they had spent part of their childhood together.
He stepped back, lowering his weapon.
Elsewhere, Salvador's battle had ended in unexpected defeat. Despite their equal strategies, Siran had overwhelmed her in raw power and was ready to deliver the killing blow—until Merrick intervened, striking with waves of water to force Siran back.
"This fight doesn't concern you," she snapped. "You should be fighting two others, not interfering here."
"Really?" Merrick replied.
"Didn't we agree to a certain structure from the start?"
"Yes, but your side has backup. If one of you loses, your followers step in to save you. We don't have that luxury. When we lose—we die. Does that seem fair to you?"
Siran fell silent.
"I'm not here to fight," Merrick added. "I came to talk."
"You think I'll just sit down and chat with you? Dream on."
A voice interrupted them.
"Listen to him first, Siran."
She turned to the speaker—Hal.
Her expression turned to disbelief. "What the hell is going on?"
"We'll explain," Hal replied.
At a distance, Joey and Caesar watched Jayden and his allies from afar. Both Jayden and William had been affected by a mysterious power.
"What's happening to Durbin and the masked one?" Joey asked.
"It's called the Disorder Ability," Caesar answered. "A rare power that disrupts the opponent's control over their weapons and powers with just one touch."
"Scary ability."
"Indeed. That's why the National Division is so powerful. They've got both the Disorder wielder… and the Binding wielder."
"The Binding Ability? What's that?"
"Forget it. Let's focus on killing Durbin."
Joey drew his bazooka-like weapon.
"You're quick to act," Caesar noted. "Eager to finish things."
"I want Durbin dead. I'll load two missiles—both infused with fire. One to break through the distortion barrier, and the other to finish him off."
"I see. Smart."
Joey took aim—but just before firing, a sonic wave surged toward them. Both he and Caesar leapt back in surprise.
They turned toward the source—Tristan Danson stood a short distance away.
"Well, well," Caesar smirked. "Tristan Danson… there you are."
"Yes, in the flesh," Tristan replied.
"I was wondering why you hadn't shown up until now…maybe you just want to watch the battles "
" I remember your face well. You're one of the Fighter Division elite."
Tristan recognized Caesar too—from a past mission to rescue Rin. He could tell these two weren't here with good intentions—especially after seeing Joey target Jayden with a bazooka.
"You got that right," Caesar admitted.
Tristan : "So why are you here? I thought your kind didn't mix with the National Division."
"You're mistaken. I'm not here to help the National Division. I have another goal."
"And that is?"
Joey cut in. "To kill Jayden Durbin."
"Jayden? Why him?"
"That's none of your business. Just prepare to die."
Joey fired both missiles. Tristan vanished in an instant, reappearing above them and swinging his wind-powered sawblade. Caesar blocked it with his electrified sword.
Tristan backed away as the two enemies whispered to each other.
Caesar : "Joey, go kill Durbin. I'll take care of Danson."
Joey : "Yes, sir."
Joey leapt away, but Tristan tried to follow—only for Caesar to strike him with a lightning bolt. Tristan blocked it with a whirl of wind, then teleported to attack Caesar. Their weapons clashed, element versus element—perfectly matched.
Both stepped back. It was clear—Caesar would not let Tristan pursue Joey, who had already vanished.
Tristan raised his sawblade to the sky, charging his ultimate technique. Wind, compressed gas, and sonic energy formed glowing orbs along the blade's edge—small, but deadly.
Caesar also lifted his sword, calling lightning from the clouds, swirling around his weapon.
Both unleashed their techniques simultaneously.
When the dust cleared, the result was a tie.
Tristan collapsed to the ground, wounded and exhausted. So was Caesar.
But despite everything, Tristan forced himself to rise, trembling with pain.
He knew the fight was a draw—Caesar wouldn't attack again.
But he had to catch Joey—or at the very least, warn Jayden.
The question was… would he make it in time?