Eris kept her composure as she analyzed the situation.
"She aimed for my throat. Yet I didn't feel any killing intent from her. Does she think she can't kill me? Ridiculous. Heroes are strong, but we're not immortal."
She took a deep breath and held herself back.
"It doesn't matter. I can't lose my calm. Fighting someone like her is good training for me. I'll observe her abilities thoroughly. I don't want this duel to end too quickly… so for now, I'll only defend. I won't strike back."
The battle continued.
Anita attacked with both weapons — the short sword in her right hand and the knife in her left danced through the air. Her movements were so fast that dust began to swirl around her. The spectators gasped with every strike.
Eris blocked everything.
Everything.
Even the tricky, dirty, unpredictable blows Anita unleashed at the very last moment.
Anita began to feel the pressure of time.
"Damn it! This Hero‑girl can keep up with Feral Mode at base level. I'd say 'as expected of a Hero,' but… is she really this strong?"
Eris still didn't attack.
She only watched. Only analyzed.
"She's not attacking… only defending. Is she not taking me seriously? Time is ticking… once the ten minutes are up, I'll burn out and I'm done for."
Anita clenched her teeth.
"Use your head, Anita. Is there anything you can do to beat her? Well, I'm definitely not beating her with my head…"
Then she suddenly froze for a split second — and something sparked inside her.
"Wait… it might be worth a try."
The spectators had no idea what she was planning, but something new flashed in the Windstorm's eyes — something bold, something reckless, something unmistakably wolf‑like.
The storm was only just beginning.
The fight grew even wilder. Anita's attacks whipped around Eris like the gusts of a raging tempest, but the Hero continued to block them with unshakable calm.
Eris finally spoke, her voice ringing clearly across the Arena:
"You're using the wind element to accelerate yourself. Creative… but there must be a limit to how long you can fight like this. Your swordsmanship isn't anything special. That's probably why you rely on dirty tricks. I won't say you're weak… but you're not worthy of joining the Hero's party. I've seen enough. It's time to end this duel."
Anita stopped for a moment, panting, her pupils wide from Feral Mode.
"She's right! I've entered my final minute. This will be my last attack. All or nothing!"
Then she spoke aloud, her voice dripping with mockery:
"Who the hell would even want to join your Hero party?"
In the royal box, Andras leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"Noelle, get ready," he said quietly but urgently. "Anita will need immediate healing."
Noelle clasped her hands nervously.
"She's going to lose?"
The question hung in the air as Anita moved again — not recklessly this time, but with something entirely different burning in her eyes. The crowd roared, sunlight flashed on steel, and in the next instant the Windstorm hurled herself forward as if the fate of the entire world rested on this single strike.
The storm's final blow was coming.
Anita stood panting but determined, staring down the Hero. Her pupils were still blown wide from Feral Mode, her movements trembling with tension.
"Block this if you can! Wolf Tornado!"
The audience gasped.
Eris had only just shifted from a defensive stance into an offensive one when Anita charged her like an unleashed storm. The Wolf Knight unleashed the same spinning, swirling technique she had used to defeat Apollonia earlier.
With the first strike, Anita tried to knock Eris's longsword aside.
The Hero had expected that.
With the second strike, Anita hooked her knife against her short sword, clamping the two weapons together like a pair of scissors, and forced Eris's blade downward for a brief moment.
Eris spoke coldly, almost bored:
"What do you gain from this? You need both weapons just to hold my sword down. That means you can't use them to attack. All you've bought yourself is a few seconds before I cut you down."
But Anita wasn't relying on her weapons.
She relied on her head.
Literally.
The Wolf Knight slammed her forehead into Eris's face with full force.
The crack echoed across the Arena.
The Hero's nose snapped, and Eris staggered for a heartbeat. The crowd erupted — no one had expected such a brutal, instinctive attack.
Anita seized the moment instantly.
With her knife, she aimed for the Hero's neck, while her short sword kept Eris's blade pinned just enough to prevent a reflexive counter.
But Eris jerked her head aside at the last possible moment.
Instead of her neck, Anita's blade slashed across the Hero's face, carving a long, deep wound.
Eris felt the steel tear through her flesh.
And for a single heartbeat — she felt fear.
That fear triggered an instinctive response.
The Hero poured the majority of her full power into her next strike.
Anita's short sword couldn't withstand the force.
The blade was knocked aside, and Eris's flaming sword carved across Anita's side, leaving a deep, long wound.
The Windstorm was thrown backward and crashed onto the ground, landing on her back.
The female Wolf Knight screamed — a raw, tearing cry that filled the entire Arena. The burning agony of the flaming sword and the depth of the cut ripped through her body at once.
The referee raised his arm.
"The duel is over! The winner: Eris Scarlett, the Hero!"
The spectators rose to their feet, clapping, shouting, celebrating.
But Andras wasn't listening.
In the next instant, he and Noelle appeared beside Anita — using the water‑step technique.
Noelle dropped to her knees immediately and poured healing magic into Anita's body.
The Wolf Knight stopped screaming — but it was impossible to tell whether she had fainted… or if something worse had happened.
The Royal healers rushed over as well, but Andras raised his hand.
"My own healer will treat my knight."
So the royal healers turned toward Eris instead.
Blood streamed from the Hero's broken nose and the deep cut across her face — but she refused their help as well.
Her light‑element self‑healing had already activated.
The bleeding stopped.
Her broken nose would be fully healed by morning.
Even the wound on her face would leave no trace.
But Eris did not celebrate.
She did not raise her sword.
She did not accept the applause.
She simply stood there in silence, watching Anita lying on the ground.
And in her eyes was something few had ever seen from her:
concern.