The first part of the clash was already exciting; the collision of spear against swords at high speed is always a great spectacle, especially when both people have an innate talent in controlling their respective weapons.
I crouch to dodge the tip of his spear—it was aimed straight at my forehead. I can’t wait long; instantly, I have to twist my body to the side to evade a spear of light coming from my back.
Saule doesn’t have it easy either. He has to use the shaft of his spear to block my left sword; with a quick motion, he blocks my other sword as well, but ends up in an uncomfortable position. A Joyeuse appears from his side, taking advantage of the moment. He can’t fully avoid it and forces his body to move sideways—my blade leaves a slight cut on his arm.
Most of the cuts seem superficial; sometimes they only graze our bodies after breaking through our protections. The audience will think we’re not being affected—Saule and I would disagree.
My swords contain an incredible amount of mana from many affinities. Saule not only has to deal with death mana, capable of devouring everything around it if not controlled, but also electricity and ice, both trying to wreak havoc inside his body.
I’m not free from damage either. The yellow boy’s affinity is extremely offensive. I don’t understand how light—something that should bring hope—is trying to cut and pierce deeper with every attack I receive.
We both have strong willpower; our Imra is enough to fight off the aftereffects of both sides. But being strong doesn’t mean we’re equal. My Imra is far more powerful than his—I can eliminate the aftereffects of his attacks faster and force him to spend more time focused on removing the residual damage from my cuts.
Throughout the entire tournament, I haven’t found a participant with an Imra stronger than mine. Some may have more precise control or perhaps cover more area, but none could defeat me in a direct duel.
My Imra is heavily influenced by my stubborn will to never give up, and it has taken on many properties of my death affinity. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence that I died and assimilated this body—my Imra is highly compatible with both my death and life affinities.
A cut tears across my cheek and splits part of my ear in half. He’s adapting quickly, evolving during the fight. His attacks have fewer unnecessary movements; his body is reacting along the most optimal path.
I’m not the only one injured in this exchange. A Joyeuse pierces into that same thigh as always. I’ve been targeting that leg every chance I get—now I’m seeing the results.
Saule is avoiding putting his full weight on that leg. He’s spending more light mana to keep it stable, and he can no longer control the blood pouring from his wounds. And those aren’t the only injuries he has to worry about—his entire body is bleeding.
I may appear to be in much better condition, but I can’t heal as quickly as I usually do because I’m focused on too many things at once. I’m only dealing with the most lethal wounds, while the smaller ones are healing slowly, even though I’ve received more injuries than I can currently heal.
At first glance, I’m in a better state—and I am, but only for one reason: my mana pool is larger. I can afford to use life mana to close every wound in my body.
His spear fills with light mana once again. Each strike becomes heavier, while others are extremely fast with little weight—he’s varying the use of his affinity somehow. His control over this ability is perfect.
I can see a thin line of blood coming from his nose. This isn’t from any attack of mine—he’s pushed his own body to the limit. My body screams that something bad is coming; my instincts activate in response to imminent danger.
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The spear in front of my eyes becomes blurry—even my brain takes a moment to process it. When I realize, the spear is already below, tracing a semi-vertical/diagonal cut meant to split my body in half.
Luckily, my instincts warned me a moment before. All the gravity mana in my body explodes, forcing my body to move in a burst of power. I feel my left arm get torn apart, and part of my body takes damage.
His spear disappears again due to its speed—part of my body is sent flying through the air. If I had reacted even a moment later, that attack would have ended the fight; the protection bracelet would have activated mid-strike.
His slash severed my already injured arm—the same arm I used as leverage to escape his attack.
I look into his eyes. I can clearly see his consciousness fading little by little—he used almost all his energy in that strike. He chose to go all in.
I take advantage of his poor position to attack. My sword meets almost no resistance on the first cut—I separate his body from his left leg. A Joyeuse strikes from behind, piercing near his right knee; the force of the blow knocks him to the ground.
I’m surprised when I feel his spear move straight toward my heart. He hasn’t lost his fighting spirit—he’s still trying.
Since I’m already in motion, it’s difficult to dodge, so I decide to face it head-on. His thrust doesn’t have as much strength as before; with my armor, I manage to endure just enough time to shift my body, and his spear pierces into my shoulder.
I strike again with my only sword—his arm detaches from his body, and he loses control of his spear. A Joyeuse appears near my leg; I kick it, and it gets embedded into his stomach.
Now his consciousness is truly at its limit. I make a quick downward motion, cutting off his remaining arm. The force itself makes me spin on my axis; as my body comes around for another attack, I have to release my sword and propel myself sideways using gravity.
He seems unconscious, and a bright shield is covering his entire body.
I hit the ground with a dull thud, then stand up with a quick movement. Almost my entire body hurts—every part has suffered injuries I haven’t had time to heal due to the difficulty of my opponent.
The noise of the crowd reaches my ears—whistles, shouts, applause. “I’ve won…” I let myself fall to the ground; my butt hits the sand. I relax every muscle and let my life mana take over.
Saule’s point of view:
When I open my eyes, a harsh reality hits me: I’ve lost. I see Maki sitting in front of me, eyes closed, apparently meditating or thinking about something.
The feelings inside me are completely different from what I expected. I don’t feel frustration or anger at losing—I feel blank, and at the same time as if I’m about to be painted with many colors at once.
I’m a little happy to have lost. Maki has just opened my eyes to the fact that even among limit breakers, there are differences. Before, it never crossed my mind that I could lose to someone of my own rank—or if I did, it would be by a minimal margin.
Seeing him almost healed, watching his wounds slowly close, is a wake-up call. He surpasses me in several aspects, but the most surprising is his swordsmanship. I’ve never seen someone master dual weapons at that level. Since I was a child, my parents have searched for talented people to test me—and none of them come close to Maki.
I’ve never felt so oppressed by someone in a simple weapon duel. His movements are perfect—always ready and attentive to react to any kind of attack, his body always in the most optimal position… simply marvelous.
“Are you going to keep staring at me all day?” I can see a smile on his lips. How did he notice? His eyes are closed… now I understand. He has a very peculiar sensory ability—he doesn’t need sight. It makes sense why so many of my strikes missed.
“It’s hard to look elsewhere if I can’t move.” My legs are healing quickly, but I’ll have to use mana to create some kind of prosthetic to walk.
“That last strike was magnificent. If I had hesitated for even a moment, I would have lost—I wouldn’t have had any way to defend against that speed and power.” Maki opens his eyes and looks at me with a hint of admiration.
“I had to bet everything at that moment. If we had continued in that back-and-forth, I would’ve lost anyway.” As long as he can heal and surpass me in certain aspects, it was only a matter of time before my defeat.
Maki stands up, brushes some dirt off his body using his Imra, and offers me a hand. I do the same and add a leg of light to stand up. It’s a bit uncomfortable to walk, but I don’t want to look ridiculous asking for help.
“I know it’s a bit late for introductions. I’m Saule, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I say as I shake his hand.
“I’m Maki, nice to meet you too. I hope we can be friends.” At that moment, I realized—a great friendship is about to be born.