The silence after Sena fell was profound.
For a long moment, the arena seemed caught in stillness—like the hush between lightning and thunder.
Then the flare of light began to dim, and the crescent shimmer of Orion's Lunar shield dispersed into motes of silver, flickering down like falling snow. His breath came in slow, controlled waves, Lunaris still lowered, the blade's edge steaming from residual heat.
Sena groaned, the weight of defeat settling into her body like ash. She pushed herself upright with trembling arms, her crimson aura flickering like a dying flame.
"Well fought," she muttered, her voice hoarse but proud.
Orion turned to her, offering a hand.
She blinked at it for a heartbeat before clasping it. He pulled her to her feet with a strength that was steady, but not overbearing.
"You could've beaten me," he said quietly. "If I hesitated once more… I think you would have."
Sena's lips curved into a breathless smile. "Maybe. But I knew I'd need more than fury to break the moon." She glanced at the scorched ground behind him. "That last move—Moonveil? It was… beautiful."
Orion nodded. "And Crimson Requiem… was terrifying."
They both chuckled softly, bruised but respectful. There was no animosity here—only the acknowledgment of strength. Two warriors who had crossed blades and burned bright, if only for a moment.
Sena straightened, adjusting the collar of her singed tunic. "You're not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"A quiet boy too in love with his star," she replied, flashing a crooked grin. "But you're the moon that moves the tide… Not the one who hides behind clouds."
Orion blinked, unsure whether to be flattered or confused.
"Don't let them smother you in silence, Child of Moonlight," she added, then turned and limped away toward the healer's ward.
He stood there, letting her words settle inside him like ripples over still water.
From the stands, the tension shattered into chaos.
Cheers, whistles, and claps erupted in waves. Some students stared in stunned silence, others exchanged coin purses with groans of defeat. Many hadn't expected Orion to win—certainly not with such control.
"He beat Sena?!"
"No way! She went full Crimson Requiem!"
"Did you see that Lunar parry?! That wasn't just power, that was precision."
"I told you," one boy in House Noxshade said smugly, flipping a coin. "The Moon's more dangerous than it looks."
From the betting ring, a girl muttered, "I've lost my week's allowance…"
Further up, a trio of older Starbound watched with more analytical eyes.
"He's still rough around the edges," one muttered, "but that swordwork—damn. He's no amateur."
"And the restraint," another added. "He could've struck when Sena faltered, but didn't. That's someone trained in control, not just instinct."
Meanwhile, Orion's cohort leaned on the railing, each reacting in their own way.
Serah, arms crossed, smirked. "He held back. You could tell."
Azrael nodded slightly, shadows flickering near his fingertips. "But he knew how to hold back. That's the hard part."
Iris clutched the railing. "He's getting stronger," she said softly, voice filled with something close to awe. "And not just in power… but in presence."
"He needs to be," Azrael murmured. "The others aren't playing safe anymore."
Behind them, murmurs began rising through the crowd again as the dome faded entirely and the marble platform at the center began to rotate. The Starbound instructor stepped forward, his robe trailing stardust as he lifted a hand.
"The next match," he called, voice echoing across the arena, "will take place tomorrow morning at second bell."
He paused as the bracket shimmered behind him, illuminating two new names:
Talon of the Ardent Blades vs Azrael of the Eclipse Cohort
Gasps scattered through the crowd like sparks.
"No way—they're making Azrael fight him next?!"
"Isn't Talon the one who broke a shield with his bare hands?"
"Azrael's scary though… I heard his last mock battle ended without anyone hearing him move."
"I'd bet on Talon," someone muttered. "Azrael's too quiet. You never know what he's thinking."
"I'd bet on the one who doesn't need to think," said another with a grin. "That iron freak's gonna crush him."
Up in the stands, Serah just cracked her knuckles.
"Azrael's gonna need more than silence to win this one," she muttered.
Orion glanced at Azrael beside him.
The boy's face was unreadable. Still. Calm. Eyes like twin abysses.
But in the faintest flicker of shadow curling at his heel…
The Abyss was already stirring.