As the arena floor reset and the dome shimmered with cooling magic, murmurs rippled through the crowd—not from the spectators this time, but from the other competitors watching from the viewing tier.
Iris leaned against the railing, eyes narrowing as the announcer called the names. "Serah and Rhett? That's not a match. That's a bloodbath waiting to happen."
Azrael, arms folded, his gaze locked on the field. "Rhett plays with pain. He's not just aiming to win. He'll want her to bleed."
Orion's jaw clenched. "She can handle it."
"You sure?" Iris asked. "She's strong, yeah—but she burns herself when she gets going."
"She doesn't lose control," Orion said, maybe to them, maybe to himself. "She chooses it."
A few seats over, Talon from the Ardent Blades muttered to Mira, "They're letting the wild ones loose early. Should've saved that fire for the finals."
Mira replied, "Serah doesn't care about finals. She cares about impact."
From the Skybound cohort, Cyrus watched with his usual cool detachment. "This one won't be pretty."
Lirael, pale and glass-eyed, whispered, "It'll be loud."
Vel of the Silent Choir said nothing—but his eyes flicked toward Serah's entrance gate, lips slightly parted in anticipation.
"Begin!" the announcer's voice rang out.
Without hesitation, Serah sprang into action, her body a blur of motion. Flames ignited along her arms, licking the air as she charged toward Rhett. Her instincts screamed at her to overwhelm him with raw power.
"Emberburst!" she yelled, unleashing a massive wave of fire, the heat so intense that the air itself shimmered.
Rhett's eyes narrowed, his movements deliberate. He didn't flinch, didn't even take a step back. Instead, he raised his hand, and the thorns from his star, coiling like serpents, reached up from the ground. The flames collided with them, but the thorns absorbed the brunt of the attack, crackling as they burned, but they didn't falter.
Serah's frustration mounted. She'd expected her fire to tear through him, but Rhett was proving to be far more resilient than anticipated. With a growl, she pressed on, diving in close.
Rhett didn't wait for her to strike again. The thorns at his feet surged forward, quick as lightning, aiming to ensnare Serah. He moved with calculated precision, a deadly dance as his thorns lashed out like whips.
Serah barely managed to twist out of the way, feeling one of the thorns graze her side. The pain was sharp, but it only fueled her rage. She spun, launching another fiery strike aimed directly at Rhett's chest.
But again, Rhett was faster. He raised his hand, and the thorns wrapped around his wrist shifted, elongating into a jagged spear that cut through the air. He thrust it toward Serah, forcing her to leap back at the last moment. The sharp edge nicked her arm, blood trickling down her skin.
She hissed in pain but didn't falter. Her resolve burned brighter than the flame she commanded. She rushed forward again, this time with a different strategy.
"Kindling Roar!" she screamed, her voice full of fury. The flames exploded outward, swirling around her like a shield. She used the attack to close the distance between them, her movements now more focused. She would not make the same mistake twice.
Rhett's eyes flickered, a hint of something—perhaps surprise—dancing in their depths. He raised a wall of thorns to protect himself, but Serah, with a fierce growl, pushed through it, slashing with the flames she conjured.
The heat of the flames clashed against the cold of Rhett's thorns, and for a brief moment, the air seemed to freeze in time. Rhett's stance faltered.
Serah felt the burn in her chest intensifying. The fight was wearing her down. Her energy was slipping through her fingers like sand, and she had to finish this—now.
Rhett, ever composed, showed no signs of exhaustion. His control over his thorns was flawless, his every movement deliberate. But Serah could see the faintest crack in his calm.
"Is that all you've got?" Rhett taunted, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.
Serah's anger flared. The taunt pierced her, and for a moment, she lost herself to the heat of her emotions. She charged again, flames burning brighter than ever.
"Emberburst!"
The fire engulfed the battlefield, a torrent of raging heat aimed directly at Rhett. But Rhett's thorns moved quickly, creating a barrier that deflected the flames, though the heat of the attack singed his skin.
He gritted his teeth, his posture becoming a little less rigid.
Serah's vision blurred with sweat, and her breath came in ragged gasps. The fire inside her was still burning, but it was no longer the uncontrollable inferno it had been. She was struggling to stay on her feet. Her movements were slower now, more labored.
Rhett seemed to sense her weakness. His eyes flashed with a predatory gleam, and he raised his hand once more, thorns shooting up from the ground around him. They formed a thick, cage-like structure, designed to trap her.
But before Serah could react, the world around her tilted. Her knees buckled, and she staggered, the weight of the fight pulling her under.
Was this it?
Rhett's thorns were closing in on her. Serah had only moments left to decide—finish the fight, or be finished.