The sound rang out like a baseball cracking off a bat in a stadium. They landed almost simultaneously—Kaela first, then Dante, crouched low, weapon at the ready.
Blood trickled down Kaela's temple, but she remained standing. Just before the strike had landed, she had activated her shield component—mitigating the damage.
After hitting the ground, Kaela staggered back a few steps but didn't fall. She stayed standing at a short distance, taking a defensive stance. Dante, meanwhile, was still regaining his balance and hadn't been able to strike again.
Kaela stood there, looking at him. Her expression was strange—unfamiliar. Dante had never seen a look quite like that before. Was that... excitement?
"Dante, huh? You did pretty well. I really enjoyed this fight," she said, smiling—brightly and genuinely. Blood streamed down from her forehead like a crimson ribbon slashing across her cheek. If this were a horror film, she would've looked terrifying.
"Huh?" Dante blinked, momentarily thrown off. The compliment hit harder than expected. He accepted it, but his mind reeled.
'You enjoy fighting that much? That's… a bit surprising.'
Dante didn't know what to say to that. 'She's strange. No—she's always been strange since I first saw her. I just didn't know how exactly. Maybe all girls from the Kingdom of Varkaal are this weird. Especially when they're talking with blood running down their face like that. Looks straight out of a nightmare scene.'
He turned to her and asked bluntly, "Hey, Kaela. Is everyone from the Kingdom of Varkaal like you? Or are you just the weird one?"
Kaela wiped the blood from her face, her smile fading. Then, calmly, she sheathed her blade once more—readying for another draw-cut.
'What? Come on, don't make this socially awkward again. Seriously, what a weirdo. Mannn...'
Dante felt a flicker of unease. Was she upset by my offhand question?
His heart skipped a beat. Her emotional shift set off alarms in his mind.
'Is she going to kill me? She's serious again. I have to be careful.'
He tightened his grip and stared her down. 'This is bad. She's not going to repeat the same mistake. She'll back me into a corner again—wait for a clear opening. She's going to force me to act first.'
But this time, he had data—he had seen her blade's speed. 'Her draw isn't as terrifying now that I've measured its timing. Still, if I slip up, I could lose my head.' He recalled the gruesome match yesterday, when someone had been decapitated on the arena floor. The man had survived thanks to emergency medical components, but Dante doubted his soul would recover from that experience.
He glanced at Kaela and began recalculating his approach. 'Defending won't work here. I nearly got sliced doing that before. Why would I assume she'd miss next time?'
'This time, I attack first. I've already figured out part of her blade's path and speed. I can do this.' He steeled himself.
With sudden determination, he launched forward, swinging his metal bat straight at her head.
Kaela gripped the hilt of her sheathed sword with her left hand, and at the exact moment, she drew with a blinding flash.
'His attacks are incredibly precise—dodging them is nearly impossible,' Kaela thought. 'He's agile too. But I'll land a hit this time—my speed is greater.' Her eyes burned with resolve as she activated her component.
Kaela: Weapon Infuse: Sharpness.
Her katana gleamed with condensed cutting essence as she slashed horizontally—a strike nearly impossible to evade.
But Dante had predicted it.
He twisted his bat into the path of the slash. The uninfused metal bat shrieked as it clashed with her blade, sparks flying—the sharp edge slicing deep and splintering it with a screech like tearing steel.
At that instant, Dante stepped in and delivered a brutal, well-aimed kick toward her sword arm, interrupting the cut.
Kaela's eyes widened in shock, but she released the katana just in time to avoid the impact.
Without hesitation, Dante snatched the katana midair, yanked it free from the wreckage of his bat, and held it steady—eyes ablaze with adrenaline and resolve.
He stood there now: right hand gripping the ruined metal bat, left hand wielding Kaela's own katana. He smiled at her.
"So, why don't you surrender, Kaela? I've taken your weapon," he said with a triumphant grin. 'Victory's formula is complete. This is it, right? You'll give up now?'
Kaela stared at him, her face unreadable. Then, slowly, she smiled—not with defeat, but with excitement. "You're impressive—to push me this far. But now… I'll fight with everything I have."
She lowered into a crouch, focusing all her strength into her legs like a hunting leopard about to pounce.
Dante's confident grin vanished. He didn't fear her—but each passing second brought a heavier, almost crushing pressure.
'Should I strike first again?' he wondered. Then shook his head. 'No... she's preparing something big. I can feel it from her emotions. It's not a bluff.'
And emotions never lie.
'Another power spike? Third phase? Damn it, what now?'
Kaela didn't draw any new weapons from thin air—but that somehow made it worse. The silence before her next move screamed danger.
After several seconds of tense buildup, Kaela exploded forward.
Dante had anticipated the charge. In one motion, he aimed the tip of the katana toward her path, forcing her to dodge at the last second and veer to his side—barely grazing past him.
It caught him off guard.
'That thrust should've landed. Even if it didn't pierce her, it should've clipped her—but she dodged, purely on speed and instinct.' For the first time in the fight, Kaela had outpaced his predictions. That didn't sit well with him.
'This just got worse.'
Suddenly, Kaela began running circles around the arena—her speed escalating rapidly. She kept flashing across his vision, each pass quicker than the last.
Dante's mind went into overdrive. He drove the katana into the ground, clearing one distraction so he could track her better.
His face was tense—eyes darting, sweat building.
'Can I survive this?'
The air grew heavy, a howling silence wrapping around the arena like a coiled predator. Dust lifted with every footfall, and Kaela's silhouette became a blur—a ghost flickering at the edge of sight.
Dante knew it.
The real strike was coming.
And it would be faster than anything he'd faced so far.