The commentator shouted,"On the left side, there is Silas from the Ardyn Clan! And from the other side, there's Jerek from the Vance Clan! Let's see who will come out on top today!"
A rain of applause followed from the audience.
The arena, about half the size of a football field, buzzed with anticipation. From the left emerged Jerek Vance, his face twisted in anger. From the other side walked out Silas Ardyn, his expression calm, a confident smile on his face.
"So, I'm not going to keep you all waiting any longer! The match between Silas Ardyn and Jerek Vance... begins now!"
The two combatants charged at each other with blinding speed. Jerek made the first move, drawing his whipblade and launching it forward. The sword extended with impressive reach, slashing directly at Silas. But Silas fought empty-handed, evading each attack with smooth sidesteps—again and again.
The fight continued, the commentator's voice echoing around the arena, mixing with the scattered applause from the crowd.
Jerek swung his whipblade effortlessly, making it seem like an extension of his own body. His slashes danced like an art form in motion. Meanwhile, his opponent did nothing but dodge—graceful, controlled, relentless dodging.
'I wonder how he uses that whipblade like it's part of him? Isn't that thing supposed to only exist in fiction?' Dante thought. The whipblade was a notoriously difficult weapon—impractical for most normal fighters.
Silas kept dodging—until he couldn't. Jerek's strategy was paying off. If the opponent keeps evading, corner them. Limit their space and force them to take the hit. A classic textbook move.
"Got you!" Jerek grinned, baring his teeth as he forced Silas into the corner of the arena.
"Die!" he shouted, withdrawing his sword and channeling power from his entire body. Sparks crackled around him as he thrust the blade forward.
But his attack missed. It smashed into the concrete wall behind Silas, piercing it like butter and leaving a small explosion and a gaping hole.
A moment before the impact, Silas had bent down to dodge in a motion that defied human logic. It was like watching a snake—twisting with fluid grace, defying gravity. To the crowd, it looked like he simply lay down and slid out of the corner. But how could anyone move that fast while laying flat? No one even saw him move his hands.
Silas stood up and threw a punch at Jerek, who recovered quickly from his missed attack. Despite the blow, Jerek retaliated with a powerful back kick.
Silas raised his hand to block it, but the force of the strike sent him flying. Yet strangely, his back never hit the ground. An invisible force stopped him mid-air and gently lifted him back to his feet—another gravity-defying move.
Dante stared, stunned.'What just happened? How can he do that? Is it some kind of psychic power?'
Then he noticed something odd. Jerek had been swinging his sword around in the air for a while. Was he doing it just to look cool?
"That guy, Silas... he can levitate or fly. But I wonder why he's not using it for height advantage. Maybe it costs him too much energy?" a nearby female voice said.
Dante turned to his right. One seat away sat a tall girl with reddish-brown hair and a muscular build. She radiated strength—solid and confident. He wasn't sure how to describe it, but her presence felt powerful.'Right, every woman with muscles must be strong,' he thought.Her name was—yes, Kaela. A girl from somewhere called the Frontier.
"Hello there. Nice to meet you, uh—Kaela. Are you a combatant too, like them?" Dante asked.
Suddenly, the crowd roared. On the arena floor, Silas had just performed a flawless backflip to evade another strike.
"Ohh! Look at that! A backflip!" Solène shouted excitedly from somewhere nearby, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
'Ugh, for real? They actually did it,' Dante thought, raising both hands to his face in disbelief.
He turned back to Kaela, who looked close to his age. He gave her an awkward wave, trying to restart the conversation, but couldn't bring himself to repeat what he'd said.
Kaela didn't respond. She simply kept watching the fight, unmoved.
'Ugh, that stings. She didn't care. But… maybe I'm used to that,' Dante thought, a bit deflated.
Still, the match was too captivating to dwell on that feeling for long. Dante turned back to the arena.
Silas dodged another strike. But this time, Jerek spun around, letting the whipblade's sharp point swing behind him in a surprise attack from the back. It was fast—too fast—and Silas couldn't dodge.
He was hit on the hand.
But to the crowd's surprise, a shimmering barrier flared up and absorbed the blow.
"Ohh! A direct hit! Silas is forced to use his barrier! That's going to drain his energy—he must be running low now!" the commentator called out.
"Woahhh!" the audience shouted, followed by another round of clapping.
'Whoa... that shield ability is cool, but it uses energy too? How curious,' Dante thought. He began to notice something had changed in the fight. Silas was moving his hands more and more, and Jerek kept swinging his sword through the air.
'Wait… are they fighting something invisible?' the thought struck Dante suddenly. And as the battle continued, his suspicion only grew stronger.
Jerek kept up the pressure—charging forward, swinging wildly, trying more surprise attacks. But none of them worked. Some came close… but then he'd randomly stumble back as if something had hit him.
Dante couldn't figure it out—until the moment everything changed.
Jerek lost his patience and charged again, recklessly. Silas, however, remained still. Calm. He slowly swung his hand through the air.
Then, without warning, Jerek's leg jerked—he stumbled, losing balance and crashing forward onto the ground. He caught himself, pushing off the floor to stand again, ready to resume the fight.
But Silas simply stood there. Smiling.
"Don't you see it, Jerek? The match is already over."
Somehow, everyone in the arena heard Silas speak—clear as day, despite his calm and quiet tone.
'What? It's over? How? But… how did Jerek fall? I didn't see him get hit by anything!' Dante thought, overwhelmed by confusion.
It was clear now. Silas was using some kind of invisible weapon.