Steel sang.
Luke's blade met Drace's katana in a shower of sparks, the impact ringing across the ruined street like a bell.
"Not bad!" Luke grinned, disengaging and spinning into a horizontal slash.
Drace sidestepped casually, the toothpick still dangling from his mouth. "Your form's decent. For an amateur."
"Amateur?!" Luke's eye twitched. "I'll show you amateur—"
He lunged forward, blade flashing in rapid strikes—high, low, diagonal—each one trailing faint golden light.
Drace parried every single one with minimal movement, katana flowing like water, green eyes tracking Luke's patterns with lazy precision.
"Predictable," Drace commented, deflecting another strike. "You telegraph with your shoulders."
"I TELEGRAPH WITH YOUR FACE!"
Luke channeled mantra into his blade and swung upward in a massive arc.
"Shatter Slice!"
A crescent of golden energy erupted from his sword, tearing through the air with a sound like reality splitting, carving a trench into the street as it screamed toward Drace.
Drace's eyes sharpened.
"Oh."
He raised his katana, green energy igniting along the blade's edge.
"Phantom Cleave."
He slashed.
A single, massive wave of green energy launched forward, twice the size of Luke's attack, humming with compressed power.
The two crescents collided mid-air.
BOOM.
The shockwave detonated outward, shattering every window within thirty meters, sending cars skidding sideways, cracking the street in a perfect circle around the impact point.
Golden and green energy ground against each other, sparks flying, neither yielding—
Then both attacks exploded simultaneously, consuming the street in blinding light.
When the dust cleared—
Luke and Drace stood on opposite sides of a ten-meter crater, both breathing slightly harder.
Luke grinned, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Okay. That was cool."
Drace adjusted the toothpick with his tongue. "You're stronger than you look."
"Yeah? Well you're more annoying than YOU look!"
"...That doesn't make sense."
"YOUR FACE DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!"
Drace blinked. "Are you twelve?"
Luke charged again.
They clashed in the center of the street—blade against blade, sparks flying with every strike, footwork mirroring each other almost perfectly.
Luke twisted left—Drace countered.
Drace thrust forward—Luke deflected.
Back and forth, neither giving ground, steel screaming between them.
"You know," Drace said casually mid-exchange, "for someone who talks this much, you're actually not terrible."
"STOP COMPLIMENTING ME WHILE TRYING TO BEAT ME!"
Luke disengaged, leapt backward, and swung again—
"Shatter Slice!"
Another golden crescent tore forward.
Drace didn't even flinch.
He walked through it—katana raised, green energy flaring—and split the attack down the middle with a single precise cut.
The crescent halved and dissipated harmlessly on either side of him.
Luke's jaw dropped. "You just—DID YOU JUST CUT MY ATTACK IN HALF?!"
"Yes."
"THAT'S NOT FAIR!"
"Life rarely is."
Drace closed the distance in an instant and swung low.
Luke barely blocked, the impact rattling his arms.
"You rely too much on that technique," Drace said, pressing the attack. "What happens when it doesn't work?"
"THIS!"
Luke headbutted him.
CRACK.
Drace stumbled backward, genuinely surprised. "Did you just—"
"YEAH I DID!" Luke swung wildly. "STOP ANALYZING ME AND FIGHT!"
Drace grinned, wiping his nose. "Alright then."
He moved.
Faster than before—a blur of motion and green light—katana flashing in a dozen strikes per second.
Luke met every single one, blade singing, mantra flaring, teeth gritted.
Their clash sent them careening down the street, rebounding off walls, spinning around lampposts, sparks trailing like fireflies.
Then—
Luke's foot caught rubble.
He stumbled.
Just for half a second—
Drace's katana came down.
Luke twisted desperately, blade raised—
CLANG.
The impact sent Luke flying backward, tumbling through the air before crashing through the glass entrance of a half-collapsed office building.
He rolled across tile, came up coughing, sword still in hand.
"Ow..."
Footsteps echoed.
Drace walked through the shattered entrance casually, katana resting on his shoulder, toothpick still somehow perfectly angled in his mouth.
"Running inside?" Drace asked. "Cute."
Luke stood, breathing hard. "Not running. Relocating."
"Sure."
Luke charged.
The fight exploded inside the building.
They tore through cubicles, sparks flying as blades met between office chairs and broken desks. Luke vaulted over a conference table—Drace cut it in half mid-leap. Luke rebounded off a support column—Drace's katana carved a chunk from it.
Tighter quarters.
Faster exchanges.
No room for big attacks—just pure skill, speed, reflexes.
Luke spun around a pillar and struck from the blind side—
Drace blocked without looking.
"You're getting predictable again."
"STOP SAYING THAT!"
Luke feinted left, went right, channeled mantra into a point-blank slash—
Drace caught the blade between two fingers.
Luke's eyes widened. "HOW—"
Drace flicked the sword aside and drove his palm into Luke's chest.
BOOM.
Luke was launched backward, crashing through a wall into another office section, landing hard among scattered papers and broken keyboards.
He groaned. "Okay... that one hurt."
Drace stepped through the hole in the wall, perfectly calm.
"You're talented," he said. "But talent without discipline is just wasted potential."
Luke forced himself up, glaring. "And you talk too much for someone who hasn't won yet."
"Haven't I?"
"NO!"
Luke swung his blade in a wide arc, golden energy flooding the steel.
Drace raised an eyebrow.
Then noticed.
The toothpick in his mouth—
—was shorter.
Luke had cut the tip off during that last exchange.
Drace blinked.
Looked at the toothpick.
Then at Luke.
Luke grinned. "Got you."
For a moment, Drace just stared.
Then—
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out another toothpick.
Casually removed the old one.
Put the new one in his mouth.
Tilted it to the exact same angle as before.
And smiled.
"Nice try."
Luke's grin disappeared. "...Are you SERIOUS right now?!"
"Always."
"WHO CARRIES BACKUP TOOTHPICKS?!"
"Prepared people."
"THAT'S NOT—YOU KNOW WHAT—"
Luke roared and charged again, blade glowing brighter than before.
Drace met him head-on.
They clashed in the center of the room—CRACK—the impact cratered the floor beneath them.
Both pushed.
Neither gave ground.
"You're stubborn," Drace said.
"You're annoying!" Luke shot back.
"I've been called worse."
"GIVE ME FIVE MINUTES!"
They disengaged simultaneously, sliding backward across broken tile.
Both breathing harder now.
Both battered.
But neither backing down.
Luke wiped blood from his lip. "Alright. No more playing around."
Drace's grin widened. "Finally."
Luke raised his sword high, mantra flooding into the blade until it screamed with barely contained power. Golden energy spiraled upward, tearing through the ceiling, sending debris raining down.
"SHATTER—"
Drace's katana ignited with green fire, energy coiling along the edge like a living serpent. The air itself distorted around the blade, pressure building, building—
"PHANTOM—"
Both swung.
"—SLICE!"
"—CLEAVE!"
Golden crescent.
Green wave.
Both attacks launched simultaneously, tearing through the building's interior, ripping walls apart, shattering support beams—
The two energies collided mid-air.
BOOOOM—Kael walked forward slowly.
Flames spiraled around both arms now, red and orange threads weaving into living patterns that distorted the air with heat.
Sora forced himself upright, legs shaking, vision swimming.
"I can't give up."
He charged with pure and desperate will.
Golden energy flooded his right fist—everything he had left, every ounce of mantra, every fragment of consciousness—compressed into a single point.
"PLATINUM—"
Kael's red eyes tracked him calmly.
"—PUNCH!"
Sora swung with everything.His fist blazed golden, trailing light, the air screaming—
Kael raised one hand.
Caught it.
Palm met fist.
The shockwave rippled outward, cracking the street, but—
Kael didn't budge.Not even an inch.
Sora's eyes widened.
"He... caught it?"
Kael's grip tightened around Sora's fist.
"You gave everything," Kael said quietly. "I respect that."
He pulled Sora forward slightly.
"But it's not enough."
Kael's other hand—wreathed in surgical flames—drove into Sora's stomach.
His vision whited out. His lungs collapsed. His consciousness flickered like a dying flame.
Then—Kael threw him..He hurled Sora backward with enough force to send him tearing through the air, spinning uncontrollably before slamming into a half-collapsed building.
CRASH.
Concrete exploded. Steel bent. The entire structure groaned.
Sora's body hit the ground inside, tumbling across broken tile and shattered glass before finally coming to rest against a support pillar.
Blood pooled beneath him. His breathing was shallow, irregular. His golden energy—gone. Completely extinguished.
Outside, Kael lowered his hand, flames dissipating slowly.
He stared at the building where Sora had disappeared.
Kael's expression didn't change.
He slipped his hands back into his pockets and turned away.
"It's over."