The Arena Trembles
The arena trembled.
Not from impact.
From expectation.
Shura glanced sideways.
Yura sat beside him, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes reflected the light of the arena — not wild like the others, not screaming.
Watching.
Studying.
For a second, the noise faded.
The crowd blurred.
He forgot where he was.
She sensed it and turned slightly.
Their eyes met.
Shura looked away immediately.
"…Hey," he muttered, forcing his attention back to the field. "Do you know why Zenkyou's banned from competing?"
Yura blinked. "Banned?"
"Yeah. She used to fight here."
"Oh." She shook her head lightly. "It's my first time in the Colosseum."
Shura frowned. "Seriously? Why?"
She hesitated — not out of shame, but habit.
"My parents don't like this place," she said calmly. "They prefer controlled environments."
He glanced at her.
"You mean…?"
"We're very rich," she said with a faint smile. "So I'm meant to stay safe."
A pause.
"In a very beautiful cage."
The words landed softly.
But they weighed.
Shura swallowed.
He almost asked — then how are you here now?
He didn't.
Because for the first time, he realized—
She didn't sneak out.
She chose to come.
Before he could say anything—
The announcer's voice detonated across the Colosseum.
"THE BATTLE HAS BEGUN!"
The First Clash
They moved at the same time.
No hesitation.
No circling.
Ren and the Black Knight closed the distance in three strides.
Steel met steel.
The collision exploded like a thunderclap.
A visible shockwave burst outward, sand flattening in a perfect ring. The lowest tiers rattled. A few nobles instinctively flinched.
Shura felt it in his ribs.
Ren didn't recoil.
He stepped inside the bind and drove his knee forward.
The impact struck the Black Knight's chest plate.
A deep metallic crack echoed.
The Black Knight slid backward — boots carving trenches through sand — before slamming into the arena wall.
The crowd roared.
But the Black Knight didn't fall.
He laughed.
Low.
Distorted through steel.
Using the wall as leverage, he kicked off violently — crossing the arena in a single bound.
His sword descended not vertically—
But diagonally.
A killing angle.
Ren barely adjusted in time.
CLANG.
The force bent his knees.
The sand beneath him cratered.
"Ah—!" Ren snarled, veins standing out along his arms as he redirected the blade sideways.
The Black Knight didn't disengage.
He pressed.
His style wasn't wild.
It was suffocating.
Short, heavy arcs. Minimal wasted motion. Every swing designed to break guard, not test it.
Ren changed rhythm.
Instead of matching strength, he pivoted left and let the next blow skim past his shoulder.
The blade tore through the air behind him and gouged a massive scar across the arena floor.
Ren countered instantly—
A full-body horizontal cleave aimed at the Knight's midsection.
The Black Knight dropped low.
Too low for a man that size.
His armored elbow slammed into Ren's ribs mid-spin.
The sound was dull.
Ren staggered two steps.
The crowd gasped.
This wasn't brute force versus brute force.
This was discipline versus instinct.
Ren grinned through the pain.
"Good," he muttered.
The Black Knight tilted his helm slightly.
"So you're Ossuarium's answer?"
Ren rolled his shoulders once.
"Try harder."
They charged again.
This time faster.
Slash.
Block.
Counter.
Ren leapt high, bringing his blade down in a crushing overhead strike.
The Black Knight caught it with both hands.
The impact drove both of them knee-deep into the sand.
For a heartbeat—
Everything stopped.
Two warriors locked.
Two kingdoms pressing through them.
Yura's fingers tightened against the stone railing.
Shura forgot to breathe.
The Black Knight leaned closer, helm inches from Ren's face.
"Yield."
Ren's eyes sharpened.
He shifted his grip—
Then twisted.
Instead of pushing forward, he dropped backward and dragged the Black Knight off balance with him.
Both crashed into the sand.
The arena exploded with sound.
They rolled apart instantly.
Back on their feet.
Blood now visible at the edge of Ren's mouth.
A faint dent carved into the Knight's chest plate.
The fight hadn't escalated yet.
But it was close.
Very close.
And everyone in the Colosseum could feel it—
The next exchange would decide who controlled the battlefield.