Mirelle cast the artifact's enchantment
Different magic artifacts could have both base abilities and enchantments. Base abilities would always be in play once the artifact was activated and in use, providing constant passive benefits. Enchantments were different. They could be switched on or off at the wielder's discretion, allowing for tactical flexibility and strategic depth in combat
Mirelle now activated the artifact's enchantments, which utilized the thunderdrake's core to allow the sword to generate lightning at will. And with the mist produced by her water magic, she could now freely control the direction that the lightning would travel through the fog. The water particles in the air became conduits for the electrical energy, creating a web of control that she could manipulate with precision
She gripped her sword tighter, feeling the artifact respond to her will. The power coursed through her body, burning through her mana reserves at an alarming rate. She had prepared for this moment countless times in the prison, perfecting the technique through endless repetition and sacrifice
She activated the enchantment
"Thunder strike," she commanded, her voice clear and decisive
Lightning erupted from the sword in violent torrents, filling the mist with jagged bolts of electrical energy. The bolts crackled and split, creating webs of destruction throughout the arena. The sound was deafening, a constant roar of elemental fury that made the very air vibrate with power. From above, the crowd could see the mist illuminated by thousands of lightning strikes, a spectacular display of raw magical power that left spectators breathless
On Soren's end, he was thinking desperately about how to escape this. He was out of options. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The mist surrounded him completely, and the lightning converged from every conceivable angle, leaving no gaps, no escape routes
He was too weak. That was the constant refrain in his mind. Once again, there were too many gaps in his battle style. Too many flaws. Too many weaknesses that he couldn't overcome through sheer willpower alone. He kept repeating this to himself obsessively, the self-criticism becoming almost a mantra, even momentarily forgetting the dire position he was currently in
I can't accept to die now, he thought with desperate intensity. Not here. Not like this
Something shifted inside him
His scarred face twisted into a smile that was anything but sane. It was the smile of someone whose mind was fragmenting under pressure, whose sanity was cracking at the seams. Something else was taking over his body, some darker version of himself that existed in the spaces between consciousness and madness
He grabbed his sword with both hands, his knuckles turning white from the intensity of his grip. His fingers were shaking, whether from fear or rage or some combination of both, he couldn't tell anymore. Blood dripped from his palms where the hilt dug into his skin
He looked at his hand, at the blood pooling there
Mirelle continued to pour magic into her blade, fuelling the enchantment, channelling every ounce of power she possessed into this final attack. The sword blazed with electrical energy, the lightning growing more intense with each passing second. She knew the cost of this move intimately. After this attack, she would barely have any usable mana left. The magical reserves that kept her functioning would be depleted. It would take hours, maybe days, to recover. It would be dangerous to cast any more magic after this, dangerous to her body and her mind. One mistake, one miscalculation, and she could damage her mana cores permanently
But this was necessary. This was the only way to finish this fight against someone who outranked her
Millions of streams of lightning darted throughout the mist. It was like a massive cobweb of lightning bolts, each one traveling at blinding speed, creating a dense network of electrical death. The bolts didn't target one point but spread throughout the entire arena, leaving nowhere safe, nowhere untouched
They all travelled and converged toward Soren through every angle imaginable. Up. Down. Left. Right. Diagonal. Every direction simultaneously
But Mirelle could still see Soren's outline through the lightning, his silhouette visible against the electrical glow. She watched as he stood motionless in the center of the storm
He's not moving, she thought with satisfaction. He must have given up. He's accepted his fate
She allowed herself a moment of triumph. I really did it. I beat a rank 2 like him. Despite the power difference, despite the rank disparity, I found a way to win
But her celebration was cut brutally short
The problem with using this technique was that it drained virtually all of her magic and forced her to remain absolutely still in her current position. The enchantment required her complete focus and immobility to maintain the lightning's trajectory and control. She was locked in place, vulnerable, defenceless
Her eyes widened in shock as she saw something impossible
A sword came hurtling toward her with violent, destructive force. It wasn't just a sword though. Something was attached to the end of the blade, something that gleamed with crimson light. She pulled her sword up to block, yanking it out of the ground with desperate strength, and the lightning storm stopped abruptly as the enchantment broke under the impact of the collision
She managed to block the initial blow, her arms screaming with the effort of deflecting such raw power
But then the attachments on the end of the sword began to splatter and erupt
Explosions erupted in rapid succession, blood magic explosions that detonated with devastating force. The impact sent her flying backward through the air, her body helpless against the momentum. She crashed against the hard stone of the arena floor, the impact driving the breath from her lungs
She skidded across the ground, friction burning her skin and clothes. When she finally stopped moving, she was covered in blood, bruised, battered. But she was still alive
Her sword had flown from her hand, clattering somewhere in the distance beyond her reach. Her mana was completely depleted. Her clothes were torn and disarranged from the explosions. Her hat had vanished entirely. She had no strength left. No magic left to cast. She was completely vulnerable
In the midst of all the chaos and pain, only one thought consumed her mind: How? How did he escape that attack? What did he do?
She thought back to his attack
He threw his sword? What kind of madman ignores the fear of approaching death to retaliate with something like throwing his sword, a useless attack. If it was something as simple as a thrown sword she could have easily prevented it by controlling the lightening
But the sword was thrown as such a speed that she didn't have anytime to react. Mirelle had thought that her opponent might try to use his powerful projectile ability however even if he did that he would still die in the end the only way the stop her attack would be to either defend himself or by completely finishing her off which is what her opponent had done. His attack defied all common sense it was the attack of a madman
Soren walked up to Mirelle
The crowd and the commentator were exploding with applause and excitement. Cassian's voice boomed across the arena
"Wow, he's escaped from the jaws of death again! What an ending to a fight!" the announcer exclaimed, his theatrical voice carrying across every corner of the colosseum
Soren walked over slowly. His already disgusting appearance had grown worse. His flesh was now burned and some bits charred from the approaching lightning, but they were only surface level wounds, nothing serious. His body had endured far worse
He walked over and grabbed Mirelle's discarded sword
Mirelle looked over at Soren's approaching silhouette as he came closer. And then she saw it
His left upper arm was gone. Completely severed. She had never done that. The lightning couldn't cause a wound like that. Then she started piecing it together
The thing that he had exploded on top of his sword. Was it his arm? His entire arm?
What the hell
He had decided to cut off his own arm, stick it on his sword, then somehow throw it that hard at her across that distance. And he had decided to come up with this in that short of a moment. The desperation. The madness. The willingness to sacrifice his own body to survive
Then she thought again: Who the hell am I fighting?
She looked at his disgusted appearance. She didn't feel fear, but her body instinctively tried to back away. It was like a monster, a hideous beast, was approaching her. She was a seasoned fighter, but her body felt the fear even as her mind rejected it. She was now helpless before the person before her
Soren walked closer to her, muttering something under his breath
"Again. Again. Again. Again. Again," he whispered, his voice carrying the cadence of obsession. "How many times will the world show me how weak I am? That I have to resort to doing these things?"
His remaining functional eye locked onto Mirelle. The sword hung loosely in his hand
He moved closer to her
Cassian's voice cut through the arena like a blade
"And now, will our fighter choose to kill his opponent? Hmm, I wonder what he will do," the announcer said, his tone carrying theatrical curiosity
As Soren looked at Mirelle, his thoughts were crazed, fractured, barely coherent
I want to get stronger. I need to get stronger. I have to get stronger
I know what I will do. I'll take control of everything. I'll use everything here to get stronger. I don't care what I have to do. If it will save me, if it will make my chance of escape and survival even a bit better, I'll do it
He thought of the gangs. How they hoarded and took portions of every prisoner's resources. How their leaders were wary of Soren and Noelle
Soren began muttering, a crazy smile spreading across his scarred face
"I'll finally give them a reason to be worried," he whispered to himself. "I'll start everything with this. My start to finally being stronger. My start to having no weaknesses. This is my new beginning"
He clutched the sword hard, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white
He was within a couple of steps of the injured Mirelle now
After fights, the winner could decide whether to kill or spare their opponent. Killing their opponent meant getting all of their possessions, all of their accumulated resources. But not all did kill their opponents. Some spared them for reasons of their own. Maybe their own beliefs. Maybe their own moral code
However, all that mattered here was Soren's decision