The Dragon Lord closed the distance. Fast, brutal.
Leo barely moved.
He flicked his wrist once.
The Astral Sword answered.
It shot out in a clean, vicious arc, meeting the Dragon Lord's crimson charge head-on.
The clash threw sparks high into the air.
But the Dragon Lord didn't stop.
He bounced back. Only to whip forward again, blades screaming.
Red streaks slashed through the air. Sharp, violent, whipping around Leo in a relentless storm.
Back.
Forth.
Again.
And again.
Each time, the Dragon Lord struck harder, faster, his body ricocheting off invisible points like a savage force barely contained.
The ground around Leo cracked under the pressure.
Dust spiraled.
Sonic booms rippled.
And yet,
Leo stood at the center.
Unmoving.
Unyielding.
A single immovable point in a battlefield of chaos.
Each time the Dragon Lord crashed in, Leo's blade snapped up, deflecting, twisting, answering with clean, brutal counters that sent shockwaves rumbling across the arena.
Steel met steel.
The Dragon Lord's attacks grew wilder. More desperate, but Leo didn't falter.
His steps were minimal.
Measured.
Each block and parry flowed like it had already been written.
In the royal box, the Astral Sovereign's eyes gleamed, catching the wild flashes of the battle below.
Every time the blades clashed—
Every time the air cracked under the collision—
Her smile twitched.
Faint.
Pleased.
She remembered.
The way Leo's raw power had once made her Astral Arena tremble, like an earthquake running under her skin.
She had thought that was the peak.
That that was all he had.
Now,
Now she knew better.
Across from her, Burdado leaned forward in his seat.
His smirk was gone.
Stone-faced now.
His eyes, unblinking, tracked Leo's every movement.
But behind his neck, a bead of cold sweat slid down.
Slow.
Heavy.
It crawled like something alive.
Above them, somewhere in the upper stands, a spectator blurted out. Too loud, too raw to be contained:
"Is that... really the VIP System user?!"
The words cracked through the tense air.
Another voice picked it up.
Louder.
More urgent.
A ripple ran through the crowd.
A heartbeat of stunned silence.
Then—
The ground trembled.
Lightly at first.
Then harder.
The weight of a thousand voices rising at once.
They didn't even need to be told.
They knew.
They felt it.
The arena shook as the audience began to chant, the sound rolling across the field like a living, breathing storm:
"End him!"
"End him!"
"End him!"
The air thickened with pure energy. Wild, hungry.
And in the center of it all,
Leo twisted his blade once.
The Astral Sword shimmered, alive in his hand.
The Dragon Lord roared again, wings snapping wide, blood dripping from fresh cuts across his arms.
He blurred forward once more,
But this time,
Leo moved. Retaliated.
No hesitation.
No warning.
Just a sudden, violent crack of energy as he blitzed forward.
Straight into the Dragon Lord's onslaught.
The crimson blades crossed. Tight, unyielding, ready to devour anything reckless enough to approach.
The Dragon Lord braced, digging in.
But Leo didn't slow.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't stop.
Power thundered through his limbs, visible now as a burning green surge flickering at his joints.
A low, vibrating hum filled the arena. Too low for most to hear, but enough to make the ground tremble.
The Astral Sovereign stiffened in her seat.
Her fingers tensed around the armrest.
Her breath hitched, the words escaping her in a sharp, brittle whisper:
"Astral Onslaught."
The moment she spoke it, it began.
Leo's blade blurred,
First strike: A flash faster than sight. It shattered the crossed blades' center, forcing the Dragon Lord's arms apart.
Second strike: A brutal uppercut slash. The crimson wings twitched, a feathered crack spraying into the air.
Third strike: A deep, carving blow straight to the ribs. The Dragon Lord staggered half a step back, boots grinding against broken stone.
Fourth strike: A ruthless sweep across the knees. The crimson light flickered, unbalanced.
Fifth strike: A vicious cross-slash from opposite angles. The Dragon Lord's forward momentum finally, finally, broke.
He reeled.
Breathless.
Staggering.
But Leo wasn't done.
Not even close.
The final move,
A surge of energy so dense that the very air warped.
Leo lifted his sword high.
Reality itself seemed to splinter around the blade's edge.
And then,
The last strike fell.
Silent.
Absolute.
The slash carved downward, splitting the very space between them.
It hit.
The ground detonated under the Dragon Lord's boots.
A roaring shockwave swallowed the arena, throwing shattered debris and clouds of thick white fog high into the air.
The world went blank.
The crowd gasped, voices strangled into silence.
Nothing.
Only the churn of fog and the bitter, electric sting in the air.
Seconds dragged.
A heartbeat stretched into forever.
Then,
The mist began to thin.
Slow.
Reluctant.
And through it,
The Dragon Lord emerged.
Broken.
Kneeling.
One hand braced against the ruined ground, the other still clutching the hilts of his twin blades, their points stabbed deep to keep him upright.
Blood dripped steadily from his mouth, a vivid trail down his chin.
His crimson wings hung in tatters behind him, twitching feebly.
In front of him,
Leo stood.
Unmoving.
His Astral Sword rested lightly at his side.
Green light still burned off his body in slow, deliberate pulses—alive, furious.
He looked down at the Dragon Lord.
Silent.
Unforgiving.
The crowd stared,
Breathless.
Frozen.
The chant that once shook the arena now hung silent in the air, waiting.
Watching.
Because they all knew.
This wasn't just a fight anymore.
It was judgment.
The Dragon Lord coughed. Wet, ragged.
A fresh spray of blood splattered across the shattered arena floor.
He lifted his head slowly, meeting Leo's burning stare.
And he smiled.
Broken teeth. Split lips. All the more cruel for it.
"You think you've won?" he rasped, voice low, twisted with malice.
"This..." He hacked another mouthful of blood onto the ground. "This is only the beginning."
Leo's face didn't twitch. Didn't blink.
The Dragon Lord leaned heavier on his blades, chest heaving.
"I'll make your life miserable," he promised. "I'll rip apart everything you care about... until you give her to me."
He sneered, a line of blood trailing down his chin.
"Or maybe..." he tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "Maybe I'll just take her. Right from your arms."
The words slithered through the fog like poison.
A low, broken laugh tore from his throat, rising higher. Uglier, echoing against the cracked walls of the arena.
But then,
Leo moved.
His emerald eyes blazed, the glow swallowing the whites of his gaze entirely.
His aura surged outward. Deeper, louder, rattling the air itself.
Above his head, the burning halo spun faster, flaring so bright the sky dimmed around it.
And behind him,
The golden mantle of living light unfurled wider, snapping and fluttering like a battle flag caught in a coming storm.
Leo raised his sword.
Slow.
Steady.
Unshakable.
The blade vibrated, an emerald hum threading up its length.
His voice came low, calm, final.
"None of that," he said, each word hitting like a hammer, "will ever happen."
The Dragon Lord's grin stayed.
Smug.
Mocking.
"You don't have the guts," he spat. "No system user does. You won't kill me."
"You can't."
He barked out another hollow laugh.
"You're all the same. Weak."
But Leo didn't answer.
The ground at his feet cracked, unable to bear the sudden spike of his power.
The Astral Sword pulsed once, twice—then ignited fully, sheathed in roaring emerald flame.
The Dragon Lord's laugh choked mid-breath.
Too late.
Leo's gaze locked to his.
Unwavering.
And he struck.
A clean, devastating arc.
The sound,
Not a clash.
Not a crack.
But the rip of reality itself splitting open.
The Dragon Lord barely had time to lift his weapons in defense before the strike connected.
And then,
The Astral Arena shattered.
The protective plane that wrapped the battlefield like a bubble. Gone.
Burst apart like fragile soap skin under a hammer.
The shockwave blasted outward, slamming against the stadium walls and flinging the closest spectators back with panicked screams.
Dust and broken stone filled the air.
The last thing anyone saw before the world drowned in white.
Was the Dragon Lord.
Eyes wide.
Mouth open in silent, disbelieving horror.
As Leo's blade carved him out of existence.