The rain pounded mercilessly on the coliseum, its drumming blending with the crowd's roar.

High in the stands, the announcer, a man with a deep voice amplified by a resonating artifact, shouted to be heard over the chaos.

"And it looks like Rian Cole is in deep trouble, folks! Darion Veth has him on the ropes with those wind gusts! He can't get close, and the poor guy looks desperate for an opening!"

Charles, kneeling on the wet arena floor, gritted his teeth.

Water streamed down his face, soaking his already tattered tunic.

His hands trembled—not from the cold, but from the static building in them, a prickling burn like tiny needles.

The announcer's words echoed annoyingly, but he couldn't afford to lose focus.

Across from him, Darion Veth kept taunting, his gray tunic barely damp, shielded by that damned air barrier deflecting the rain.

'This isn't working,' Charles thought, breathing heavily.

Frustration burned in his chest, but he wasn't giving up.

Not after everything he'd gone through to get here.

He glanced at the blue tab floating in his vision, the system that always guided him.

"System…" Charles muttered through clenched teeth, keeping his voice low so Darion wouldn't hear. "How close do I need to be for an explosion to hit him without killing him?"

A cold, mechanical voice answered in his mind.

[For a controlled explosion at 70% power, the minimum effective distance is three meters. This will ensure significant impact without lethal risk.]

[Warning: Explosions at this power will cause moderate pain in your hands due to energy recoil.]

Charles clicked his tongue, annoyed.

"Seriously… three meters…?" he grumbled under his breath. "That's too close with these gusts."

He eyed Darion, still strutting in the arena's center, laughing as he spun a hand to whip up another air current.

The invisible barrier kept pushing Charles back, holding him over ten meters away.

Suddenly, an idea hit.

"System," Charles said quickly, eyes locked on Darion. "Can I focus my energy in my legs to move faster? Not full speed, no blue sparks to raise suspicion. Just enough to break through that wind barrier."

[Affirmative. You can channel 40% of your energy to your legs for a moderate boost. This will allow you to overcome the resistance of Darion Veth's wind barrier without visible sparks.]

[Proceed?]

"Yes," Charles said, feeling a spark of hope. "Do it now."

[Redistributing energy…]

[40% channeled to lower limbs.]

[Ready for boost.]

A sudden warmth surged in Charles's legs, like a river of energy flowing from his chest to his thighs.

His boots sank slightly into the wet ground, and he took a deep breath, bracing himself.

"This better work," he muttered, standing up.

The crowd kept shouting—some mocking, others cheering—but he tuned them out.

All that mattered was Darion, still cocky, waving his hands to maintain the wind barrier.

"Come on, Cole!" Darion taunted, grinning arrogantly. "Getting tired? This is too easy!"

Charles didn't reply.

Instead, he bent his knees and launched forward.

WHOOSH!

The wind barrier hit him instantly, but this time it was different.

His legs, charged with 40% energy, sliced through the resistance like it was a light breeze.

His boots splashed on the wet ground, but he didn't slip.

In a blink, he covered the ten meters separating him from Darion, planting himself three meters away—right in the range he needed.

The crowd erupted in shocked roars.

"What the hell?" a voice shouted from the stands.

"How'd he get there?" another yelled.

Even the announcer sounded thrown.

"Incredible, folks! Rian Cole just blew through that barrier like it was nothing! Darion Veth didn't see it coming!"

Darion's eyes widened, his grin fading for the first time.

"What…?" he stammered, stepping back. "How'd you do that?"

Charles didn't give him time to react.

He clenched his fists, feeling static crackle in his hands.

The prickling turned to a burn, but he ignored it.

"Take this!" he shouted, raising both hands and unleashing a 70% power explosion.

BOOM!

A wave of energy burst from his hands, a bright flash lighting up the rain-soaked arena.

The blast tore through the air, sending scorching heat toward Darion.

He reacted just in time, raising his hands to form a dense wind shield.

The explosion's particles slammed into the barrier, and though some energy was deflected, the force broke through most of the defense.

CRASH!

Darion grunted, staggering back.

His clothes tore at the chest, and burn marks appeared on his arms.

The rain started soaking him, a sign his focus was slipping.

"Damn you!" he shouted, eyes blazing with rage. "What was that?"

Charles didn't answer.

His hands burned, sharp pain shooting up his forearms, but he couldn't stop now.

'He's still standing,' he thought, gritting his teeth. 'Not enough.'

Without giving Darion a chance to recover, he channeled more energy—this time 80%.

The burning in his hands intensified, like hot needles stabbing his skin, but he pushed through.

"I'm not done!" he roared, raising his hands again.

BOOM!

A stronger explosion rocked the arena, its flash illuminating the coliseum.

The crowd screamed, some leaping from their seats.

The energy wave hit Darion before he could reinforce his wind shield.

This time, the defense collapsed completely.

The blast struck him full-on, hurling him several meters back.

THUD!

Darion crashed onto his back in the wet dirt, clothes in tatters, skin covered in burns.

The rain drenched him mercilessly, his air barrier gone.

He gasped, trying to stand, but his trembling arms buckled under his weight.

The crowd went wild.

"What the hell just happened!?" a man yelled from the stands.

"Rian's destroying him!" a woman shouted, waving her arms.

The announcer could barely keep up.

"I-I-Incredible! Rian Cole has turned this fight around! Darion Veth is down, folks! This is insane!"

Charles stood, breathing hard.

His hands shook, the pain a steady pulse up to his elbows.

But his tunic, though soaked, was intact, and his body was barely scratched.

He looked at Darion, who stared back with a mix of fear and confusion.

"What… what are you?" Darion muttered, coughing as water ran down his face.

Charles flashed a mocking grin, though the pain in his hands made him clench his teeth.

"What's wrong, Veth?" he said, mimicking Darion's earlier sarcasm. "Thought this'd be easy? Tough luck, looks like you miscalculated."

Darion tried to stand, propping himself on one hand, but his legs gave out.

His eyes widened, panic creeping in.

"Come on, get up," Charles said, raising a hand like he was prepping another explosion. "Don't tell me you're done."

Darion paled.

"Wait!" he shouted, raising a trembling hand. "I give up! I GIVE UP!"

The crowd fell silent for a split second, processing what they'd heard.

Charles blinked, surprised, slowly lowering his hand.

"What?" he muttered, almost to himself.

He hadn't expected Darion to surrender so fast.

The announcer stammered, as shocked as everyone else.

"W-W-Wait a minute! Darion Veth has surrendered! HE'S SURRENDERED! Rian Cole is the victor, folks! What an incredible upset! Nobody saw this coming!"

The coliseum exploded in a deafening roar.

Some chanted Rian's name, others booed Darion, and some just screamed from pure excitement.

"RIAN! RIAN!" a section of the stands roared, while others clapped frantically.

Charles stood still, breathing heavily, as the pain in his hands began to fade.

He looked at Darion, soaked and defeated on the ground, then at the crowd, still going wild.

In the stands, Lira watched, mouth slightly agape.

Her anger toward Kaira had vanished momentarily, replaced by sheer disbelief.

"How…?" she whispered, eyes fixed on Rian. "Wasn't he injured…?"

Beside her, Kaira leaned against a pillar, her smile wider, almost amused.

"Told you, Lira," she said, not looking away from the arena. "Your stepbrother's got spirit."

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