Ron, Lia, and Jax gathered around Selene, forming a tight circle as their shadows mirrored the same formation several meters away. Selene's amber-gold crystal pulsed with light, reflecting off their faces as everyone caught their breath. The air was thick with tension but also something sharper now—clarity.
Selene lifted her chin, eyes firm.
"Get ready. We're ending this."
Jax blinked, lowering his guns slightly.
"Uh… so are you going to actually tell us the plan, or did you just say that because it sounded cool?"
Selene didn't miss a beat.
"Shut up, Jax."
Jax raised both hands defensively.
"I was just asking—"
"I do have a plan," Selene cut in, eyes flickering to each teammate.
She pointed her staff toward their shadows in the distance.
"The main objective of this entire competition is teamwork. That mysterious woman kept hinting at it from the beginning. And if you think about it—each of our reflections knows us perfectly. Our spells. Our timing. Our instincts. Our habits."
Ron nodded slowly, gripping his flaming spear.
"Because they're literally… us."
"Exactly." Selene's voice sharpened. "But here's the important part. They only know their specific counterpart. Your shadow knows everything about you. My shadow knows everything about me. But they don't know anything about the fighting style of someone else."
Lia's eyes widened slightly, a spark of realization igniting.
"You mean…"
"Swap," Selene said with confidence. "We're switching opponents."
Ron exhaled sharply, a grin tugging at his lips.
"That's… actually brilliant."
Jax cracked a wide smile.
"Oh hell yeah. In that case—" He twirled his guns dramatically. "I call fighting Ron's shadow!"
Ron smirked.
"Good. Then I'll take yours."
Selene and Lia exchanged the same tired sigh.
"Boys…" they muttered in unison.
Selene ignored their antics and continued, "It doesn't matter how perfect their copy is. If they don't know how the new opponent fights, they'll make mistakes. And even a slight mismatch will break their rhythm."
Lia nodded firmly.
"And once the rhythm breaks, we overwhelm them."
Jax elbowed Ron lightly.
"Hey bro, make sure you don't lose to my shadow. I don't want to hear excuses later."
Ron tapped his spear on the ground, a confident smirk spreading across his face.
"You too. Don't embarrass yourself in front of us."
Jax scoffed.
"I'm offended you think I ever have."
Selene raised her staff, and the amber glow intensified.
"Alright. Positions."
The four took one synchronized step back—
and their shadows mirrored the movement perfectly.
The final confrontation was about to begin.
--
The four sprinted forward as one, their boots hammering across the reflective floor. Their shadows reacted instantly, dashing toward them from the opposite side with identical speed and killing intent. For a heartbeat, it looked like the same clash would repeat—mirror against mirror.
But at the last moment, Ron's group broke formation.
They split.
Swapped.
Shifted.
Ron veered sharply to the side.
Lia slid behind him.
Selene pivoted with a burst of rune-light.
And Jax—
Jax threw himself straight into the path of Ron's shadow.
Ron's shadow, expecting Ron's fiery spear, came charging with a blazing spiral of flame. But instead—
Jax slipped in front of him, twisted his body, and delivered a sharp forward kick.
The shadow's eyes widened for a split second—
not from surprise, but recognition—
and he raised his flaming spear just in time to block the kick.
Even so, the sheer force pushed him back a full step, flames flickering around the spear's shaft.
Jax landed lightly, guns already spinning.
A broad grin stretched across his face.
"You're fighting me now."
What surprised him wasn't the block—he expected that—
It was the smile.
The shadow—Ron's shadow—
smiled back.
A fiery, excited grin.
Almost… Ron-like.
Jax blinked.
"So you're excited too, huh?"
The grin on the shadow deepened.
Jax raised his guns.
"Then let's go!"
Ron's shadow lunged first.
Flames burst upward as he spun the spear overhead, channeling fire into the weapon until the entire length glowed vivid orange-red. Then, with a powerful step, he thrust the spear forward—
A spiraling eruption of flame tore through the arena, forming a miniature tornado of searing fire.
Jax reacted instantly.
He dove sideways, rolling across the scorched floor as the flames grazed him. Heat licked at his clothes, leaving smoldered edges and a faint trail of smoke rising from his jacket. But the moment his boots hit the ground—
He fired.
Three shots.
A rapid, explosive triple burst.
Each one a compressed sphere of white mana that streaked across the air like miniature shooting stars.
Ron's shadow spun his spear like a shield.
Two shots ricocheted off the flaming arc—
But the third slipped through.
It grazed the shadow's shoulder with a sharp crack, blasting dark flame outward. The force knocked him back a step, and the fire spiraling around the spear sputtered for a moment before reigniting.
Jax flicked his wrist, smoke curling from his guns.
A teasing grin spread across his face.
"How was that?"
Ron's shadow answered by planting his spear deeper into the ground—
flames rising, aura intensifying.
Jax's grin only widened.
"Ohhh, you're pissed now. Perfect."
Ron's shadow stormed toward Jax with blazing steps, fire curling around his spear in hungry spirals. But instead of fear, Jax's grin only widened. His twin guns pulsed with a soft, icy blue glow—mana condensing around the metal like frost forming on steel.
He tilted one gun toward the charging shadow.
"Alright, big guy… here's something new."
Mana surged.
"Spellshooter's Arsenal: Ice Barrage."
Both pistols fired at once.
The shots didn't form simple bullets—
they detonated mid-air into a cascading web of glittering ice shards.
A storm of frost ripped across the arena, meeting Ron-shadow's flames head-on. Fire hissed as the icy blast extinguished the blaze mid-strike, coating half the spear in frost.
Ron's shadow barreled forward regardless, teeth clenched, forcing his way through the cold storm. For a moment he vanished behind a burst of icy mist—
and then—
WHOOSH—
His spear ignited again, crimson flame erupting from the frozen tip, cutting through the frost with sheer force of will.
He leapt high, silhouette outlined by burning red light, and swung downward in a devastating arc—
Jax's eyes widened.
"Oh, crap—!"
He backflipped hard.
His boots skimmed inches above the floor as he twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding the flaming spear. The instant the spear tip struck the reflective ground—
BOOOOOM!!
A violent explosion tore through the arena.
Stone, mirror shards, and burning debris blasted outward in every direction. A ring of fire erupted from the point of impact, tearing cracks across the arena floor as shockwaves rattled the entire space.
Jax landed awkwardly, sliding across the ground.
"Wha—Whoa—!"
Debris rained past him. He tried to dodge—
But a sharp shard of fractured arena stone sliced across his side.
"Gh—!"
He hissed in pain, touching his waist as warm blood seeped through his fingers. It wasn't deep, but the sting was sharp and immediate.
He forced a shaky laugh despite the pain.
"Well… that sucked."
Ron's shadow stepped through the fading smoke, flames licking his spear once more, eyes glowing with fierce brightness.
Jax raised his guns, breathing hard, but his grin never faded.
"Alright, flame-boy… round two."
Jax wiped the blood from his side, grinning despite the sting, and lifted both guns again. His eyes gleamed with excitement—not fear, not hesitation—just thrill. Pure, chaotic thrill.
"Alright," he breathed, twirling one gun.
"Let's go."
He raised his right pistol first.
A cold, crystalline glow surged.
"Spellshooter's Arsenal: Ice Barrage."
Blue shards detonated from the gun, exploding mid-air into a spray of razor-sharp ice fragments that spiraled unpredictably through the battlefield.
At the same moment, he lifted his left gun—
and fired a completely different spell.
This one wasn't elegant.
It wasn't clean.
It was chaos in bullet form.
"Spellshooter's Arsenal: Ricochet Hex — Chain Ricochet."
The mana-coated bullet burst apart into several smaller, metallic fragments—
each one wrapped in a shimmering mana coat.
The pieces shot outward, bouncing unpredictably between the ice shards, picking up momentum with every ricochet.
Each rebound made them faster.
Sharper.
More lethal.
For the first time, Ron's shadow flinched.
His eyes widened, flames flickering as he recognized the unpredictable, nearly untrackable trajectories.
But he reacted instantly, refusing to fall.
He spun his spear rapidly, flames swirling outward in a tight vortex.
Heat flared in a circular barrier as he shouted—
"Inferno Spear — Fifth Technique: Ember Guard!"
A blazing shield of superheated air and crackling flame enveloped him, deflecting the hail of ice shards and ricocheting bullets in a shower of sparks and vaporized frost.
But he didn't see Jax charging through the chaos.
White mana wrapped around Jax's leg, pulsing with power.
Jax leapt, flipping once, then leveled both guns straight at Ron-shadow's guard.
"Here—take this."
His guns glowed bright blue—
but the light abruptly flickered—
and vanished.
Instead, two tiny black bullets shot out.
They struck the spinning Ember Guard shield—
BOOOOM!!
A thick cloud of black smoke exploded outward, swallowing Ron's shadow entirely.
Jax smirked.
"Spellshooter's Arsenal: Smoke Trick."
The swirling flames of Ember Guard sucked the smoke inward, feeding on it—
and instantly robbing Ron's shadow of all vision.
Unable to see, he stopped spinning the spear and burst out of the cloud—
Only to freeze.
Above him—
in mid-air—
stood four Jaxes.
Not illusions.
Not clones.
But afterimages created from speed magic, all aiming at him with glowing, mana-overloaded guns.
The shadow's eyes widened.
Too late.
"Spellshooter's Arsenal: Blitz Trick."
Four Jaxes fired at once.
Four beams of concentrated mana shot inward from four directions—
a perfect execution kill zone.
The blasts collided at Ron-shadow's position—
KRAKOOM!!!
The explosion shook the entire arena, throwing fire, smoke, and mana fragments in every direction. When the dust settled, Ron's shadow staggered forward—his left arm blown clean off, body trembling, torso shredded by burns and deep wounds. The flames around his spear flickered weakly.
He barely lifted his head—
And felt cold metal press against the back of his skull.
Jax stood behind him.
One gun raised.
Finger resting casually on the trigger.
He smirked.
"Bye bye."
BANG.
A single shot.
A perfect, clean hole.
Ron's shadow fell to his knees, then dissolved into drifting particles of mana that faded into the air like dying embers.
Jax holstered his guns with a flourish, exhaled sharply, and planted a boot on the ground with exaggerated swagger.
He flashed a victory sign.
"Victory for Jax Harl."
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