Sophia facepalmed.

"Of course it does…"

Rhys groaned.

"I literally just finished surviving a sword that almost birthed a spirit. Why is everyone's weapon coming to life today?"

The man stepped forward, placing the axe on the ground with a heavy CLANG that made the entire infirmary tremble.

"I'm Balron Stonecleaver," he introduced himself. "Earthborn Fighter, Rank 18. You're new, so I'll be generous."

Rhys blinked.

"…Generous how?"

Balron's grin widened.

"I'll only use half my strength."

Sophia whispered,

"He's going to use full strength."

Caria whispered back,

"He's absolutely using full strength."

Balron leaned forward, eyes shining with excitement.

"I watched your fight. You swing like a madman and explode everything. I like that."

"…Thanks?" Rhys said unsurely.

Balron slammed the butt of his axe down, cracking the floor.

"BUT—your magic control sucks. Your body can't handle your own power."

Rhys narrowed his eyes.

"…That's not wrong, but you don't have to say it."

Balron crossed his arms.

"That's why I'm going to crush you. You're dangerous when uncontrolled."

Rhys pointed at himself.

"Me? Dangerous? YOU have a sentient death-axe named Bloodmaw."

Balron shrugged.

"Bloodmaw is polite."

Bloodmaw suddenly vibrated.

A faint whisper echoed through the room:

"FEEEED."

Puddle screamed.

"POLITE?! IT JUST ASKED FOR SNACKS!!"

Lyra stepped forward calmly.

"Rhys. Be careful. That axe isn't cursed—it's alive. A high-grade Spirit Weapon."

Rhys stared.

"…A SPIRIT WEAPON?! At what rank?!"

"Rank 4," Lyra said simply.

Rhys's soul left his body for half a second.

Sophia slapped her forehead.

"Oh good. Perfect. Exactly what Rhys needs. A fight with someone who wields a weapon that wants to eat him."

Balron lifted Bloodmaw again and rested it on his shoulder.

"Meet me at the arena entrance in ten minutes. Don't be late."

Rhys pointed at him.

"TEN MINUTES?! I thought my match was in thirty!"

Balron shrugged.

"They moved it up."

Rhys's eye twitched.

"…Why."

Balron grinned.

"Because they want the crowd awake."

He turned and walked out, each step shaking the hallway.

As soon as he was gone, Rhys collapsed into his chair.

"…I'm fighting a mountain with a hungry axe."

Puddle climbed onto his lap, trembling.

"MASTER… WE SHOULD RUN AWAY…"

Sophia grabbed Rhys's shoulders and shook him.

"You can't run! This is the top twenty! You HAVE to fight!"

Caria adjusted her glasses.

"At least this one can't teleport, shoot lasers, or summon storms."

Lyra added quietly,

"He can. Earth magic. Very strong."

Rhys stared at her.

"…Lyra. Please stop helping."

Puddle raised a tiny hand.

"MASTER! WE STILL WIN! MAYBE!"

Rhys sighed, stood up, cracked his neck, and breathed deeply.

"…All right. Fine. Let's go."

He took a step forward.

Then paused.

"Wait. Bloodmaw said feed, right?"

Puddle nodded rapidly.

"Yes master. It wants snacks. Like your soul."

Rhys rubbed his temples.

"…Fantastic."

He straightened his sword.

Stretched his back.

And walked toward the arena doors.

Fight number seven was about to start.

And this time…

The weapon was just as dangerous as the wielder.

The arena gates groaned open with a deep, metallic rumble—almost as if the building itself feared what was about to happen.

The moment Rhys stepped through, the crowd roared like a living ocean.

"RHYS! DON'T DIE TOO FAST!"

"BALRON, EAT HIM—NO WAIT, NOT LITERALLY!"

"BLOODMAW! BREAK THE FLOOR AGAIN!"

Rhys stopped mid-step.

"…Why do they sound excited about ME dying?"

Puddle clung to his leg like a terrified child.

"MASTER, THEY ARE BAD PEOPLE. LET US GO HOME."

"Too late," Sophia said, jogging to catch up. "Balron's already inside."

Indeed he was.

Balron Stonecleaver stood at the center of the arena, turning Bloodmaw slowly in his hands. The red runes pulsed with a heartbeat rhythm.

Thump.Thump.Thump.

The weapon was excited.

That was never good.

A referee raised a hand.

"Combatants—"

Bloodmaw suddenly shrieked.

"FEEEEED!"

Rhys jumped.

"CAN WE NOT START LIKE THAT?!"

Balron chuckled. "Ignore him. He gets cranky before warmups."

Sophia cupped her hands around her mouth from the stands.

"RHYS! HE'S LYING! THE AXE IS PERMANENTLY CRANKY!"

Caria sat beside her, scribbling notes.

"Rhys should avoid direct hits. Preferably by dodging everything. Preferably by leaving the country."

Lyra folded her arms, gaze sharp.

"He'll be fine."

Sophia blinked.

"…You really believe that?"

Lyra hesitated.

"…I believe he will not die."

"Comforting," Sophia deadpanned.

In the arena, Rhys exhaled and rolled his shoulders.

All right. No panic. You survived teleporting lightning twins and a sword birthing a spirit.This is FINE. Probably.

"Begin in 3…"

Balron hefted the axe.

"…2…"

The earth beneath his feet trembled.

"…1—"

Puddle screamed:

"MASTER, DODGE—!!"

The moment the countdown ended, Balron vanished.

Not teleported.Not blinked.

He moved—explosively, like a landslide gaining speed.

Rhys barely crossed his blades in time.

BOOOOOOM!

The impact sent shockwaves through the arena, throwing dust and air outward. Rhys slid back three full meters, boots carving twin trenches in the dirt.

His arms throbbed.

Balron grinned inches from his face.

"Good block."

Rhys wheezed.

"THAT—WAS—HALF—STRENGTH?!"

Balron blinked innocently.

"…Quarter, actually."

"WHAT?!"

Balron pressed harder, Bloodmaw's runes flaring brighter.

"Show me more! That stunt with your exploding sword—do it again!"

Rhys gritted his teeth.

"You'll regret asking!"

Mana surged through him—chaotic, wild, boiling under his skin.

Cracks of light sparked around his blades.

Sophia panicked in the stands.

"RHYS NO! NOT INSIDE THE ARENA AGAIN—!"

Rhys roared and unleashed a burst of force.

BLADE NOVA!

Balron skidded back, boots digging into stone, eyes alight with joy.

"YES! MORE!"

The crowd exploded.

Puddle puffed up his cheeks.

"MASTER! USE ME! I HAVE WATER, DARK, LIGHT! I AM VERSATILE SNACK!"

"That's not encouraging," Rhys muttered.

Balron stomped once.

The entire arena ground shook.

"EARTH PULSE!"

A shockwave traveled through the ground like a ripple on water—then erupted beneath Rhys.

BWHOOOM!

Rhys was launched skyward.

Balron bent his knees.

"Bloodmaw—JUMP!"

He shot upward like he'd been fired from a cannon.

Rhys looked down in horror.

"NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE—"

Balron swung mid-air.

"SKY-SPLITTING CLEAVE!"

Rhys barely twisted aside, the axe slicing past with a scream of air.

He countered with a downward slash.

WHIRLWIND SLASH!

Balron blocked with Bloodmaw using one hand.

One. Hand.

"You're fast," the Earthborn fighter said, smiling. "But—"

He pulled Rhys closer by his own sword.

"I'm faster."

He headbutted Rhys.

CRACK.

Rhys flew down like a falling star, smashing into the arena floor.

Dust billowed.

The audience gasped.

Puddle leapt up, tiny fists shaking.

"MASTER!!"

Sophia stood up in panic.

"RHYS?!"

For a moment, the arena was silent.

Then—

A faint groan.

Rhys pushed himself up, blood on his lip, hair messy, eyes blazing.

"Ow."

Balron's grin widened as he landed heavily, cracking the floor again.

"Good. You're tough. Now… show me the real thing."

Rhys wiped his mouth.

"Fine."

He raised his sword.

Mana ignited around him like white-blue fire.

"But when I go all out… don't complain."

Balron swung Bloodmaw onto his shoulder.

"Finally."

The referee swallowed hard.

"R-Round two… begin?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.