"Great reflexes from Rhys," Dreamer observed. "He's reading Maxwell's movements surprisingly well."

Fate nodded. "But Maxwell's speed advantage is no joke. Once he starts chaining his lightning dashes, Rhys is going to have a harder time keeping up."

Almost on cue, Maxwell vanished in a flash—Lightning Step—reappearing behind Rhys with a burst of heat. A surge of flame spiraled along his sword.

"Here comes the pressure—!"

Maxwell swung.

But Rhys had already anticipated it. He twisted, Mana Shield blooming around him in a thin, translucent arc. Maxwell's flaming strike crashed into it with a loud crack, but it held—barely.

Puddle made her move.

A golden ripple spread from her small form—Gleaming Halo—coating Rhys in a soft radiant glow.

"He's reinforcing already?" Dreamer blinked. "That's early."

"Smart though," Fate replied. "Maxwell hits hard. Better to stabilize now than regret it later."

Rhys didn't waste the extra protection.

He lunged forward, blade trailing a twisting stream of water—Water Jet Slash—forcing Maxwell to jump back as the ground split with the impact.

Maxwell grinned. "Nice! Try this!"

He slammed his foot down, a ring of flames erupting outward—Blazing Pulse.

The blast rolled across the arena.

Rhys crossed his arms, Puddle hovering above him as she released Aqua Veil. A soft blue barrier formed, absorbing most of the heat—but the force still pushed Rhys back several meters, boots skidding against the stone.

"Oof, that one landed," Dreamer winced. "Rhys's defense is holding, but Maxwell's fire output is rising."

"Look at Maxwell," Fate pointed. "He's layering fire and lightning at once. That's tough to counter—unless Rhys starts mixing his own elements more aggressively."

Down in the arena, the two swordsmen paused for a split second, both catching their breath.

Maxwell twirled his sword, eyes excited. "Not bad, Rhys! I was worried you'd play too safe."

Rhys smirked. "Please. I haven't even used my good stuff yet."

Fate laughed softly. "Oh boy. That's the kind of line that gets the crowd going."

Dreamer leaned closer to the mic. "And the kind of line that usually means someone is about to do something reckless."

The crowd roared with anticipation.

Maxwell raised his sword, electricity and fire beginning to coil tightly around him—his aura sharpening like a blade.

Rhys lowered his stance, mana thrumming through him. Multi-element energy crackled along his sword, the colors shifting rapidly.

Puddle floated behind him, tiny hands glowing with both light and dark mana.

Fate inhaled. "Here comes the next exchange."

Dreamer grinned. "And it's going to be big."

Maxwell blurred forward first.

A streak of lightning tore across the arena, his figure flickering in and out of visibility as he chained Lightning Step three times in rapid succession. Each movement left a crackling afterimage behind him.

"Here we go—Maxwell's speed mode," Dreamer announced. "If Rhys can't track him here, the round could tilt fast."

But Rhys didn't panic.

His eyes narrowed.

Mana surged.

Wind swirled sharply around his boots—Swift Cut stance—augmenting his reaction time and footwork. His sword gleamed with layered elements, the colors folding seamlessly into each other.

Maxwell appeared on Rhys's left.

Flames spiraled.

Lightning crackled.

His sword cut down with terrifying force—

—and Rhys pivoted, parrying at the last possible moment, sparks flying as the blades clashed.

"Ohhh, clean read!" Fate shouted. "Rhys predicted the left-side reentry!"

Maxwell didn't give him time to breathe.

He spun, using the recoil of the clash to launch a Flame Burst Kick, heat rippling off the blow.

Rhys ducked, sliding across the floor in a controlled skid.

Puddle's voice rang sharply, "Light Bullets!"

Five tiny orbs of light burst from her hands, streaking toward Maxwell.

Maxwell sliced them apart midair, but each explosion forced him to halt his momentum.

"A clever interruption," Dreamer commented. "Puddle's keeping him from chaining too much pressure."

Rhys seized the opening.

He thrust his sword forward, chanting under his breath—

"Fireball."

A concentrated, red-hot sphere blasted out, but rather than firing straight, Rhys curved it slightly with a controlled wind push.

Maxwell blinked. "Huh?!"

The Fireball veered—

—and slammed into his flank.

A small explosion rocked him sideways.

The crowd erupted.

"He used wind to curve it!" Fate shouted. "That's advanced control for his level!"

Maxwell gritted his teeth, sliding back with smoke curling from his uniform.

Then he laughed.

A bright, exhilarated sound.

"Okay, Rhys… I see you!"

His lightning flared brighter—veins of blue crawling up his arms.

His sword ignited, fire spiraling upward like a mini-tornado.

Dreamer exhaled slowly. "Oh wow… he's starting to combine them fully."

"This is his specialty," Fate said. "Lightning speed, fire power—merged into one burst technique."

Down in the arena, Maxwell pointed his sword forward.

"Let's see if you can keep up!"

Lightning exploded outward.

Fire wrapped around his legs.

And he vanished—

—only to reappear right beside Rhys with a blow so fast the sound arrived late.

Rhys blocked—but the sheer impact sent him sliding back, boots carving lines into the arena floor.

Puddle began forming another spell, dark tendrils coiling in her palms.

Rhys steadied himself, blade glowing fiercely.

Both fighters' auras surged—

one with fire and thunder,

the other with twisting, multi-colored mana guided by a small ancient beast.

Fate leaned in. "They're both powering up. This match is entering its peak."

Dreamer nodded, eyes fixed on the arena. "One decisive exchange could flip everything."

Maxwell extended his blade.

Rhys raised his.

Puddle's wings of light unfurled.

The air thickened with mana.

The crowd held its breath.

A crack of thunder split the air as both fighters launched forward at the same time.

Maxwell's body blurred, lightning snapping from point to point as he closed the distance. The arena floor scorched beneath his steps, each one leaving a brief trail of flame.

Rhys met him head-on.

Their blades collided with a shriek of metal and mana, the shockwave rippling across the arena and forcing the front rows to shield their eyes.

"Massive clash!" Fate shouted over the roar. "Both of them put everything into that one!"

Neither pushed back. Neither relented.

The two swordsmen broke apart in a burst of sparks—then immediately collided again.

Maxwell swung horizontally, flames curling around his blade.

Rhys countered, water mana coating his sword in a flowing arc.

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