The Arena surged in excitement.

  Toa stood on one side of the field, shoulders loose, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  Across from him, Ashur looked almost bored.

  Maurice raised his hand high above the arena.

  “BEGIN!!!”

  Toa moved quickly.

  “Duplicate Core: Split Assault Formation!”

  Twelve identical copies of Toa split into existence, surrounding Ashur in a heartbeat.

  They rushed him all at once.

  A fist came from the left, a kick from the right, two more lunged for his ribs while another dove low towards his legs.

  Ashur didn’t step back, he had no fear.

  He simply turned slightly.

  One clone’s punch slid past his cheek. Another he blocked with his forearm. A third grabbed his shoulder but Ashur twisted, crushing the clones wrist with his grip.

  Bone cracked, and the clone dissolved.

  “Hm. That’s peculiar.”

  Ashur pushed another clone away with his elbow.

  “Is that all?” He said calmly, “Though I’ll admit… these clones are slightly annoying.”

  The attacks didn’t stop.

  Blows rained in from every angle, fists and kicks overlapping like waves.

  Ashur slipped between them, blocking, redirecting, stepping just far enough to avoid the worst of it.

  Then, he caught another clone mid strike.

  His fingers tightened around its arm.

  CRUNCH.

  The limb collapsed like brittle wood.

  “Of course,” he added casually. “It won’t take long to find the real one.”

  A presence appeared behind him.

  Ashur’s care free nature got the best of him.

  A fist slammed into Ashur’s back and sent him skidding across stone.

  Toa stood there now, the real one.

  “Five minutes,” Ashur muttered, dusting his shoulder as he straightened himself.

  He glanced back at Toa.

  “Five minutes is all I need to deal with you.”

  Toa barked a laugh.

  “You ain’t figuring me out in no damn five minutes you cocky little bastard.”

  More Essenz surged around Toa.

  “Duplicate Core: Phantom Surround!”

  Four new clones erupted around Ashur in a perfect circle.

  They attacked at once.

  Ashur’s patience finally snapped.

  His hand flickered across the air.

  An invisible force tore outward.

  The four clones froze in their tracks.

  Then their bodies split cleanly in half and dissolved into fading Essenz.”

  Toa’s eyes widened.

  What the hell…?

  He didn’t even name that attack.

  How is he already using an attack on that level without an incantation?

  Ashur noticed the expression immediately.

  “Awh,” he mocked softly, “what’s wrong? Upset that I can deal with your little toys now?”

  “Shut your mouth!”

  Toa thrust his hands forward.

  “Duplicate Core: Giant Duplicate!”

  Essenz roared outward.

  A massive version of Toa formed infront of him—eight times his size, towering over the arena like a walking flesh fortress.

  The crowd erupted.

  Toa was already breathing harder, panting heavily. His hand clasped his chest in exhaustion.

  Damnit… that cost way too much Essenz to perform…

  The giant clone moved.

  It lifted its foot up high.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Then brought it crashing down.

  Ashur rolled away just before impact.

  BOOM!

  The ground shattered beneath the stomp, cracks spider webbing across the arena floor.

  The giant swung its leg next.

  Ashur ducked under it, wind from the kick ripping through his hair.

  “That was close” he said with a grin.

  Toas face twisted with irritation.

  “Just give up already damnit!”

  “Nope.”

  Ashur stepped forward—

  —And the giants hand closed around him.

  The crowd gasped as Ashur was lifted multiples of meters into the air.

  Toa grinned, breathing heavy.

  “What do you think of that, bastard?” He shouted.

  “I’ve finally caught you!”

  Ashur simply smiled.

  “Look again.”

  His fingers moved.

  “Slash Core: Vector Sever.”

  A perfectly straight slash tore through the air.

  The giants arm separated instantly.

  Ashur dropped with the falling hand.

  More finger flicks followed.

  Thin lines of slashes carved the giants fingers apart mid fall.

  Ashur kicked off the collapsing hand and launched himself forward.

  Straight at Toa.

  Fuck! Toa’s mind screamed.

  A clone appeared infront of him as a shield.

  Ashur flicked his fingers once more.

  The clone split apart.

  Toa threw himself sideways.

  However, the slash still caught him.

  His foot came off cleanly.

  A moment of silence.

  Then blood erupted from the stump.

  “AGH—!”

  Toa crashed into the floor screaming, blood spraying across the floor.

  Ashur landed gracefully nearby.

  But Toa wasn’t done just yet.

  Through the pain he forced more Essenz out.

  “Duplicate Core: Mirror Legion!”

  Dozens of clones flooded the arena again, surrounding Ashur in a chaotic storm of bodies.

  While they attacked, Toa slammed his hands against the ground.

  “Duplicate Core: Limb Replacement!”

  Essenz knitted together around the stump rapidly.

  A new foot formed and fused onto his leg.

  He forced himself upright panting violently.

  “Damn… you…”

  Ashur barely seemed concerned.

  “I told you I’d kill you,” he said calmly. “These clones won’t last long.”

  His fingers traced a curved line through the air.

  “Slash Core: Execution Curve.”

  A sweeping arc ripped forward.

  Every clone around him froze.

  Then their heads slid off simultaneously.

  Dozens of bodies collapsed into dissolving Essenz.

  Silence returned.

  Ashur began walking towards Toa.

  Slowly and steadily.

  Toa felt his stomach drop.

  That was my… last defense…

  My Essenz is gone…

  Ashur stopped a few steps away.

  “You were playing a fool’s game, Toa.” He said.

  “And you’re an even greater fool for thinking it would work.”

  “You wasted your Essenz haphazardly trying to kill me.”

  He shrugged slightly.

  “I haven’t even scratched the surface of mine.”

  “You lose.”

  Toa raised his hands quickly.

  “WAIT!”

  Ashur paused.

  “What.”

  Toa’s voice shook with frustration.

  “How were you using attacks without naming them?! That’s impossible! Naming attacks doubles their power… so how the hell were yours that strong?!”

  Ashur stared at him for a moment.

  Then suddenly burst out laughing.

  “Ah… you simpleton.”

  He wiped a tear from his eye.

  “Of course named attacks are stronger, because names hold power. That much is true.”

  “But once your Core and Essenz mastery reach a certain level…”

  His smile returned.

  “You no longer need the incantation.”

  “Ultimately, it does make the attack weaker but, it gives you more time to act.”

  Toa’s face twisted in realization.

  “You bastard… you were holding back this entire time, weren’t you? You were playing with m—“

  Ashur’s fingers formed a scissor motion.

  Snap.

  Toa blinked.

  “…What?”

  Then his body slid apart.

  A horizontal cut opened through his abdomen.

  His torso separated slowly from his legs.

  Blood erupted from the wound like a fountain.

  His spine snapped apart as organs spilled across the floor.

  Half his body collapsed forward with a wet thud.

  The other half followed seconds later.

  Ashur looked down at the corpse.

  “I don’t like weaklings,” he said coldly.

  “Especially ones who pretend to be strong.”

  The arena exploded with cheers.

  The crowd roared louder than before.

  Maurice looked like he might nearly faint from excitement.

  His eyes locked onto the massive number rising beside Ashur’s name.

  [500,000,000 Gold Coins]

  He slammed his hand onto the railing.

  “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!”

  His voice cracked with manic excitement.

  “THAT WAS THE FINAL MATCH OF THE QUARTER-FINALS YET WE ONLY HAVE 2 PARTICIPANTS LEFT!”

  “WHICH MEANS WE ARE SKIPPING STRAIGHT TO THE FINALS!”

  The crowd erupted again.

  Maurice turned towards Ashur, beaming.

  “My dear boy, please remain in the arena! Your opponent will surely be brought out immediately!”

  Ashur shrugged and casually sat down on the stone floor.

  Maurice turned back towards the roaring nobles.

  “THE FINAL MATCH WILL BE BETWEEN…”

  He stretched the words dramatically.

  “ASHUR GRAVES—“

  The crowd leaned forward.

  “— AND ZEPHYR!”

  The arena exploded.

  Servants rushed towards the chamber to retrieve Zephyr.

  They reached the shattered door.

  One servant peeked through.

  Inside—

  There was a massive hole torn through the stone wall.

  Four shattered collars lay on the ground.

  Neutralized.

  The servants went into a panic, turning pale almost instantly at the sight.

  They ran.

  Meanwhile with Zephyr,

  He walked slowly through the tunnel, carrying his friends.

  Aron.

  Lya.

  Lazarus.

  Lya was being carried in his arms, Aron and Lazarus were tied to his back with a makeshift rope made from their shirts.

  Their unconscious forms hung limp.

  “Don’t worry guys… I’ll get you all out of here.”

  “We’re done participating in this stupid tournament.”

  He fired a lightning bolt upward.

  The rock ceiling cracked open, revealing the sun-lit sky above.

  Fresh air rushed in.

  Zephyr climbed out of the tunnel stepping onto the surface, blinded by the sunlight.

  He walked for many minutes in the heat until the shoreline appeared.

  A small paddleboat rested besides a cluster of rocks and trees.

  He gently laid his friends down beside it.

  He then crouched beside them.

  His expression softened, that of one with kindness and compassion.

  He looked at them with his kind blue eyes.

  “You guys sleep tight,” he said quietly.

  “This will all be over soon.”

  He stood up.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “I have a promise to keep.”

  With Maurice,

  “What do you mean he’s not there?!”

  Maurice’s face turned red with fury.

  “Check again, you worthless slaves!”

  The servants trembled before him.

  “The chamber is empty sir! The collars were destroyed!”

  Maurice slammed his fists against the railing.

  And then—

  Lightning cracked across the sky.

  A figure appeared above the arena.

  Zephyr descended slowly and landed on the stone floor.

  “No need to check again, Maurice.”

  His voice was calm.

  “This tournament is as good as over.”

  Maurice glared down at him.

  “And why do you think that?!”

  Zephyr looked up at him.

  “Because I’m going to kill you.”

  Maurice’s heart dropped.

  Zephyr raised his hand.

  Lightning erupted towards Maurice—

  —But a slash intercepted the bolt, cutting it and dispersing the lightning.

  Ashur stood infront of Zephyr.

  “Oh come on,” he said with a grin.

  “Don’t tell me you forgot about me.”

  Zephyr’s eyes shifted toward him.

  “Stay. Out. Of. This.”

  Ashur glanced at the metal collar around his own neck.

  “Damn thing’s annoying.”

  He sliced it in half with a quick gesture and then threw it away.

  The collar exploded some few meters from them.

  Ashur stretched slightly before facing Zephyr again.

  “I hate that fat greedy bastard just as much as you do.” He admitted.

  “But I can’t let you kill him.”

  He grinned wider.

  “We still have a tournament to finish.”

  Zephyrs voice turned cold.

  “If you’re going to stand in my way…”

  “Then I’ll murder you.”

  “And then everyone else in this colosseum.”

  The crowd fell silent.

  Maurice’s eyes widened.

  “ASHUR!” he shouted.

  “If you win, I’ll give you Three, No! Four hundred million gold coins and your own island!”

  Ashur was practically grinning ear to ear once he’d heard it.

  “Well,” he said.

  “You heard the fat bastard, blondie.”

  He rolled his shoulders.

  “Come on.”

  “Let’s fight.”

  Zephyr scoffed.