The crowd stirred when the next match was announced.

  “Cruciverum — Beast.”

  “Zenithellion — Yami.”

  A pause.

  Whispers spread like fire.

  Yami did not step forward.

  Instead, a tall figure walked into the arena, eyes distant, movements calm.

  Itsuki.

  The announcer hesitated, then corrected himself.

  “Fighter replacement confirmed. Zenithellion — Itsuki.”

  Beast vs Itsuki

  Beast cracked his neck and smiled.

  “You don’t look like a fighter,” he said.

  “You look lost.”

  Itsuki didn’t answer.

  His eyes scanned the crowd.

  Left. Right. Upper rings. Outer seats.

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  No sign of Yua.

  The horn sounded.

  The ground exploded.

  Beast rushed forward, each step shaking the arena. He swung his fist — not at Itsuki’s head, but at the air itself.

  The impact sent a shockwave tearing across the stone floor.

  But the punch passed through.

  Itsuki’s body turned transparent.

  Beast frowned.

  “Hiding tricks?”

  The sky darkened.

  Beast raised his arms, Viora surging through his veins.

  Above them, burning meteors formed, screaming as they fell.

  The crowd gasped.

  Itsuki lifted his hand.

  The meteors hit.

  And passed through him.

  They smashed into the arena instead, detonating behind him in fire and stone.

  Dust swallowed the field.

  Beast charged through the smoke, roaring.

  He caught Itsuki mid-air—

  —or so he thought.

  Itsuki faded again.

  Beast was suddenly trapped inside his own meteor crater, Itsuki standing behind him.

  A fist formed inches from Beast’s back.

  But Beast laughed.

  His muscles swelled. He punched upward, shattering the stone around him and forcing his way out.

  Blood ran down his arm.

  Still smiling.

  “Annoying,” he said.

  Minutes passed like hours.

  Beast couldn’t land a clean hit.

  Itsuki couldn’t find what he was searching for.

  Itsuki’s eyes kept drifting to the stands.

  Nothing.

  His shoulders sank.

  “I’m done,” he said quietly.

  The crowd froze.

  Beast blinked. “What?”

  “I can’t find her,” Itsuki said. “There’s no point.”

  He turned away.

  The announcer rose in panic.

  But—

  Itsuki vanished.

  The air bent.

  He reappeared above Beast, fist drawn back, Viora condensed into a perfect strike.

  Beast looked up.

  Itsuki stopped.

  His fist hovered inches from Beast’s face.

  “…It’s over for today,” Itsuki said.

  He stepped back.

  The horn sounded.

  Match end.

  For a moment, no one spoke.

  Then the arena exploded with noise.

  Haru vs Aika

  The next fighters stepped in without hesitation.

  Haru’s stance was calm.

  Aika’s eyes burned with focus.

  Steel clashed instantly.

  Fast. Precise. Relentless.

  Aika pressed forward with sharp, cutting strikes, forcing Haru back step by step. Sparks flew as blades met again and again.

  Haru slipped between attacks, her movements smooth, controlled.

  Aika roared and unleashed everything she had.

  Haru didn’t retreat.

  She stepped in.

  One clean strike.

  Then another.

  Aika fell to one knee, breathing hard, smiling through the pain.

  “Guess… you’re stronger,” she admitted.

  Haru lowered her blade and nodded.

  Respect.

  The horn sounded.

  Result

  Zenithellion — Victory.

  The crowd cheered, unaware of the quiet storm growing behind the scenes.

  And somewhere in the stands—