The arena buzzed with an eerie silence as the final seconds of the timer ticked away. Above the blood-soaked sand, the sky seemed to hold its breath. The survivors, all fifteen of them, stood in their own tight circles, eyes sharp, nerves wired.
Aryan's fists were clenched so tightly, his knuckles turned white.
"It's do or die now," he muttered to Kat, standing beside him.
Kat gave a single nod, his sword gleaming under the arena lights. "Stay close. We can't afford to get separated."
Out of the corner of his eye, Aryan spotted the healing girl—small, trembling, alone.
He quickly jogged to her side. "Hey," he said, gently. "If you're scared, stay close to us. We'll protect you."
She blinked, startled by his kindness. "Th-thank you. I didn't know where to go. I can help with healing... but I can't fight."
Kat joined them, giving a quick nod. "That works for us. Healing backup could keep us going longer. Stay behind and focus on support. We'll give you cover."
"Okay... I will," she said, finding a bit more confidence in their presence.
Then the timer screamed: 10. 9. 8.
Bandits across the arena began rising from their seats like shadows in a nightmare, one by one. They poured into the sand, forming a wide, tightening circle around the fifteen fighters. Dozens turned to hundreds.
Blades were drawn. Magic ignited in the air, crackling like a thunderstorm ready to break. The arena floor trembled with tension.
Kat took a deep breath, lowering his stance. Aryan shook the tension from his arms, rolling his shoulders, eyes darting between bandits.
"Let the final round... BEGIN!" the announcer roared.
All at once, chaos exploded.
The wave of bandits surged forward like a tsunami of steel and fire. Swords clanged, magic ripped through the air, screams echoed across the walls.
Kat was the first to move. With a shout, he launched himself into the crowd, unleashing his signature technique: Sword Hurricane. His blade became a whirlwind, slicing through bandits in a beautiful, brutal dance. Limbs flew. Blood sprayed.
Aryan enhanced his muscles and charged, fists blazing with raw strength. He slammed into the front line, knocking three men down in one blow. One lunged at him with a spear, but Aryan ducked low, countered with a crushing uppercut, and sent the attacker flying.
Behind them, the healer girl worked quickly. "Focus up! I'm covering your wounds!" she yelled. Her hands glowed soft blue as she healed Kat's nicked arm and Aryan's bruised ribs.
A roar from the other side of the arena pulled their eyes.
Molly, the dual sword user, was a storm of metal. His twin blades danced like fangs, slicing through anything in reach.
Next to him, Blot was a walking inferno. Covered in flame armor, he summoned twin swords of pure fire and tore through his enemies. Bandits screamed as they burned.
But the bandits weren't helpless.
Some used water magic, extinguishing Blot's flames with tidal surges. Others wielded blade spells of their own, locking swords with Molly and Kat.
One bandit, sneering, shouted, "You're not the only ones with tricks!"
A bolt of gravity magic slammed into the ground, sending Aryan flying backward. He rolled, groaning, only to be caught mid-air by a second bandit's electric blast.
"Aryan!" the healer girl screamed, launching a healing spell that softened the blow just in time.
Aryan growled and pushed himself up, blood dripping from his forehead. "Still alive," he muttered, and dove back into the fight.
In another corner, the power magic user, the same one who eliminated the survivors in Round 2, carved his way through the battlefield. His aura was monstrous. Each blow knocked bandits aside like rag dolls.
Suddenly, a massive surge of magic struck him. The power user stumbled back, shocked.
A bandit with glowing silver eyes stepped forward. He lifted his hand, forming a sphere of concentrated power energy, and hurled it.
A shockwave erupted.
The arena cracked.
But before the power user could respond, a flash of lightning tore through the battlefield.
The mysterious fighter, the same one who'd killed the crawler with a light saber, had joined the fray.
He moved like a ghost, his form flickering between bursts of electricity. He left nothing but corpses in his wake.
High above, Roy, the bandit leader, watched it all with an amused smile.
"So... you've finally stepped in," he muttered.
And then, he jumped.
His body crashed into the sand like a meteor. The entire arena shook. Bandits fell back. Even the survivors paused in awe.
Roy raised his hand. Ice formed in the air, spiraling around him. His power was suffocating.
The mysterious man smiled. For the first time, he spoke.
"Finally, the leader shows up."
Lightning surged from his fingertips.
Roy countered with an ice barrier. The moment their powers clashed—
BOOM.
The explosion shattered the center of the arena.
A storm of frost and thunder erupted in all directions. Bandits and survivors alike were hurled back like leaves in a hurricane. Stone cracked. Dust swirled. Vision was lost.
Aryan tumbled backward, slamming into the wall with a painful grunt. Kat landed a few feet from him, coughing.
The healer girl screamed as she barely avoided a falling chunk of debris.
And when the dust settled... all that remained at the center was a deep crater, steam rising from its heart.
Roy stood there, frost curling off his armor. Across from him, the mysterious man emerged from lightning like a vengeful god.
Their eyes locked.
Everyone watching knew: this fight was far from over.
Chapter End.