Third Stage: Elemental Duel of Prodigies~
The crowd could barely breathe as the fight entered its deadliest phase. Kairon's eye—now a swirling vortex of crimson and gold, lightning crackling outward—burned with the intensity of a living storm. The Empress, battered but unyielding, faced him with her violet, wind-wreathed blade, her aura shimmering with potent magic. "He's truly something else," she acknowledged, a flicker of grudging respect mixing with her fierce resolve. "But I won't fall here."
Their swords clashed, not just sparks but showers of molten stars, each blow a percussive symphony, a test of will and skill that echoed through the arena. Both were fighting to kill—no more holding back, no more quarter given.
Kairon's power, speed, and sixth sense were now at their absolute peak. He vanished and reappeared, attacking from impossible angles, his movements a flickering phantom, a blur even to the most skilled eyes. His Zone and Lightning Overdrive made him a specter, his every strike guided by a predator's infallible instinct.
The Empress adapted in real time, her magic enhancing her speed, perception, and strength. She created a semi-transparent barrier—a spatial awareness field, visible only to those with the keenest focus as a faint shimmer in the air. It didn't block attacks, but it allowed her to anticipate Kairon's unpredictable strikes within a three-meter radius, the air around her subtly rippling, like disturbed heat. She teleported in and out, her martial prowess and magic on full display, her remaining sword glowing with a violet, transparent aura of wind.
Audience:
Awe-struck silence falls, broken only by gasps as shockwaves rattle the stands. Some spectators can't even follow the action, seeing only flashes, afterimages and the concussive shockwaves of their blows.
Kairon lunged, his stolen sword thrusting at the Empress. She parried and countered, landing a swift jab to his face. He fell—but as he hit the ground, his agility, flexibility, and speed took over. Twisting at the last instant, he used the shattered earth as a springboard, launching into his Lion's Combo. His foot shot upward, kicking the Empress high into the air with a force that sent a visible shockwave through her.
He followed her, moving close behind, matching her trajectory like a shadow follows a leaf. In midair, he provoked her into attacking, countering her blows and kicking her higher with each exchange, each impact driving them further into the sky, the air thinning around them. The faster and higher they moved, the more devastating the impact would be when he finally sent her crashing down.
At the apex, Kairon unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, then aimed to finish with a devastating heel drop. The Empress, sensing the lethal danger, twisted away with a gasp of effort and landed nimbly on her feet, her sole sword at the ready.
She slashed her sword in rapid motion, unleashing a barrage of multiple violet wind arcs that shrieked through the air. Kairon countered with Great Breakthrough, a massive gust of wind that shattered her attack and propelled him even higher into the air.
From above, he saw her and her shimmering barrier below. He unleashed Vacuum Spear and Great Vacuum Spear—razor-sharp wind projectiles that tore through the air with a menacing hiss. The Empress responded with another wave of violet wind arcs, the sky above the arena exploding in a storm of elemental fury, streaks of violet wind meeting invisible blades of air, the air itself vibrating with the sheer force.
Kairon changed his falling trajectory with Flying Wind Locust, then vanished with Shunshin, reappearing directly behind the Empress's barrier. He slammed his foot down with Earth Release: Earth Stomp.
The ground fractured, spiderweb cracks racing across the arena with a groaning roar that echoed like a dying beast. Chunks of concrete and metal shrieked as they were torn asunder, creating a chaotic landscape of jagged debris. The tremors burrowed deep, rupturing the hidden water pipes beneath. Water burst forth in powerful geysers, hissing as they met the hot, charged air, flooding the newly formed craters and fissures, transforming the battlefield into a treacherous mix of jagged earth and surging, steaming water.
Announcer:
"Raze has changed the entire battlefield! This is a new realm of combat!"
The Empress, caught off guard by the sudden, radical destruction of her arena, staggered back, her eyes wide with a flicker of raw astonishment. This wasn't just a powerful attack; it was a total environmental overhaul. "He's changing the entire battlefield… an unpredictable monster."
Before she could regain her bearings, Kairon was upon her—his movement a fluid, ethereal blur, the air around him warping with crackling energy. It was as if his body had become lightning itself, navigating the chaotic, water-slicked terrain with effortless grace. Every step left lingering afterimages and a low, electric hum that vibrated through the arena, making the water shimmer.
The Empress instinctively raised her remaining short sword to defend, but Kairon's sixth sense flared, guiding him through her defenses before she could fully react. He anticipated her parry, her block, the subtle shift of her weight—then, with a lightning-quick feint, dodged under her guard. His hand, charged with chakra/mana absorption, shot out—not to strike, but to seize. With a twisting wrench and a surge of stolen power, he tore her ornate short sword from her grip, the metallic tang of absorbed chakra flaring like a silent cry in the humid air, leaving her hand starkly empty. "My weapon… again!" her mind screamed in disbelief.
Without missing a beat, Kairon channeled lightning-natured chakra into the stolen blade. The short sword began to hum, vibrating at a frequency that blurred the metal, a terrifying silver-blue arc—Supervibrato Lightning Release Swords. He unleashed a torrent of cuts and thrusts, each strike enhanced with piercing and cutting power, a blinding, lethal dance of light. The Empress, now entirely disarmed, struggled to evade his relentless assault, a flicker of true, unadulterated fear in her eyes.
Kairon followed up with Lightning Flash Sword, a series of blindingly fast slashes that created arcs of crackling electrical energy. He launched himself into the air, the stolen short sword poised, and brought it down in a powerful Lightning Release: Lightning Fang—a searing bolt of pure lightning erupting from the blade, arcing toward the Empress.
She dodged the direct strike, but Kairon landed amidst the puddles and streams of water. He stomped his foot, not to shatter the ground, but as a setup: Water Style: Water Shaking Pillar. Water erupted with a violent whoosh, forming a surging pillar that repelled the Empress and elevated Kairon for a tactical advantage, the spray catching the arena lights like glittering diamonds.
From this elevated position, he unleashed Water Release: Water Blade Technique—a column of water, sharp as steel, slicing toward the Empress. She narrowly avoided it, the spray showering around her like shattered glass.
Kairon transitioned seamlessly. In his right hand, the Empress's stolen sword shimmered, now a conduit for his will. He exhaled, sending a torrent of wind-infused chakra around the blade—Wind Release: Vacuum Blade. The edge glowed with an ethereal green, vibrating with lethal intensity, its length extending impossibly, humming with predatory intent.
With his left hand, he summoned the Hidden in a Waterfall Style: Watercutting Sword—water coalescing into a razor-sharp blade of pure, pressurized liquid, reflecting the chaotic lights of the arena.
Now, Kairon was a dual-wielding force of nature: Vacuum Blade in his right, humming with predatory wind; Watercutting Sword in his left, gleaming with liquid sharpness. The Empress, eyes wide with genuine shock and awe, realized she was facing not just an opponent, but an elemental whirlwind, a master of the very forces of nature. Kairon's Lightning Overdrive pulsed, his movements impossibly swift as he lunged forward, the two blades arcing in a deadly symphony of wind and water.
The battle for the ruined arena had just escalated into a new, terrifying realm—one where only true prodigies could survive.
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Final Stage: Elemental whirlwind
The arena was chaos incarnate. Water surged in deep craters, wind howled through shattered pillars, and lightning crackled in the charged air. At the center, Kairon's eye—a hypnotic spiral of crimson, alive with flickering red lightning—locked onto the Empress, whose new blade glowed with a fierce violet, wrapped in a transparent aura of wind.
The Empress gripped the shattered remains of her weapon, her will burning brighter than ever. With a surge of magic, she reforged it—an odachi-macuahuitl hybrid, the blade long and straight, nearly as tall as she was. Razor-sharp violet crystal "teeth" shimmered along both sides, a transparent wind aura making the blade glow like a lightsaber forged from a storm. Magic coursed through its core, allowing it to flex and absorb impacts or stiffen for devastating strikes, a weapon worthy of a legend.
Kairon gripped two swords: in his right, the Watercutting Sword, a straight blade forged from pressurized water, its edge rippling with liquid sharpness; in his left, the stolen sword of the Empress, now transformed by his wind chakra into a Vacuum Blade. Each exhale sent a near-invisible, razor-thin aura extending the blade's reach, every swing unleashing slicing gusts that could cut at a distance.
Announcer (in awe):
"The Empress has conjured a new blade—look at that odachi-macuahuitl, glowing with stormlight! look at that! But Raze… he's dual-wielding, one blade of water, one of wind! Every strike could be the last this is the pinnacle of martial and magical prowess!"
He moved like a force of nature, one blade flowing with the grace of water, the other slicing the air with deadly wind. He weaved through the battlefield, using the environment itself—reflecting light off puddles to blind, kicking up water to obscure, launching off debris for unpredictable angles. Lightning danced around him, not just enhancing his speed but subtly supercharging the cutting power of every strike, turning the waterlogged ground into a dangerous conductor.
Their blades met in the center of the arena with a shattering crackle, water and wind colliding in a spray of droplets and crackling energy. Kairon slashed with the Watercutting Sword, the blade hissing as it met the Empress's crystal edge. Steam exploded where wind and magic collided. The Empress countered, swinging her odachi-macuahuitl in a sweeping arc, the wind aura extending the blade's reach. Kairon blocked with the Vacuum Blade, the clash sending out a shockwave that rippled through the waterlogged arena.
She launched a barrage of wind-charged crystal projectiles. Kairon spun, slicing them from the air with precise swings, then lunged forward, exhaling wind chakra to extend the Vacuum Blade and force her back. The Empress responded with a storm of violet wind arcs, twisting her blade to send slicing energy at Kairon. He raised a wall of wind to shield himself, then lashed out with a water whip that snaked around her sword, trying to wrench it free. She twisted, using the sword's flexibility to break free, then retaliated with a burst of wind that sent Kairon skidding back.
Lightning crackled across the flooded ground as Kairon electrified the water, forcing the Empress to leap skyward. He followed, launching a vacuum wave from the stolen sword, but she spun in midair, riding the wind and hurling more projectiles down at him. She landed, blade glowing, and swept it in a wide arc, sending a wave of wind and crystal shards at Kairon. He met the attack head-on, dual blades spinning—a storm of water and wind, lightning flashing with every movement.
For every attack, there was a counter. For every advantage, a disadvantage. The battlefield became a blur of elemental fury and magical brilliance, a chaotic ballet where strategy and raw power danced on the edge of destruction.
Audience:
The arena shakes underfoot. Some fans leap to their feet, waving flags or fists, while others are frozen, eyes wide, mouths agape. Every clash draws a new wave of cheers, shrieks, and stunned exclamations.
Kairon's water and wind flowed with relentless unpredictability, his lightning enhancing every strike, while the Empress's blade flexed between overwhelming power and surgical precision, her magic adapting to every threat. Each displayed the full extent of their skills, neither able to claim dominance, both battered but unbroken.
In the eye of the storm, crimson and violet clashed—two legends,perfectly matched, ready for their final, ultimate attacks.
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Final Stage: The Last Decisive Clash – The Dragons' Dance and Emperor's Roaring Laughter~
Sensing the time for a decisive blow, Kairon formed a single hand seal. Two shadow clones appeared, each radiating the same fierce aura as the original, their forms solid and menacing.
"Leaf Dragon God!" Kairon roared, his voice cutting through the din, imbued with the raw force of the coming storm. A tornado exploded upward, twisting into a colossal dragon with streaming whiskers body was a fortress of razor winds, eyes burning with the same crimson spiral as Kairon's own, a low, guttural growl emanating from its swirling form.
"Lightning Water Dragon Bullet!" cried the first clone. Water surged, coiling into a serpentine dragon. Lightning crackled through its scales, making it shimmer with lethal energy, illuminating the swirling water like a contained storm. The clone followed with "Electromagnetic Murder!"—arcs of electricity supercharged the water dragon, turning it into a living, crackling storm.
Great Majestic Destroyer Flames!" intoned the second clone, his voice deep and resonating. A torrent of hellfire erupted, igniting the wind dragon. The tornado-dragon's scales became a living inferno, fire and wind spiraling in a maelstrom of destruction, the air around it shimmering with intense heat.
The two dragons spiraled around each other, their roars shaking the heavens, a symphony of elemental fury. Wind and fire, water and lightning—each element weaving, clashing, and combining in a spectacle that left the audience breathless, their cheers dying in their throats.
The Empress, refusing to yield, raised her blade, her face etched with fierce defiance, and chanted in an ancient African tongue, her voice ringing with power, each word echoing with a deep, resonant magic:
"Nguvu ya kale, simba wa mwangaza, choma adui yangu sasa!"
(Power of the ancients, lion of light, strike down my enemy now!)
A neon violet lion, massive and majestic, erupted from her magic. Its spectral mane flickered with ethereal fire, eyes burning with indomitable will. With a roar that shook the soul, a sound that seemed to tear at the very fabric of reality, it charged at Kairon and his spiraling dragons, an unstoppable force meeting an unyielding storm.
Announcer (voice hoarse, almost reverent):
"Dragons—he's summoned dragons! Wind and fire, water and lightning—Raze has become a living legend! But the Empress—she's not backing down! She's conjured a neon lion of pure magic! It's… it's the end of the world in here!"
The two dragons and the lion met in the center of the arena. Their elemental fury collided—wind and fire, water and lightning, magic and raw will. The impact was apocalyptic:
They collide in a cataclysmic explosion. The shockwave rattles teeth and shakes the very foundation of the arena. For a moment, all is blinding light and deafening sound.
Audience:
A living sea of awe—some are weeping, others screaming, as the dragons and lion collide. The shockwave rattles teeth and shakes the very foundation of the arena. For a moment, all is blinding light and deafening sound.
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Aftermath:
As the blinding light faded, the Empress was barely standing,panting, her knees trembling, her aura flickering weakly like a dying flame. Her hair was disheveled, her armor scorched, but her eyes still held defiance. She staggered over, her steps heavy, and whispered a final word of strained respect— "You are worthy, but this is my victory…"
Kairon's body vanished in a puff of smoke—a shadow clone.
The real Kairon appeared behind her, his eye blazing with the last embers of the storm, a crimson spiral still alive with faint lightning, like dying embers. He delivered a swift, powerful punch that sent the Empress flying, finally knocking her out cold, her body collapsing with a soft thud. He'd felt the crushing impact of the explosion, even through the wind dragon's shield, a phantom ache echoing in his true body, a testament to the raw power of the clash. It was a gamble, a desperate, split-second decision based on her pride and his fading strength. The soldier pill had given him just enough energy to pull off this final, cunning move. Victory was his, hard-won and deceptively claimed, a whispered triumph in the ruined arena.
Announcer (voice trembling):
"As the dust settles… the Empress stands, but—wait! Raze's body vanishes—it was a clone! The real Raze—he's behind her! And with a final blow, the Empress falls! The winner—Raze!"
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Epilogue:
The arena was still trembling, the air thick with the acrid scent of ozone and scorched earth, the sound of rushing water filling the vast, cavernous space. For a heartbeat after the announcer's voice echoed—"The winner—Raze!"—there was only stunned silence, as if the world itself was too overwhelmed to respond.
Then the crowd erupted. Applause, cheers, and awed shouts crashed over the arena in waves, a deafening roar of triumph and disbelief, a sound almost as powerful as the battle itself. Yet, Kairon barely heard any of it. His vision blurred at the edges, the afterimage of his own eye—a crimson spiral alive with lightning—still burning in his mind, a ghostly echo of the power he had just wielded. The immense power of the Crimson Domain was fading, the storm within finally settling into a quiet exhaustion.
He stood in the center of the ruined battlefield, chest heaving, sweat and blood mingling on his skin. His eye, once a vortex of supernatural energy, slowly dimmed, the crackling red lightning flickering out as his Sharingan faded back to its natural gold. The Empress lay nearby, unconscious but dignified, her weapon returned to her side by Kairon's own hand—a silent gesture of respect in the chaos, a warrior's tribute.
Announcer (soft, reverent):
"A battle for the ages… a new legend walks among us. Raze, the Crimson Storm, has conquered the impossible."
Audience: The arena erupts—cheers, applause, and a chorus of "Raze! Raze! Raze!" echoing off the ruined walls. Some fans collapse in relief, others embrace, and everywhere, the legend of the Crimson storm is born.
Kairon raised a hand—not in triumph, but in quiet, weary acknowledgment. The crowd's roar swelled once more, but he felt a growing distance from it all, exhaustion crashing over him like a physical wave.
He turned, limping toward the corridor's darkness. Each step was a silent battle against collapse, his muscles screaming in protest, every fiber of his being aching. The fleeting effects of the soldier pill were gone, leaving only raw fatigue and a symphony of aches and pains that vibrated through his bones.
Audience:
As Raze limps away, the crowd's roar fades to a hush of awe and respect. Children whisper his name, and veterans shake their heads in disbelief. The memory of his crimson storm—will haunt them for years to come.
He barely registered the hands reaching out, the voices calling his name, the frantic flashes of cameras desperate to capture a piece of the storm that had just swept the arena.
But Kairon was already thinking ahead, his mind a step beyond the present moment. Before the match, he had prepared a shadow clone, hidden among the audience with a flawless Transformation Jutsu. As the real Kairon slipped into the shadows of the exit, the clone discreetly began erasing their tracks—disrupting chakra signatures, confusing magical sensors, and ensuring that no one could possibly follow, leaving only questions in their wake.
In the corridor's gloom, the clone emerged to meet him, its form shimmering into exact replication. Kairon's golden eye met his own reflection in the clone's steady gaze.A profound wave of relief washed over him, and his body finally gave in, the immense weight of battle and hard-won victory too much to bear. The Sharingan faded completely, its crimson hues receding, and for the first time in hours, Kairon allowed himself to truly rest, the tension finally bleeding from his limbs.
The clone caught him before he could fall, lifting him with silent care. As they vanished into the city's labyrinthine shadows, the clone continued to erase every trace of their passage. The legend of the Crimson storm faded into whispers, leaving behind only awe, unanswered questions, and a single, golden-eyed warrior carried silently into the night.
The storm had passed. But its memory, a whirlwind of crimson and violet, would haunt the arena for years to come—a legend born from chaos.