Eren's face twisted in rage, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his sword. "What did you just say? Girlfriend?"
Ashen smirked, pulling Sasha closer. "Yes. Mine."
Sasha stiffened in his arms, her tear-streaked face flashing confusion—then reluctant understanding. She gave a tiny nod, playing along.
Eren's laugh was jagged. "So this is why she said that in recording, she rejected me! You—!"
"What exactly did she say?" Ashen interrupted, though he already knew.
Eren's voice dripped venom. "'I'd rather die than be bound to you.' Someone recorded it. Now I see why—she's already your whore!"
Ashen's shadow lashed out, slicing the air inches from Eren's throat. "Careful. That's my girlfriend you're insulting."
Eren added with full of emotions "wont understand for 2 weeks i have been observing her i had interest in her I wanted her I loved her.
"Let's settle this," Ashen said, his voice deceptively light. "A duel. For Sasha. If I win, you vanish from her life. If you win, I step aside."
Eren's grin was feral. "You think you can beat me? You?"
Noora stepped forward, her crimson eyes sharp. "Brother, listen—he's a trickster. Define the rules clearly."
Eren waved her off. "No VR. Real pain. Any weapons. One-on-one."
Layla, who'd been silently observing, finally spoke. "Since Rank Challenges are closed, this will be a registered spar in the Warzone Arena. No audience. Just us."
"Fine," Ashen agreed, his grip tightening around Sasha's waist. "We fight. Now."
Eren mirrored him. "Now."
Alice sighed. "Then prepare yourselves."
The Warzone Arena was a brutal expanse of scorched earth and lingering magic. No barriers. No safety protocols. Just raw, unfiltered combat.
Ashen stretched, rolling his shoulders.
[System: You're enjoying this too much.]
"Obviously."
Sasha said "Why are you doing this you made my life more hell than it was.
I turned to her patted her "As I promised earlier everything would be fine".
Eren drew his sword—a gleaming relic of the Whitehound lineage, its edge humming with light energy. "No tricks, Crimson. Just steel and pain."
Ashen summoned his shadow blade, the inky darkness writhing. "Oh, Eren," he murmured. "You still don't get it."
"Begin!" Layla's voice cut through the tension.
Eren lunged.
Eren's blade flashed with golden light as he closed the distance in a heartbeat, his movements honed through years of elite training. The Whitehound heir fought with the precision of a master duelist, each strike aimed to kill rather than wound. Ashen barely sidestepped the first thrust, feeling the scorching heat of holy energy singe his cheek as the sword passed within millimeters of his face. The smell of burnt ozone filled the air as their weapons finally clashed—shadow against light, darkness against radiance in a shower of sparks that illuminated the war-torn arena.
Sasha's nails dug bloody crescents into her palms as she watched from the safety line, Noora's grip tight on her shoulder like a gilded cage. "Don't even think about interfering," the Whitehound princess warned, her crimson eyes locked on the battle. The unspoken threat hung heavy between them—one wrong move, and Sasha would join the growing list of Eren's victims.
The first brutal exchange left smoking craters across the ancient battlefield. Eren moved with the practiced grace of someone who had been swinging a sword since he could walk, his family's legendary swordsmanship on full display. Each slash carried enough force to cleave stone, his footwork impeccable as he pressed the attack. Yet Ashen flowed like liquid night between the barrage of strikes, his shadow blade dissolving and reforming to counter each attack with eerie precision. Where Eren fought with rigid discipline, Ashen fought like a living storm—unpredictable, relentless, and utterly without mercy.
"You fight like a coward!" Eren spat, unleashing a devastating wave of searing light that forced Ashen to skid back several meters, his boots leaving molten grooves in the earth. "Always hiding in shadows like the rat you are!"
Ashen grinned, wiping blood from his split lip with the back of his hand. The coppery taste only sharpened his focus. "And you fight like a spoiled prince who's never had to struggle for anything in his pampered life." He twirled his shadow blade lazily. "Tell me, Eren—have you ever actually fought for something? Or has everything just been handed to you?"
Eren's eyes burned with righteous fury, his grip tightening on his sword until his knuckles turned white. "You know nothing about me!" he roared, raising his blade high. The weapon erupted in blinding radiance, the light so intense it forced even Layla and Noora to shield their eyes. The very air vibrated with power as Eren channeled his family's sacred techniques—the same techniques that had once purged entire battlefields of darkness.
But Ashen simply closed his eyes.
[System: Now!]
His shadow senses painted the world in pulses of heat and movement, rendering Eren's blinding light irrelevant. When the prince's final strike came screaming toward his heart, Ashen wasn't there.
In one fluid motion, he melted into the shadows beneath Eren's feet and reappeared behind him, his inky blade materializing at the prince's throat before anyone could react. The cold edge pressed just enough to draw a thin line of blood—a warning, not yet a killing blow.
The arena fell deathly silent.
"Checkmate," Ashen whispered, his breath ghosting over Eren's ear.
The Whitehound heir froze, his sword slipping from numb fingers to clatter against the scorched earth. His breath came in ragged, disbelieving gasps as the reality of his defeat crashed over him. He had been outplayed from the very beginning—not through brute strength, but through cunning, patience, and an intimate understanding of his opponent's weaknesses.
A choked sound broke the silence. Sasha had broken free from Noora's grip, her eyes wide with disbelief and something dangerously close to hope. Ashen turned to her, the shadows around him dissipating like morning mist to reveal the boy beneath the monster.
"Told you everything would be fine," he said softly, offering her a bloodstained hand.