Reginald’s towering figure loomed before Ellie.
The crowd stood frozen, wide-eyed in disbelief. What kind of sorcery is this? they thought. No one had ever seen magic that could turn an obese noble into a ten-foot armored beast.

“I got into this mess because of you!” Reginald roared.
“If that bootlicker Fulke hadn’t brought you to me, none of this would’ve happened!”
His voice rumbled through the barrier, every word dripping with venom.
“If I’m going down, I’ll make damn sure you’re coming with me!”
A hiss of black smoke vented from his helmet, twisting like steam from a furnace.

“Both combatants—ready!” Tyrone’s deep voice cut through the air.
Both Ellie and Reginald nodded.
Tyrone raised his palm and cast a spell, a faint green glow washing over their bodies before fading into the air.

He then raised his hand toward the sky.
“BEGIN!”

Reginald moved first — faster than anyone expected.
BOOM!
His axe slammed into the ground, a deafening crash that sent dust and broken earth flying in every direction.
He didn’t stop.
BAM! BOOM! BAM!
Strike after strike pounded the arena floor where Ellie had stood seconds ago.

“Die, you bitch!” Reginald roared, lost in rage.
Dust rolled like a storm cloud around him, swallowing his form.
The crowd gasped at the sheer power behind his blows—then fell silent.

Then came a flash of red from Reginald’s back.
He froze.

“One,” Tyrone’s calm voice declared.

Reginald turned sharply and stumbled back — Ellie stood behind him, poised, her spear drawn low. 

The crowd erupted. Shock turned to awe.

“You can do it, Ellie!” someone shouted.
“Teach that pig a lesson!” another cried.
The silence broke into a chorus of cheers that shook the air.

Reginald sneered behind his helmet.
“You just got lucky!”

He lunged forward again, his heavy armor pounding the dirt.
A swift vertical strike came down with terrifying force.
Ellie dodged right.
BAAAM!
The axe smashed into the ground again, stone splintering beneath it.

Ellie lunged in for a counter—but Reginald was waiting.
He swung his left axe in a diagonal slash.
Ellie twisted aside, the blade grazing past her shoulder.

Snarling, Reginald unleashed a wild storm of attacks, both axes spinning and crashing like a whirlwind.
Ellie evaded each one with desperate precision, her spear darting just out of reach.

The air shook with every impact. Dust rose in thick waves. The roar of the crowd grew into thunder.

“Did you expect this, Your Honor?” Miki’s eyes were wide. “She’s… actually holding her ground.”

“No,” Ash said, voice even, eyes fixed on the fight.

“Then why let her accept the duel?” Miki pressed.

“She didn’t strike me as reckless,” Ash replied.

Miki frowned. “How could you know that?”

“From her actions yesterday — and our talk in the barn,” he said without looking away. “That was enough.”

“But still—”

“You don’t have to worry, Miss Matsuda,” Ash interrupted, calm but sharp. “If he crosses the line, Tyrone will stop him.”

PANG!
Another red flash flared from Reginald’s armor.

“Two!” Tyrone’s voice rang clear.

BAAAMMM!
Reginald slammed both axes into the ground in fury. He’d expected an easy victory—this was humiliation.

“AAARRRGH!!” he roared, raising both weapons again—

PANG!
“Three!”

The crowd exploded with cheers.
“She hit him again!”
“She’s winning!”
The once-fearful villagers now shouted Ellie’s name with every breath.

Reginald jumped back, trying to create distance. His breathing grew heavier. “Damn brat…” he growled.

“Two more,” Ellie whispered. “I can finish this.”
Her chest rose and fell quickly; fatigue tugged at her limbs.
She steadied her breath, adjusted her stance, and focused on Reginald’s movements. He was hesitating—his confidence slipping.

Now or never.

Ellie lunged forward, spear aimed for his chest.
Reginald swung in a wide horizontal arc. Ellie ducked under it—
BAAAM!

—but a powerful kick smashed into her ribs.
The blow sent her flying, tumbling across the arena like a doll. She hit the barrier with a sharp CRACK.

The crowd screamed.
“Ellie!” the village chief cried.
“Get up!” others shouted, fear rising once again.

Reginald threw one of his axes. It spun through the air like a blur.
Ellie barely rolled aside as it struck the ground beside her, kicking up a spray of dirt.

“Heh heh heh… How does it feel now?” Reginald jeered, swaggering toward her. “Not so confident anymore, are you?”

Ellie used her spear for balance, forcing herself up. The armor dulled the blow, but pain throbbed through her entire body. Still, she raised her weapon, steady and unflinching.

“You should’ve stayed down, woman!” Reginald bellowed, rushing forward.

BOOM! BANG! KRA-KOOV!
Each swing came faster, more vicious than before.

“WAA HA HA HA HA HA!” Reginald laughed like a mad beast, drunk on power—

PANG!
“Four!”

The crowd roared again.
“One more hit! Finish him!”

Reginald’s laughter twisted into rage.
“YOU LITTLE SHIT!” he howled, swinging upward.
His fist caught Ellie in the stomach, sending her flying skyward.
He followed with a savage kick to her ribs.

BOOM!
Dust exploded as Ellie crashed to the ground. Her spear flew from her hands and clattered away. Her body lay still.

“Duel over,” Tyrone declared firmly.

But Reginald ignored him. His fury consumed all reason.
He lifted his axe high, eyes burning.
“DIE, YOU FUCKING WHORE !”

TANG!

The impact never came.

A loud metallic clang rang through the arena. Reginald froze.
His weapon was caught.

Before him stood Tyrone — eyes glowing crimson, his claws gripping the blade of Reginald’s axe.

“Hey, you piece of shit,” Tyrone growled.
“I said the duel is over.”