Thor and Claude regrouped near the edge of the arena, both breathing hard.

“Hold them off for a few seconds,” Thor said sharply. “Don’t let them get close.”

Claude wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. “I can hold them off for a few seconds,” he said flatly. “But tell me—what are you planning?”

Thor’s eyes hardened.
“I’m using my trump card.”

Before Claude could respond, Bjorn lunged in.

The two barely managed to evade the sudden assault. Claude countered immediately, steel crashing against steel, while Thor fired a lightning spell toward Bjorn—but it vanished midair, swallowed whole.

Arthur had nullified it.

Claude gritted his teeth. Arthur wasn’t even attacking—just evading, slipping through space as if the battlefield itself bent around him.

While Arthur and Bjorn kept Claude occupied, Thor stepped back. Mana surged violently around him as he began gathering power—far more than before. The air crackled, sparks crawling across the stone beneath his feet.

“This better be worth it,” Claude muttered, slashing forward.

Seconds passed. The pressure grew heavier.

Finally, Thor spoke, his voice low and strained.
“Claude—fall back. Stay clear. I haven’t perfected this yet.”

Claude didn’t argue. He retreated instantly.

Thor raised his head.

Lightning Magic: Thunder God Descent.

The arena froze.

Lightning exploded outward, engulfing Thor’s body. His form blurred, wrapped in blinding arcs of electricity, his presence transforming into something sharp—lethal—inhuman.

Mana pressure flooded the coliseum.

The crowd fell silent before erupting into chaos.

Even Prince Rudolf straightened in his seat. Reinhard’s gaze sharpened. Lancelot’s hand tightened at his side.

Mana pressure like this was unmistakable—only monsters produced it.

Thor vanished.

In the next instant, Bjorn was sent flying across the arena, his body slamming into the stone wall with a thunderous crash.

Arthur’s eyes widened—he hadn’t even seen the strike.

The crowd roared.

Thor hovered lightly above the ground, lightning dancing across his skin. He moved like a flash across the sky, his very body resembling a sharpened blade.

He pointed at Arthur.

“Nullify this,” Thor challenged. “I’m not firing lightning anymore.”

He grinned.
“I am lightning.”

“Claude,” Thor said without looking back. “Finish him. Arthur’s mine.”

Claude obeyed.

Arthur exhaled slowly. He knew the truth—his reaction speed wasn’t enough to counter this head-on.

Then—

He laughed.

Not nervously.
Not uncertainly.

A mad, echoing laugh that sent chills through the arena.

Thor frowned. “You’ve finally lost it?”

“Despair?” Arthur repeated, still laughing. “Is that what you think this is?”

He raised his hand slightly.
“Come at me. With everything you’ve got.”

Thor didn’t hesitate.

He launched forward, lightning screaming as he drove his fist straight toward Arthur—

And passed through him.

Gasps rippled through the arena.

Spatial Magic: Hollow Existence.

Arthur’s body shimmered, partially displaced from reality itself. Thor stumbled past him, eyes wide.

Arthur waved his hand.

Spatial Magic: Spatial Severance.

Space split.

Thor barely twisted away—but the invisible edge tore through his lightning armor, carving across his face. Blood followed, sizzling as it hit the ground.

Arthur didn’t touch him.

He simply waved.

More slashes followed. Thor dodged desperately, but his movements slowed. His mana reserves were collapsing.

Arthur wasn’t much better—his breathing had grown uneven.

Claude stood frozen nearby, Bjorn already down.

Thor charged again, firing a lightning bolt mid-motion. It phased harmlessly through Arthur—

Then Thor appeared behind him and struck, sending Arthur flying.

Thor laughed hoarsely.
“I was testing something. There’s a delay… right after you phase.”

Arthur rolled, then stood again. The crowd erupted.

Thor dropped to one knee. His lightning flickered, unstable.

Arthur raised his hand—but before the spell could land, Claude stepped in, cutting through the magic itself and dragging Thor back.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed.

He knew—this had to end now.

Mana surged violently around Arthur and then.

“Mana Field—”

Light flooded the arena.

Mana Field: Execution Zone.

The world warped.

The ground hummed. The air bent.

Only a few understood what they were witnessing. The prince leaned forward. Reinhard smiled faintly. Lancelot’s eyes gleamed.

Arthur vanished.

No portal.
No distortion.

He appeared behind Claude.

A single spatial strike carved through Claude’s back—but Arthur stopped it short, pulling the blade of space away.

Claude collapsed instantly.

The field faded.

Silence.

Then the arena exploded into cheers.

Arthur stood, breathing hard. Bjorn struggled to his feet beside him.

The victor was clear.

Arthur and Bjorn had won the match.