CHAPTER 147: BLADES AGAINST THE INFERNO!

Jenner, though still blinking from the earlier flash of light, smirked faintly, his fingers flexing with crackles of magic still dancing between them.

Aside from a few scratches, he looked almost unharmed. Compared to their opponents, they stood tall, strong, and composed.

The difference in condition was clear.

The audience murmured among themselves, voices rising with excitement and disbelief.

Elysia and Edwin looked worn, battered, and on the edge of exhaustion. Martis and Jenner, by contrast, appeared nearly fresh, their advantage as glaring as the sunlight cutting through the fading smoke.

And everyone watching knew one thing,

The fight was far from over.

The tension in the arena was so heavy it seemed to press down on everyone’s chest.

Dust still floated in the air from earlier strikes, mixing with the faint scent of smoke and scorched stone.

The battlefield itself looked like a scarred wasteland—cracks split across the floor, patches of frost still shimmered faintly where ice spells had struck, and blackened scorch marks told of lightning and fire clashing moments before.

At the center of it all stood Elysia, sword in hand. Her blade caught the fractured sunlight above, shining as though it refused to dim even in the chaos.

Her body bore the marks of the fight—small cuts streaked across her arms, and the skin around her shoulders was reddened by burns.

Her breathing was heavy but steady, like someone who had trained their whole life for endurance.

Every inhale, every exhale, was deliberate.

Across from her, Jenner looked confident, though not untouched. Sweat slicked his forehead and temple, and his grip on the staff was tighter than before.

Yet his smirk remained, sharp and mocking, as if he were already picturing his victory.

"You’ve lasted longer than most," Jenner said, his voice echoing across the quieted arena. "But this ends now, swordswoman."

He raised his staff, and instantly the runes carved along its length flared to life. Each mark glowed red-hot, like molten metal.

Mana roared on him, thick and violent, pulling at the air.

The crowd gasped as they felt the change. The ground trembled underfoot, small pebbles lifting slightly as if gravity itself bent toward the storm of power Jenner was summoning.

Heat spread through the arena, rolling over the stands in waves.

Above Jenner, fire began to gather. First, it was a spark. Then, a swirling ember. Within moments, it had grown into a massive sphere of flame, the size of a carriage, hovering above him.

The sheer force of it made the air shimmer, distorting light as though the world itself were melting.

Some people in the audience flinched back, shielding their faces from the searing heat.

The announcer, who had been ready to call the match at any second, froze with wide eyes. If that spell landed, there would be no remains of Elysia left to save.

Elysia narrowed her eyes. He’s summoning something devastating... if that hits, I won’t even have ashes left.

She gripped her sword tighter. Her knuckles turned white from the pressure. Slowly, she sank lower into her stance, her knees bending, her weight balanced perfectly on the balls of her feet.

Her blade began to glow—not in a sudden burst, but like a star breathing back to life.

The faint light crawled along the steel, brighter with each heartbeat as she poured the last threads of mana she had into the weapon.

Sparks flickered from its edge, not chaotic, but sharp and precise, like the promise of a clean strike.

Her chest rose and fell, calm despite the raging inferno gathering before her. She looked almost serene, her eyes cold and unwavering.

"You talk too much," she said.

Jenner’s smirk widened, though it twitched slightly at the edges.

"And you underestimate the reach of a blade."

The moment hung suspended, the whole arena caught between fire and steel, between overwhelming destruction and a single, perfect strike.

The Flaming Clash

The blazing fireball fell from the sky like a miniature sun, its flames twisting and roaring with unbearable heat.

The entire arena glowed red, as though the world itself was burning. Jenner raised his staff high, his voice booming across the battlefield:

"Perish beneath the firestorm!"

The spectators gasped and shielded their faces from the scorching heat.

Elysia didn’t hesitate. She sprinted forward, her boots cracking against the fractured arena floor.

Each step glowed faintly as she poured mana into her legs, boosting her speed to the point where her figure blurred like a streak of silver light.

The fireball descended, rushing straight toward her.

At the last possible second, she bent her knees and leapt.

For an instant, her entire body disappeared into the inferno. The crowd screamed in terror, convinced she had been swallowed alive by the flames.

But then—

A brilliant silver flash tore through the fireball. Her sword, wrapped in pure condensed mana, carved a glowing line straight through the massive spell.

The fireball didn’t explode—it burst apart, scattering flames like sparks from a shattered lantern.

Burning embers rained harmlessly to the ground.

"Wha—?!" Jenner’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Impossible!"

From within the fading blaze, Elysia’s figure shot forward like lightning. Her sword was already raised, her expression sharp and merciless.

"Your fortress," she snarled, "has cracks."

Her blade came crashing down.

Jenner panicked and thrust his staff forward. A barrier instantly flared into existence, forming a dome of shimmering light around him.

The sword struck.

The impact echoed like a thunderclap, sparks flying in every direction. The barrier trembled under the force, and in the next heartbeat—thin cracks spiderwebbed across its surface.

Jenner’s face twisted with strain. He poured more mana into the shield, veins bulging at his temples. His arms shook violently as he tried to hold it together.

"You... can’t... break through!" he roared through gritted teeth.

Elysia’s eyes narrowed, her breathing steady and controlled.

"Watch me."

She shifted her stance, gripping her sword with both hands.

A blinding light erupted along its edge as she funneled every last drop of her energy into the blade.

The pressure rolling off her strike was so intense that even the audience felt their chests tighten, many of them holding their breath in awe and fear.

With a sharp, ringing cry, Elysia brought her sword down.

The barrier shattered like glass, exploding into fragments of light that scattered into the air.

Jenner’s eyes went wide in horror. He raised his staff too late—the blade sliced past, narrowly missing him, but slamming into the stone floor with devastating force.

BOOM!