The End of the Struggle.

Dark red consumed everything. The entire arena glowed as its barrier tried to prevent the spell from going out of control. It creaked and cracked under the strain, threatening to break at any point.

The shield that was meant to protect Ayumu collapsed in no time. Intense pain assaulted him, and his consciousness started fading.

Is... Is this how my life ends a second time...? Unlike the previous time, it's not silly and ridiculous... Despite being so short, the experience was so much more fulfilling... At the end... Maybe I could finally say that I lived up to my name...

But there is one last thing I regret...

As his thoughts swirled in his sluggish mind, Ayumu's consciousness rapidly faded.

But suddenly, a voice rang through the coliseum. It wasn't particularly loud, but it clearly reverberated throughout the entire arena.

"Fulmar, sest."

And then, with a popping sound, the dark red disappeared completely. As if someone squeaked it out of existence.

***

Dion Au Darius watched as a single mage fearlessly walked up to the edge of the spectator's balcony.

The dark red was rampaging furiously. It filled the entire coliseum, and the only thing that stood between the spell and the innocent spectators was the transparent magical barrier. That barrier was on the verge of breaking as the thunder furiously struck at it. But the man in front of Dion didn't show even a hint of fear.

Instead, he stood his ground and chanted. The spell he used was so short it was barely fitting to be called a spell. Mere two words. 

"Fulmar, sest."

It was an order. A royal command to the world. A short instruction that was spoken with simplicity. The voice was almost casual, yet still possessed an authority that made everyone who heard it feel compelled to obey.

And so the world obeyed. The lightning that rampaged just a second ago ceased its resistance. It stabilized, lost its red tint, and then disappeared into nothingness.

The one who spoke up was the strongest spellcaster in the kingdom, master of Spiritspeak and the most powerful individual in the meritocratic system of Audera. The man at the top of its social structure that sat at the throne with his overwhelming power. The King Mage himself.

Animon Rey Audera.

***

For a while after the lightning disappeared, the audience sat in silence, shocked beyond belief. A powerful spell went on a rampage, and just as the people started panicking, the lightning disappeared. After only two words, something that threatened to overwhelm the coliseum's barrier, was completely wiped out of existence.

The caster, remembering that he had a job to do, was the first one to break the silence.

"I-incredible spell by Viktor Au Darius! I-it was so powerful that it was on the verge of destroying the coliseum's barrier! B-but was that enough? W-what about the contestant Fabian?!"

He then looked carefully at the arena. He saw Ayumu lying on the ground, on the verge of losing his consciousness.

"I-it seems that Fabian's barrier is broken... As per the rules of the duel, I announce Viktor Au Darius as the win—"

"Wait."

A voice interrupted the commentator. Somehow, by the time he noticed, another person appeared in his booth. And that person was—

"C-count Darius?!"

—none other than the head of Dariuses himself.

"W-what are you doing here?" the caster asked, in panic, as he deactivated the magical implement that allowed his voice to be heard by the audience.

"Hmph, what is there to be surprised about. I'm here to announce that we're resigning from the competition," the count spoke as he reactivated the commentator's magical implement. He made sure that the public could clearly hear his announcement.

"My son has lost control of his powers and endangered everyone in the process. Regardless of the state of their barriers, he cannot be proclaimed as the victor. I will not allow it."

"B-but—"

"No buts. That's final."

But just as the count announced his verdict, another guest entered the booth.

"Don't be so rash, Dion."

The count went silent as he stared at the new intruder.

"Y-y-y-your Majesty!?!?!?"

The poor commentator was almost having a heart attack, but the two nobles didn't care and carried on with their conversation.

"It's fine that you're feeling responsible and all that," Animon started, "but it's not your prerogative to resign from the duel. You might be his father and the head of the household, but the right to withdraw lies with Viktor."

"So what?" Dion replied, "Your Majesty, are you implying I should accept this mess of an outcome. Not on my honor."

The King's words were met with resistance, but he continued his explanation.

"That's not what I meant. Technically, Viktor won, yes, but considering the intervention of Deos Heios, we cannot consider this result appropriate. Even if it's just a showcase match, accepting it would mean discrediting the good name of the royal family."

"...So what is your idea..."

In response, Animon smiled jovially.

"It's simple really..."

***

"The duel is declared to be undecided! For those who are unsatisfied, you can think of it as a tie. Not like that would change the reality of the situation."

The Monarch's voice rang over the coliseum. As always, he sounded much too jovial and casual considering what had just happened. As those words reached Ayumu's ears, he sighed.

So, at the end of the day, I couldn't win...

Ayumu felt slightly bitter. In the second half of the duel, he was confident that he had great chances to win. Then, he was forced into a corner by Viktor's fearless assault. Barely, he survived and was able to stabilize the situation. And just when he had it in the bag, he lost his concentration, resulting in his spell being unable to put Viktor down for good. Once he had lost that opportunity, Viktor received the Curse of the Red Moon and won.

It really was unfair. Was missing a single chance really bad enough to warrant such a turnaround? Did all of his efforts really go to waste over a single unfulfilled opportunity?

The answer was no. At the very least, Ayumu didn't feel that way.

Sure, he wasn't able to win, and he was bitter about that, but it was completely different from before. Previously, whenever he failed, he would only think about the result. He would lament his lack of talent, or misfortune, or both. But right now, his mind was completely occupied by the future. 

There were so many areas where he could do better, where he could improve his spellcasting and technique. And he will do better next time. This was only a single step on his long journey of dreams.

Before, whenever he looked back at his path, he could see nothing but wasted time and effort. But right now, every step of the way was clear—just how much progress he has made and how far he traveled. And that brought a smile to his face. He had a long way to go, but the road he walked was not just a long, fruitless struggle that led straight to another failure. Instead, it was an exciting journey that brought him satisfaction every step of the way.

While Ayumu was, quite frankly, deliberating life and waxing philosophical, a certain person walked up to him. That person waited for Ayumu to come back from the unreachable heavens of Deas. But Realizing that the boy wasn't going to leave the labyrinths of his mind any time soon, the person interrupted him.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?"

"...Nothing much. Just life things, you know? Not everything always goes your way... Sometimes, it's about—"

It was then that Ayumu realized who stood in front of him.

"Your Majesty!?"

In contrast to the surprised boy, the King was as breezy as always.

"Yep. That's me. Your one and only king. The guy at the top who just tries to pretend to look cool but doesn't actually do any administrative duties and just acts as some intimidating, threat-deterring magical weapon that protects the kingdom. That's definitely me."

I didn't say any of that... Ayumu thought but didn't reply. He definitely didn't want to risk saying something stupid in the presence of the monarch.

"You're not very talkative, are you? I swear I don't bite and I'm not scary..." Animon said with some exasperation in his voice, "Well, whatever. I just wanted to tell you that the results of your research will be accepted. I will make sure of that. You did well, and now—you can rest."

When Ayumu heard that words, a wave of relief washed over him. Suddenly, his entire body felt incredibly heavy.

"...I see. So it's finally over."

He wasn't sure if he won the battle, but he definitely won the war. At the very least, the outcome was a success for him.

You win some, you lose some, I guess...

And with that final thought, his consciousness faded.

***

It was the day after the match took place.

In a certain mansion in the noble district of the capital, a count sat by his lonesome. He was sipping on a glass of wine as he waited for his son to appear. He was staring through the window with his back facing the entrance of the room. While he savored the taste, his mind was occupied by the duel that took place the day before. 

Then, a knock on the door resounded. Finally, his son, Viktor Au Darius, had arrived.

"You may enter," Dion said as he continued sipping on the fine drink.

Viktor entered the room silently and sat on one knee.

"...May... May I hope for the mercy of Dea Coria?" Viktor said weakly, asking for Dion's forgiveness.

Dion thought in silence for a few seconds. Then, he slowly replied.

"...No. You shouldn't ask for that."

Viktor's shoulders trembled in response.

"So... what should I ask for instead...? For... for a chance of redemption...? For an opportunity to take my own life to offset the dishonor I brought into our family...?"

"You fool. Don't say those words ever again. There's nothing more dishonorable than giving up after a failure. That's just escaping from responsibility."

Viktor's weak voice was met with a firm denial. Belatedly, Dion realized how harsh his words were, and he stopped himself. He sighed, and his voice became softer.

"...Listen, Viktor. What have you learnt from this duel—no, what have you learned from Fabian Aes Berion? Why do you think you've lost?"

"I... I don't know... Is it because of my arrogance?" Viktor spoke. Unlike before, he looked not like a fearsome warrior, but like a lost child.

"But I... I abandoned my arrogance at the end," Viktor continued, "I wanted to maintain the honor of our family by proving our superiority in areas where he was meant to excel, but I realized that the truly dishonorable thing was to not go all out against him.... And yet it was not enough."

Viktor lifted his face and looked straight into his father's eyes.

"Why is it that I lost? Is it simply the lack of talent? Am I just unable to match his genius...? I just wanted to prove that I was no worse than him... That all of those years of hard work were worth something..."

From early childhood, Viktor was taught that he had to be at the forefront of his generation—the strongest warrior among his peers. And to deserve that title, Viktor had worked hard his entire life. But then Fabian seemingly came out of nowhere. He had no background, no backing from an influential family, nothing that Viktor had. And yet he still excelled.

At first, Viktor could find it in himself to simply ignore the boy. He hated how fake his humbleness was, but he didn't feel threatened by him. But everything changed when the rumors spread; people witnessed that Fabian possessed roaring flash—something that Viktor had spent his entire life to learn. Moreover, the boy's mastery over it was already not too far behind.

"What were all of my efforts worth, if I can't even defeat someone who has just learned roaring flash? Am I truly so incapable? Is life really so unfair that he can instantly master what I worked hard for my entire life and then have all of his genius on top of that? If... if that's the case... then what worth is there in my existence?"

Viktor's voice was shaking. Emotion overwhelmed him, and he could not hold himself back. Even he was surprised at how open he was being in front of his father.

"...I just wanted to be someone like him... Someone who would garner everyone's respect—your respect."

Faced with the constant warnings from his father, Viktor could see just how dangerous Dion thought Fabian to be. But within all of the wariness and negative emotions that the count felt towards Fabian, the boy had something that Viktor always wanted—Dion's respect.

The count's eyes widened in shock.

"Viktor..." he muttered.

Back during the Red Moon's Curse he realized just how much he underestimated and misunderstood his son's troubles. But it was only now that he understood where exactly his fault lay.

Dion wanted to raise Viktor as a fitting heir for the Darius household. He believed that his son had the potential to be one of the worthiest leaders in the family's history. And so, he trained and treated him accordingly. To be stronger than anyone, to not show weakness, to be someone who would never fail to live up to others' expectations.

He treated him as an equal. As a warrior. But he failed to treat him as his son.

Having high expectations of him and not allowing leeway was his way of showing respect at Viktor's resolution. He was not a child, but a warrior. Viktor, however, didn't see it that way. He thought that he was judged harshly because his father believed he wasn't good enough. And now, Dion could finally see that.

The father finally turned to look at his son. Dion stood up from his seat and started walking towards Viktor.

"Viktor, I always respected you... If I didn't, then I would never ever put all of those expectations on you..."

When he heard his father's words, Viktor's eyes widened in shock. He couldn't find the right words to say, so the boy remained silent.

"It seems that both of us were quite foolish..." Dion said as he pulled Viktor to his feet.

Father then hugged his son tightly.

"...You don't need to ask for my forgiveness. You're more than worthy to be the heir of Dariuses as you are. I'm the one who's at fault. I'm sorry, Viktor."

"...I-I..." Viktor tried to squeeze something out, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He just stayed silent in his father's embrace.

Currently, father and son couldn't see each other. He thought that was somewhat fortunate. On his face, was something that a proud member of Dariuses could not show to others. Moreover, it was something that they were never supposed to have. But as long as they couldn't be seen, maybe it was fine. Maybe, they would make them stronger.

Droplets of water fell on the floor. No one knew where they came from, and no one would ever tell of their existence.

But from now on, they would always live in their hearts.