Voices Chatter

The sun rose, and Tanuki woke rough. He showered, shook the sleep from his eyes, ate his ramen in silence. The thought of Celeste lingered, but he shoved it aside. Today wasn’t about her. Today was about the duel.

By the time Tanuki, Atlas, and NV reached the Citadel Theatre, the place was already overflowing. The Theatre wasn’t just an arena, it was a spectacle hub, a massive amphitheater carved into the eastern spire of Geminus. Its crystalline walls refracted the aurora‑lit sky, projecting duels onto shimmering panes of light so that even those in the farthest seats could see every strike.

The crowd was a storm of voices. Guild banners waved like battle standards, their emblems glowing in neon hues. Merchants had set up pop‑up stalls along the outer ring, selling everything from commemorative trinkets to overpriced potions branded with Tanuki’s name.

Atlas whistled low. “You’d think this was the finals of a world championship, not just a duel.”

NV’s eyes scanned the stands, sharp and calculating. “It’s not just a duel. It’s a story. People love stories. And right now, you’re the underdog protagonist.”

Tanuki swallowed hard. He could feel the weight of every gaze. Some were mocking, others curious, a few even supportive. But all of them were waiting to see if he would rise or fall.

Near the entrance, a cluster of players had set up a betting board. Holographic odds flickered above their heads:

[Arsenyx Victory (Round 1 sweep): 3 to 1

Tanuki Victory (upset): 50 to 1

Match goes to Round 3: 10 to 1]

Atlas scowled at the numbers. “Fifty to one? That’s insulting.” He slapped a handful of coins onto the table. “Put me down for Tanuki in three rounds.”

The bookie raised an eyebrow. “You sure? That’s a long shot.”

Atlas grinned. “That’s the point.”

NV, without a word, placed her own bet: Tanuki to win Round 2. The bookie smirked. “Smart money. He might steal one before Arsenyx crushes him.”

Tanuki tried not to listen, but the words dug in anyway.

As they moved deeper into the Theatre, Tanuki caught fragments of conversation.

“Is that him? The one with the Tarot?” “Yeah, but Arsenyx is gonna wipe the floor with him.” “Still… he made it this far. That’s something.” “Doesn’t matter. Fate’s already decided.”

The word fate echoed in his mind, a shadow of Arsenyx’s earlier taunt.

In the lobby, Arsenyx was waiting. He stood tall, his black‑and‑crimson armor gleaming under the crystalline lights, his glaive humming faintly as though eager for blood. He didn’t posture. He didn’t need to. His calm was more intimidating than any threat.

Celeste stood behind him, her expression unreadable.

The crowd hushed as Tanuki stepped forward.

Arsenyx’s voice carried easily. “All that time you invested into this game. Straight to the point: you wasted it. Do you believe in fate?”

Tanuki’s grip tightened on his daggers. He didn’t answer.

Arsenyx’s smile was thin. “Just as well. No point bloviating. But you should know, that the moment you shook my hand, that Tarot was mine.”

The words hit harder than any glaive. Tanuki’s Tarot deck flickered at his side, restless, as if it too felt the weight of the claim.

The duel was set: best of three. Arsenyx adjusted his level down to fifty, his stats re-calibrating. Still abnormally dangerous. Both boarded the express train, their avatars dissolving into particles.

The ride was silent. Tanuki stared out at the aurora‑lit void as the train carried them to the Lunar Coliseum. His reflection in the glass looked like a stranger, armored, armed, but uncertain.

Atlas broke the silence. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. But if you’re going to do this, then hit him harder than you’ve ever hit anything.”

NV’s tone was quieter, but sharper. “Don’t let him dictate the pace. Don’t get anxious. Don’t hesitate. And most importantly, don’t lose. I bet money on you.”

Tanuki rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Even now, they were with him.

The train dissolved into light, and they reformed on the crystalline floor of the Coliseum. Above them, the sky was painted with aurora, ribbons of green and violet dancing across the void. The arena stretched wide, its surface gleaming like glass, every step echoing.

The crowd’s roar from the Citadel Theatre carried into the space, a phantom chorus.

Arsenyx tilted his head, his voice calm, almost bored. “This is where your story ends.”

Tanuki drew his daggers, the blades gleaming with dawnlight and shadow. His Tarot deck pulsed at his side, restless, alive.

The Lunar Coliseum was alive with light. Its crystalline floor stretched wide beneath the aurora‑lit sky, every step echoing like a drumbeat. The aurora itself seemed to pulse in rhythm with the crowd’s anticipation, ribbons of green and violet dancing across the void. The arena was vast, yet intimate, every sound magnified, every movement reflected in the mirrored surface.

Tanuki stood at one end, daggers drawn, armor shimmering faintly with the glow of his recent forging. His Tarot deck pulsed at his side, restless, as though it too sensed the weight of what was about to unfold. He could feel the eyes of Geminus on him, not just the avatars in the Citadel Theatre but the countless streams broadcasting across servers. His name was no longer just a tag above his character. It was a headline, a wager, a story.

Across from him, Arsenyx was a statue of calm menace. His black‑and‑crimson armor gleamed under the aurora, his glaive humming faintly with restrained power. He didn’t posture, didn’t taunt. His stillness was more intimidating than any boast. He radiated the kind of confidence that came not from arrogance, but from certainty.

The crowd in the Citadel Theatre was deafening, though their voices reached the Coliseum only as a phantom chorus. Guild banners waved, betting pools updated in real time, and the chat feeds scrolled endlessly:

“Tanuki’s gonna get flattened.”
“Fifty to one odds? Easy money.”
“Wait, he forged legendary armor? This might be closer than we think.”

Tanuki’s grip tightened on his daggers. He could feel the weight of every gaze, every whisper, every expectation pressing down on him. He thought of Celeste, of her confession, of her betrayal. The words still echoed: “Yes, but please let me explain.” He shoved the memory aside. There was no room for it here.

The countdown began.

3… 2… 1…

The duel began.

Arsenyx moved first. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t test the waters. His glaive swept in a wide crimson arc, the blade leaving a trail of burning after‑images that seemed to sear the air itself. The sheer force of the swing sent a shockwave across the crystalline floor, shards of light scattering like sparks.

Tanuki crossed his daggers, catching the blow. The impact rang in his bones, his HP dipping immediately. He staggered back, boots skidding across the glassy surface.

Arsenyx pressed forward, relentless. His movements were precise, economical with no wasted motion. “You’ve sharpened your blades,” he said, voice calm even as his glaive whistled through the air, “but you’re still soft.”

Tanuki ducked under the next strike, rolling across the floor. His Tarot deck pulsed at his side, restless. He drew, mana draining as the card dissolved into light. His daggers elongated, spectral chains wrapping around them. He lunged, striking in a blur of after‑images.

The crowd gasped as three slashes rang out in quick succession. Arsenyx parried the first, blocked the second, but the third slipped past, carving a shallow line across his armor. His HP dipped, faint, but visible.

Arsenyx smiled. “Better. But not enough.”

He retaliated with a downward strike that cracked the arena floor, crystalline shards erupting upward. Tanuki dodged, but not cleanly. His HP dipped again, a red warning flashing at the edge of his vision.

Atlas’s voice carried faintly from the Citadel stands. “Stay on your feet, Tanuki! Don’t let him pin you down!”

NV’s sharper tone followed. “He’s baiting you. Make him overcommit.”

Tanuki steadied himself, daggers glowing with dawnlight and shadow. He drew another Tarot, mana draining further, and his body flickered with phantom doubles. Three Tanukis rushed Arsenyx at once.

The glaive spun, cutting through two illusions, but the real Tanuki slid low, daggers crossing in a scissor slash. Sparks exploded as the blades bit into Arsenyx’s side. His HP bar dropped further, the crowd erupting in disbelief.

Arsenyx staggered, then laughed. “So you do have teeth.” He slammed his glaive into the ground, releasing a crimson shockwave that blew Tanuki back again. Both fighters’ HP bars were in the yellow now, the duel balanced on a knife’s edge.

Tanuki’s breath came ragged, mana nearly drained. He had one more draw left before exhaustion set in. He pulled, the Tarot dissolving into a radiant burst, his daggers igniting with aurora‑light that mirrored the sky above.

He charged.

Arsenyx met him head‑on, glaive blazing crimson. The two collided mid‑arena, light and shadow exploding outward in a shockwave that rattled the Coliseum. For a moment, neither moved. Then Tanuki pressed forward, his daggers striking in a flurry, each blow ringing against Arsenyx’s glaive.

The crowd roared as sparks showered the arena. Tanuki’s daggers carved shallow cuts across Arsenyx’s armor, his HP dipping further. For the first time, Arsenyx’s calm expression faltered.

“Not bad,” Arsenyx admitted, his voice low. “But you’re burning yourself out.”

Tanuki ignored him, pressing harder, his daggers glowing brighter with each strike. His HP was low, his mana nearly gone, but he refused to stop.

The clash of aurora‑lit daggers and crimson glaive reverberated through the Coliseum like thunder. Sparks showered the crystalline floor, each strike ringing like a bell. For a fleeting moment, Tanuki felt the tide turning. His blades moved faster than thought, guided by instinct and the Tarot’s pulsing rhythm. Every cut left a shallow mark on Arsenyx’s armor, and the crowd’s disbelief grew louder with each strike.

I can do this, Tanuki thought, chest heaving. I can actually push him back.

Arsenyx’s expression shifted, the faintest crease forming at the corner of his mouth. Not anger. Not fear. Amusement. “Not bad,” he murmured, parrying another flurry. “But you’re burning yourself out.”

Tanuki ignored him, pressing harder. His daggers glowed brighter, the aurora‑light intensifying until it painted streaks across the arena. His HP was low, his mana nearly gone, but adrenaline drowned out the warnings flashing at the edge of his vision.

The crowd in the Citadel Theatre was on its feet.

“He’s actually pushing Arsenyx back!”
“No way… is this the upset?”
“Don’t get cocky, kid. He’s baiting you.”

Atlas was practically leaning over the railing, fists clenched. “That’s it, Tanuki! Keep pressing! Don’t give him room to breathe!”

NV, by contrast, was still. Her eyes narrowed, her voice low. “He’s overextending. Arsenyx is waiting for the opening.”

It happened in an instant.

Tanuki lunged, daggers crossing in a scissor slash aimed at Arsenyx’s chest. For a heartbeat, it looked like the strike would land. But Arsenyx shifted his stance, the glaive twisting with deceptive grace. The crimson blade hooked Tanuki’s daggers aside, the force of the parry jolting through his arms.

Before Tanuki could recover, the glaive’s haft slammed into his chest. The impact knocked the wind out of him, his HP dipping sharply. He staggered back, vision blurring.

Arsenyx didn’t press immediately. He stood tall, glaive resting lightly in his hands, eyes calm. “You fight like someone who doesn’t understand limits. That’s admirable… and foolish.”

Tanuki gritted his teeth, forcing his body upright. His daggers trembled in his grip, the aurora‑light flickering. His Tarot deck pulsed faintly, but he knew he had little left to draw on.

Arsenyx moved again, faster than before. His glaive swept in a wide arc, the crimson edge leaving trails of fire in the air. Tanuki barely managed to parry, the impact rattling his bones. Another strike followed, then another, each blow heavier than the last.

The arena floor cracked beneath the force of the glaive, crystalline shards erupting upward. Tanuki dodged, rolled, countered with desperate slashes, but Arsenyx was reading him now. Every move, every feint, every Tarot‑infused strike, Arsenyx had anticipated them, his glaive intercepting with surgical precision.

The crowd’s roar shifted, awe replacing disbelief.

“He’s toying with him now.”
“That’s the Arsenyx I know.”
“Tanuki’s done. He burned too much too fast.”

Atlas slammed his fist against the railing. “Come on, Tanuki! Don’t let him take control!”

NV’s voice was sharper. “He’s losing rhythm. He needs to reset, or it’s over.”

Tanuki’s HP dipped into the red. His mana bar was nearly empty, every Tarot draw now a gamble that could leave him drained and defenseless. His breath came ragged, sweat dripping down his brow.

I can’t stop now, he thought. If I stop, it’s over. If I stop, I lose everything.

He drew again. The Tarot dissolved into light, his daggers igniting with a desperate burst of power. He lunged, blades flashing in a final flurry.

Arsenyx met him head‑on. The glaive blazed crimson, each swing precise, controlled, devastating. The two collided mid‑arena, light and shadow exploding outward in a shockwave that rattled the Coliseum.

For a moment, neither moved. Then Arsenyx twisted, his glaive hooking Tanuki’s daggers aside. In the same motion, he drove the weapon’s haft into Tanuki’s chest again, harder this time. Tanuki staggered, his HP plunging.

Before he could recover, the glaive’s crimson edge slashed across his back. His HP bar shattered into zero.