Closure

The crystalline floor of the Lunar Coliseum shimmered as the system reset. HP bars refilled, mana surged back to full, armor restored. The battlefield was clean again, but the fighters were not.

Tanuki stood with daggers in hand, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. The Deck of Echoes pulsed faintly at his side, quiet now, as if sated from the chaos of Round Two. His body was whole, but the memory of the Veil’s drain lingered in his bones.

Across from him, Arsenyx rolled his shoulders, glaive resting lightly in his hands. His armor gleamed as if untouched, but the faintest scars remained, not on the metal, but in the way he regarded Tanuki. No longer with casual dismissal. Now with recognition.

The aurora above shifted, cooler and sharper, casting the arena in hues of blue and violet. The crowd in the Citadel Theatre was electric, their voices a storm.

“He actually took a round off Arsenyx!”
“This is it, the decider!”
“Fifty to one odds and he’s still standing. Unreal.”

Atlas leaned so far over the railing he nearly toppled. “You’ve got this, Tanuki! Just one more!”

NV’s voice was quieter, but sharper. “Don’t get reckless. He’s going to come at you harder than ever. Expect him to adapt.”

Tanuki nodded once. I know. He won’t underestimate me again.

The countdown began.

3… 2… 1…

Round Three began.

Arsenyx moved first.

The glaive swept in a crimson arc, faster than anything Tanuki had seen in the previous rounds. The sheer force of the swing cracked the crystalline floor, shards scattering like sparks. Tanuki crossed his daggers, catching the blow, but the impact rattled his arms to the bone. His HP dipped immediately.

Arsenyx pressed forward, relentless. His movements were sharper, heavier, more precise. This wasn’t the calm predator of Round One or the amused hunter of Round Two. This was Arsenyx unleashed.

“You’ve proven yourself,” he said, voice calm even as his glaive whistled through the air. “Now I’ll show you the difference between growth and mastery.”

Tanuki ducked under the next strike, rolling across the floor. He drew immediately. The card dissolved into light: The Arcanist’s Spark.

His daggers ignited with elemental fury, fire licking one blade, lightning crackling across the other. He slashed, arcs of flame and thunder following.

Arsenyx parried, deflected, countered. Sparks and embers showered the arena, but his HP barely dipped. He was reading Tanuki’s rhythm, adapting faster than before.

Tanuki drew again. The card dissolved: The Shackled Star.

Chains of starlight erupted from the ground, wrapping around Arsenyx’s legs and arms. For a heartbeat, the glaive wielder slowed. Tanuki lunged, daggers flashing, carving shallow cuts across his armor.

But Arsenyx didn’t waste time breaking the chains. He pivoted, using the resistance to torque his glaive into a brutal upward swing. The blade caught Tanuki’s shoulder, sending him skidding back. His HP dipped sharply, a red warning flashing.

The crowd gasped.

“He’s faster this round!”
“Tanuki can’t keep up!”
“Arsenyx is done playing.”

Atlas shouted, voice raw. “Get up! Don’t let him take control!”

NV’s tone was colder. “He’s testing you. Don’t give him the rhythm he wants.”

Tanuki forced himself upright, daggers trembling in his grip. He drew again. The card dissolved: The Turning Spire.

The crystalline floor shifted, tilting by degrees. Arsenyx adjusted instantly, his stance widening, his balance perfect. But Tanuki used the tilt to accelerate, lunging forward, daggers flashing.

He struck at Arsenyx’s chest, but the glaive intercepted, sending sparks flying. Arsenyx countered with a downward strike that cracked the floor, sending Tanuki sprawling. His HP dipped again, dangerously low.

Arsenyx’s voice carried, calm but edged. “You’ve grown. But growth has limits.”

"What are all of these cheesy villain lines?" Tanuki said as he staggered to his feet, chest heaving. His HP hovered in the red, his mana draining with each draw. He had already used more cards in the opening minutes of this round than he had in the entire first duel.

Arsenyx pressed forward, glaive spinning in a deadly dance. Each strike was heavier, sharper, more precise. Tanuki parried, dodged, countered, but each exchange cost him.

The predator had found his rhythm.

The crowd roared, the Citadel Theatre shaking.

“Tanuki’s in trouble!”
“Arsenyx is too strong this round!”
“He can’t keep this up!”

Atlas shouted, desperate. “Don’t give up! You’ve come too far!”

NV’s voice was quieter, but sharper. “He’s forcing you into his rhythm. Break it. Or you’re finished.”

Tanuki’s grip tightened on his daggers. His HP was low, his mana draining, but he refused to fall.

I’ve come to far to lose now.

The Deck of Echoes pulsed at his side, restless, alive.

The aurora above the Coliseum rippled like a living thing, its colors deepening into indigo and violet. The crowd’s roar was constant now, a storm that never ebbed. Every strike, every dodge, every flicker of light from the Deck of Echoes was met with gasps and shouts.

Tanuki’s daggers trembled in his hands, not from fear but from the sheer strain of keeping pace. Arsenyx’s glaive moved like a storm given form, wide arcs, sudden thrusts, brutal sweeps that cracked the crystalline floor. Each impact sent shockwaves through Tanuki’s arms, his HP bar dipping in steady increments.

He’s faster. Stronger. He’s reading me again.

He drew. The card dissolved into light: The Arcanist’s Spark.

His daggers flared with frost this time, the blades trailing icy mist. He slashed, leaving freezing streaks across the arena floor. Arsenyx’s boots skidded for a heartbeat, his stance faltering. Tanuki lunged, carving across his side. Sparks flew, HP dipped.

The crowd roared.

But Arsenyx recovered instantly. He pivoted, glaive spinning, and slammed the haft into Tanuki’s ribs. Pain flared, his HP bar plunging into the yellow.

“You’ve grown,” Arsenyx said, voice calm even as his weapon blurred. “But you’re still chasing. You don’t dictate. You react.”

Tanuki staggered, breath ragged. He drew again. The card dissolved: The Shackled Star.

Chains of starlight erupted, wrapping around Arsenyx’s arms and legs. For a heartbeat, the predator slowed. Tanuki lunged, daggers flashing, carving shallow cuts across his armor.

But Arsenyx didn’t fight the chains. He used them. He twisted, letting the resistance torque his glaive into a brutal upward swing. The blade caught Tanuki’s shoulder, sending him sprawling. His HP dipped sharply, a red warning flashing.

The crowd gasped.

“He’s in trouble!”
“Arsenyx is too strong this round!”
“Tanuki can’t keep up!”

Atlas’s voice cracked through the party channel. “Get up! Don’t let him take control!”

NV’s tone was sharper, colder. “He’s forcing you into his rhythm. Break it. Or you’re finished.”