Chapter 32 — Rogan vs Kaelen: Spear vs Copy

The arena trembled with anticipation. Every spectator, knight, and noble held their breath. The moment had arrived—the legendary Mirrorblade, Kaelen Drayce, was about to face Rogan Thorne, the Rank 4 Colosseum Champion.

Rogan gripped his massive spear, muscles taut and eyes burning with determination. “I’ve waited for this moment,” he growled. “To face the man whose skill I’ve chased for years!”

Kaelen shifted his Morphblade, transforming it seamlessly into a long spear, matching Rogan’s weapon. The crowd murmured, recognizing the rare moment—the master was mirroring his opponent before the duel even began.

“Let’s see how far you’ve come, Rogan,” Kaelen said calmly, his golden eyes unwavering.

Rogan charged with brutal force, a flurry of spear strikes designed to overwhelm. Kaelen met every attack with perfect counters, adapting instantaneously, copying Rogan’s own style and enhancing it with fluid precision. Each movement flowed into the next, a seamless dance of anticipation and reaction.

The arena erupted in gasps and whispers. He’s copying him… but he’s perfecting it…!

“You… how…?!” Rogan shouted mid-battle, sweat glistening on his brow. “You don’t just copy… you improve it!”

Kaelen’s golden eyes narrowed slightly. “Observation is more than mimicry. Understanding, adapting, and perfecting—this is the way to surpass one’s limits.”

Rogan, pushed to the edge, attempted a sweeping strike—a technique he had perfected over years. Kaelen countered effortlessly, flowing into a mirrored form of the technique but executed with unparalleled precision. The strike forced Rogan backward, unbalancing him, and the crowd erupted into cheers and astonishment.

“You… you’re impossible!” Rogan gasped, gripping his spear tighter, determination blazing in his eyes. “But I will not lose!”

Kaelen’s expression remained calm. With a swift pivot, he shifted his spear into a short blade, delivering a series of precise strikes that mirrored Rogan’s earlier attacks but with superior timing and control. Rogan staggered, realizing the truth—he was facing a master who could learn and perfect anything in an instant.

Finally, Kaelen disarmed Rogan, the massive spear clattering across the arena floor. He pointed the Morphblade at Rogan’s chest, golden eyes unwavering. “It ends here,” he said softly.

Rogan dropped to one knee, chest heaving, eyes blazing with frustration and admiration. “I… I’ve never faced anyone like you… not even in the colosseum. You’re… the Mirrorblade… alive… and perfect.”

Kaelen retracted his weapon, morphing it back into its hidden form. “Your strength is genuine, Rogan. You’ve grown far beyond what I expected. Continue to train, and one day, you may surpass even me.”

The crowd erupted, some cheering, others in shock, but all aware they had witnessed a duel for the ages. The Mirrorblade had returned—not just as a legend, but as a living force, shaping the future of every warrior who dared to step onto the field.

Prince Aric watched from the sidelines, fists clenched, inspiration burning within him. Princess Lysandra’s eyes glimmered with awe and admiration. And Kaelen, calm and composed, vanished into the shadows, leaving a trail of respect, fear, and legend behind him.