Chapter 45 — Vorath’s True Power

The arena trembled with anticipation. Aric had held his ground against Vorath, the Berserker Knight, but the massive fighter’s grin hinted at the storm yet to come. Every eye in the crowd was fixed on the unfolding battle, sensing the coming escalation.

Vorath slammed his greatsword into the ground with a deafening roar. Dust and debris scattered across the arena floor as his muscles tensed, aura blazing with raw power. “You’ve survived this long, prince,” he growled, “but now you will see my true strength!”

Kaelen, standing silently at the sidelines, narrowed his golden eyes. This is the moment. Vorath’s full power will push him to the edge. Aric must rely on rhythm, anticipation, and adaptation, or he will be crushed.

Aric tightened his grip on his sword, muscles coiling with determination. His breaths were controlled, heart steady, mind sharp. I have trained under Master Kaelen. I’ve learned to predict, to adapt, to flow with every strike. I can do this.

Vorath lunged, swinging his massive blade in a furious arc, faster than before. The shockwave from the strike blasted against the arena walls, forcing spectators to stumble back. Aric barely blocked in time, sparks flying, his legs trembling from the force.

“Again!” Vorath roared, unleashing a relentless series of swings—each heavier, each faster, each designed to overwhelm. His power was nearly unstoppable, the sheer force of his attacks enough to crush any ordinary opponent.

Aric remembered Kaelen’s lessons. Observe the rhythm… predict the overextensions… exploit openings… He let Vorath’s pattern dictate the flow, dodging and deflecting with calculated precision. Every parry, every movement was a reflection of countless lessons learned, the rhythm of the battle guiding him.

Sparks flew as steel clashed, the deafening sound echoing across the arena. Vorath’s attacks grew wilder, his strength threatening to break Aric’s defenses. But the prince remained calm, reading the slight shifts in weight, the micro-pauses before each swing, the subtle tells that revealed Vorath’s intentions.

With a sudden shift, Aric feinted a strike to Vorath’s left, baiting the overextension he had predicted. Vorath took the bait, swinging with full force—only for Aric to slip under and deliver a precise counterstrike to a weak point in his armor. The massive blade skidded aside, sparks flying, and Vorath stumbled slightly.

The crowd gasped in astonishment. He’s holding his own… against Vorath’s full strength!

Vorath’s eyes narrowed, surprise flashing across his fierce expression. “Impressive… you’ve grown. I did not expect this.” He roared again, unleashing a spinning, multi-angle attack designed to break any rhythm.

Aric’s body moved instinctively, flowing with the attack rather than against it. He adapted, predicting each strike, countering where necessary, and maintaining his composure despite the overwhelming power. He was no longer merely reacting—he was dictating the rhythm of the duel.

Kaelen’s golden eyes glimmered with pride. This is it. The culmination of training, adaptation, and anticipation. He is beginning to understand true combat.

As Vorath paused, breathing heavily, Aric held his stance, eyes focused and unwavering. The duel was far from over, but Aric had survived Vorath’s full power, demonstrating mastery over rhythm, prediction, and adaptation.

The arena erupted in cheers, witnessing the young prince stand against a living legend’s might. Kaelen remained silent, knowing that this was only the beginning. Every lesson, every strike, had prepared Aric for this moment—and the challenges ahead would demand even more.