The Ironwill Knight’s hand flashed. Rather than watching the blade, she kept her focus on Renan’s spine. Her parry was an economy of motion: an angled cross that took his undercut’s force and translated it into a pivot, using his own spin to unbalance him.

Instead of meeting blade with blade in a war of sparks, she placed a palm on his chest—barely there—and let the momentum carry him forward into empty air.

The world told the truth in sounds: Renan’s boots scraped stone, the wind shifted, a loose plank skittered away. He recovered mid-lunge, rolling like a tide that knew how to find the shore.

He knelt, blade bristling. "I’ve never fought someone so powerful!" He stretched his shoulders and roared. "I’m going all out!"

Renan sucked in all the Grace within him, and there was a lot. He summoned a halo of light that spun along his sword, a circling brass of radiance that hummed with promises of cataclysm.

"Celestial Maelstrom!"

It radiated outward in pulses, tearing at the air like a cyclone trimmed in steel.

Astensia’s brows raised. "Impressive."

She simply swung her blade down, then swung it to the side, creating a giant golden cross. When Renan’s maelstrom struck the cross, the entire silver halo vanished into silver smoke.

Astensia smirked a little. "But not a match for the Crucifix Shield."

"Unbelievable!" the announcer exclaimed. "Are we all witnessing this battle? This is just unbelievable! A legend of the past battling a legend of the future! This is history we are witnessing here, people!"

Renan stood still for a moment, staring. It was at this moment he should have given up, but the Heavenly Knight still had more to give.

He didn’t raise his sword this time, but rather his free hand. Renan pushed his Grace again, completely driven by a protagonist’s instinct to defeat any foe standing before him. Even if it was the legendary Ironwill Knight.

Renan was used to this. As the MC, every battle ensured victory. Everyone! He’d never lost a match. It was like the world ensured that it never happened, and that wasn’t going to change today.

"Army of One!" Renan yelled.

In a flash of blinding light, five identical, high-fidelity clones of Renan materialized behind him, all four of them rushed towards Astensia, using different angles to attack with their spectral clones of the Black Gale.

Astensia didn’t even blink beneath her glistening winged helm. "A simple trick of the light," she remarked calmly. "One that I have as well."

She extended her own hand. "Army of One."

Three radiant, golden copies of the legendary knight appeared beside her, then rushed forward to meet Renan’s clones head-on.

The forest filled with the sound of clashing steel as her projections parried, countered, and dismantled his copies within seconds.

Before Renan could even register the loss of his clones, the true Astensia slipped entirely past his guard, her golden greatsword flashing in a clean, elegant strike that shattered his defenses and sent him straight to the spectator stands in a beam of light.

"RENAN FALCONHART IS OUT!" the announcer declared with shock and excitement. "He’s lost to Astensia Valengard! Which means he lost to Lancet Leogardt!"

The crowd were on their feet, some cheering, some flabbergasted. Danistasia watched silently. Ordenance narrowed his brows a little.

Back in the field, Lacet was left with the final opponent. Logan the Dragoon thrusted his rune-carved spear forward, the draconic markings glowing red as he aimed for Lancet’s chest.

Lancet spun, parrying the strike with the flat of his blade, the golden magic grinding loudly against the runes.

Logan leaped high into the air, attempting a high-altitude diving pierce, but Lancet completely read the trajectory.

Using Flash Feet to burst forward, Lancet slid directly underneath the falling Dragoon, swinging the Guillotine upward in a sweeping crescent arc that almost sliced Logan’s head completely off his shoulders.

The safety matrix flashed violently, snatching Logan out of the air just a millimeter before the edge could bite into his throat.

Cheers rang through the entire valley of students watching. That had been an awesome battle!

The announcer practically screamed into his microphone, his voice entirely hoarse from shouting. "HOLY SMOKES! IT’S A COMPLETE CLEAN SWEEP! EVERY SINGLE COMPETITOR FROM THE OTHER THREE TEAMS HAS BEEN COMPLETELY WIPED OFF THE FIELD!"

The screen tracking the timer flickered brightly. "There are exactly three minutes left on the clock! And Summoner-D it seems are going to wait out the remaining minutes to gain all the Tributes."

With no opponents left to contest the boundaries, all four territories were completely wide open. Lancet exhaled a long, heavy breath, lowering his weapon as the adrenaline began to fade. He walked over to the center of the grove and casually sat down right on the dirt floor, leaning against a tree root to catch his breath. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Astensia walked over, planting her massive golden greatsword firmly into the earth right beside him, before gracefully lowering herself to sit by his side.

Across the valley, Kasto was running like an absolute madman over to the Specialist-D territory that Thor had cleared.

Because she was a Summon, her physical presence didn’t officially register the territorial capture points for the team scoreboard. The moment Kasto’s boots crossed the threshold to officially lock in the claim, Thor disappeared into lightning.

She reappeared directly in front of Lancet, her heavy armor clanking softly as she sat down on the dirt right across from him.

None of them said a single word. The silence hanging between Lancet, Astensia, and Thor was incredibly thick, heavy, and loaded with a mutual understanding that a very long, very grueling conversation was waiting for them once all of this was over.

Without speaking, they raised their gazes to the swirling camera drones, and the screens of the crowds displayed above and around them.

When the clock hit the final ten seconds, the entire stadium audience rose to their feet, their voices uniting for the countdown.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

Lancet looked at one of the screens which displayed Headmistress Danistasia on the golden table. She was watching him silently. Her beautiful face was completely cold, unreadable, and intensely fixed entirely on him.

Like always.

"Three! Two! One! ZERO!"

"THAT IS IT! THE MATCH IS OFFICIALLY OVER!" the announcer bellowed over the deafening roars of the crowd.

The massive holographic scoreboards flashed the final, definitive tallies for Challenge Three:

[ Summoner-D : 4700 ]

[ Specialist-D : 850 ]

[ Enchanter-D : 310 ]

[ Elementalist-D: 120 ]

"What an unbelievable gap by Summoner-D," the announcer went completely wild, gesturing frantically toward the numbers. "One of the biggest in this competition’s history. All because of Lancet Leogardt and his legendary Summons. Is that blonde-haired boy a walking cheat code or what?"

—---—

A/N: Don’t forget to check out Legendary Weapon Summoner, inspired by Luke’s power and his character in a more fleshed out story that can’t be explored here!