Colosseum Finals: Zien vs. Lucia
The arena buzzed with feverish excitement.
Word of the Battle Survival finals had driven viewership ratings through the roof. The event was nearing its climax. Spotlights swept across the announcer's booth, and Vernon seized the moment with a voice even deeper than usual.
"Representatives from 33 academies—over a hundred Number Ones—gathered here."
Bluma flashed her signature cool smile.
"And now, only two remain."
"Arcana's Sword God, Zien Russell, and Celia Academy's genius, Lucia Elquenes! The map for their showdown has been decided!"
🗺 MAP: CIRCULAR COLOSSEUM 🗺
The map was revealed at Vernon's cue.
But that wasn't the point.
G Channel still had one trick up their sleeve: the dome's ceiling, now sealed shut.
Flicker!
The holographic projector, prepared for the finals, burst into light.
Whirr.
A pinnacle of Zone 1 technology, unearthed from the depths.
As the hologram activated, gasps erupted from the crowd. Screens were obsolete now.
The arena transformed into a gladiator's colosseum, the floor turning to packed earth.
And at the center, Zien and Lucia faced each other.
Of course, for all its realism, it was just a hologram.
But the crowd roared anyway, thrilled at the chance to witness the finals as if they were real.
The tournament had far exceeded expectations. Metis watched the scene with a satisfied smile.
"The impact these students have brought is astonishing, isn't it? What do you think?"
His secretary adjusted her glasses at Metis's question.
"As you say, Minister, students from certain academies match active-duty saviors in skill. They could deploy tomorrow without issue. Their star power goes beyond that."
"Star-level students making an appearance. Perfect example for this campaign promise."
"Then... we'll allocate the pre-prepared 4th-rank gate to the winning academy."
Metis shook his head at her words. His sharp eyes scanned Zien and Lucia.
"No, I've changed my mind. Throw both Celia and Arcana into the same gate."
"Both academies in one gate..."
The secretary paused in admiration, then composed herself.
"Understood. Gate difficulty at 4th-rank, then..."
"No."
Metis cut her off.
To justify this policy and boost support, 4th-rank wasn't enough. It was time to gamble for bigger gains.
"5th-rank. Make it 5th-rank."
"M-Minister, a 5th-rank gate... If the party fails to clear it!"
It could lead to policy cancellation. Plus, 5th-rank gates terrified even veterans. But Metis was resolute.
"It's a virtual gate anyway. They won't die—what's there to fear?"
Unlike his flustered secretary, Metis continued calmly.
"And... I've got a feeling. Arcana's got more than just raw strength. There's something there."
Back in his active days, Metis had brushed 6th-rank Saber level—a gate management master. His instincts never failed. The secretary yielded to his firm decision.
"Understood. We'll proceed as planned. When should we announce the results?"
"I've given the students a heads-up. Announce it after the tournament hype peaks."
Metis turned back to the arena. At the heart of the colosseum, Zien and Lucia had blades leveled at each other.
Zien glanced at the countdown ticking down overhead.
[30]
[29]
[...]
...A colosseum, huh.
The colosseum where Zone 1 swordsmen staked their lives. No escape, no terrain to exploit—just flat earth and dust. That's why Zien liked it.
A place to prove yourself purely through skill.
Perfect to cap the event.
Shing.
Lucia drew her sword from her uniform's belt. Her blade, Diana, gleamed softly in the sunlight.
Like a knight before a duel, she leveled it gracefully and spoke.
"Crown."
Declaring her Stigma's name.
The highest respect a Saber could show an opponent.
"Black Fragrance."
Zien smiled back at the courtesy.
Staring her down like this, though, left him with a strange feeling.
...Huh.
Her sapphire-embedded eyes—cool yet clear—recalled Peil. Her obsidian-thread hair fluttering like Sina's.
She's an Elquenes, alright.
Lucia was their distant descendant.
Of course she resembled them. His comrades were gone, but as Peil wished in that cave, the Saber spirit lived on through generations.
The foundation preserving this peace was one thing.
Strength.
Whoosh.
His Stigma glowed as Black Fragrance materialized.
Zien raised his sword wordlessly.
In this empty colosseum with just the two of them, the sword was a swordsman's all. But this wasn't a fair fight.
Before the match even started.
Lucia had seen Zien's exam footage. That beautiful sword path, almost artistic. As a sword user herself, she knew instantly.
He's strong.
That first impression made him her rival—and now they met at the finals. Her eyes didn't lie.
At first, she just wanted a pure clash.
A sentiment any Saber cherished.
But.
Cast aside arrogance.
Lucia reminded herself.
She craved victory. As much as Zien—no, more than anyone. She wanted to prove to the family head watching that he was wrong, that she was the solar talent.
That was her new drive, unmoored from old goals.
She wasn't a saint.
Still just a student, her admiration had twisted into envy.
So she had to win.
Artifact, Trait, every power at her disposal.
And that.
Was exactly what Zien wanted.
The full might of history's greatest genius. He couldn't help but anticipate a single Saber's potential.
The match began.
Manifold mana swirled from Lucia's body, whipping up a gale.
Trained from childhood on elixirs, her unique mana was explosive.
Plus, her three artifacts reacted to it, each unleashing distinct powers.
This was Lucia's strategy.
Grip the sword with maximum power on display.
No probing against a known foe.
Tzzzzzt!!
Mana surged through her body.
It kept reinforcing her physique.
To boost speed, it raced up her legs, thighs, waist, to her arms.
Just maintaining it drained mana like a sieve. What she'd achieved was staggering physical enhancement.
Mana churned, kicking up dirt, her uniform cape flapping wildly.
Impressive.
Zien lowered into stance, sword ready.
Lucia lived up to the Elquenes name. Wielding that much mana as naturally as her own body wasn't pure talent.
It demanded relentless mana burn, bone-deep effort to hone the feel. The hardworking genius. What a monster for a finals opponent.
Slash!
Lucia unleashed a swift strike. Buffed by physical enhancement and her artifact Thread of Wind, she moved like a beam of light.
Clang!
Swords clashed—and Zien surged in.
He parried her blade upward, then slashed down.
Clang! Craaaang!
Every motion of Zien's sword carried profound technique. Without buffs, it might've ended her.
But it wasn't hopeful for him.
Conversely, her enhancement blocked even that skill gap. Mana blazed, accelerating her judgment.
She blocked that?
Yielding momentum now would be dangerous.
The longer it dragged, the worse for Zien.
Yet he grew calmer.
As blows traded, his past life's swordsmanship resurfaced. Body different? No matter. It adapted, becoming one with his current form.
Craaaang!!
Lucia had the power edge, yet she staggered. Zien's blitz threw her balance.
His swordplay sharpened, sped, grew deadlier with fatigue. Sensing crisis, Lucia leaped back. Thud!
That just now...
For the first time, chills ran through Lucia as Zien's sword stormed on. The escalating gale threatened to devour her. Complex emotions writhed in her chest.
I want to win.
Competitive fire.
An emotion the undefeated Lucia had long forgotten. No words needed between them. Swords spoke for swordsmen.
Clang! Kagang!
In those clashes, any tangled feelings poured into the blade.
Lucia smiled faintly.
What life, what mindset forged such an unyielding path?
The answer was clear.
This guy's insane. Sword-mad, eyes for nothing else—a born swordsman.
No half-hearted resolve beats him.
Lucia shoved with all her might, blasting Zien back as her mystic artifact Diana flared.
In that gap, she extended her hand—and for the first time in the tournament, her Stigma shone.
Whoosh!
The manifested magic tool: a massive crystal throne. Light refracted through it in iridescent beauty. Lucia ascended the glass steps and sat.
A dreamlike scene too ethereal for the colosseum.
Yet it suited Lucia so perfectly that Zien accepted it.
So that's why her moniker is Emperor...
Zien once thought it grandiose, but now? Fitting. Seated high on the crystal throne, gazing down imperiously—Lucia seemed born to rule.
"...King's Call."
Her cool blue eyes pierced Zien. Beside the throne, three crystals rose.
They writhed like living things, taking form.
A sword-bearing knight.
An archer with bow drawn.
A staff-wielding mage.
Like royal guards, the crystal trio encircled her.
At her peak mana, Lucia could craft anything crystalline.
"But."
Zien gripped his sword and assumed stance.
Shatter!
A blinding iaijutsu slash.
The crystal knight exploded into fragments. Zien eyed the shards.
"Flashy doesn't mean strong."
Celia's genius faced a Sword God.
My Previous Life was the Strongest Sword God