"You got this Lyra! Remember how much we trained!"
Zephyr was leaning over the railing, looking noticeably shaky.
The golden god leaned back in his seat, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets.
"You want my advice, bro? Start looking for a new Champion. You see the power that guy radiates? She'll be dead in an instant. Oh, but don't start lookin' just yet, actually. I need to find a new one myself."
Zephyr looked back at him. "The hells wrong with you, Velocis!? You got no faith in my Champion, you don't even have any faith in your own Champion. Why the hell did you pick him!?"
Velocis shrugged. "Kid knew what it was about, biggest fan of race cars I've ever seen, and that's saying somethin' considering I'm the biggest fan and creator of race cars across the realms."
Serendelle looked dumbfounded. "You only picked Ray because he liked Race cars!?"
Velocis shrugged once more. "He's a fast runner too."
————
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The screen flickered once more.
[Lyra]
Lyra's gaze was fixated on the screen as she stepped forward, her legs clearly shaking.
The elegant man gave Lyra a hard gaze.
"You know, if you surrender now, I'll give you a quick and painless death. I can't promise that if you squirm."
Lyra looked down to lock eyes with him.
"Not a chance in hell."
He clicked his tongue. "'Tis a shame for someone as beautiful as yourself to be riddled with such brutish language."
Lyra didn't respond, she feared speaking too much would reveal just how scared she was.
Everyone else had left the grass field, leaving just the two combatants in the open area.
'I just need to give it everything I've got... That's what Sachi told me... Everything I've got...'
Lyra drew the Phoenix Talon, it's orange hue radiating in the light.
'My bow is my best bet... But I don't think it'll hold on for much longer...'
The wooden bow on her back was rickety, her previous uses of it made it look like it'd snap with the next shot.
'...I just need one good shot.'
From a small box on the side, Sachi watched on nervously.
'Come on, Lyra...'
The digital screen revealed a countdown, followed along by the announcer.
"3...2...1...Go!"
An alarm sounds, and the match officially begins.
In an instant, the tip of Fynn's spear narrowly scratched Lyra's cheek. She couldn't even react.
"It's not too late to give up."
Dion scoffed from the side. "He's toying with her."
Lyra bit her lip. 'He wouldn't give up… Not yet.'
She rushed forward, closing the gap between them.
'His spear only works from a distance, if I stay close to him, he won't be able to do anything!'
As swiftly as she was struck, Fynn leaped back away from her, keeping Lyra just close enough to attack.
"You think I wouldn't have thought of such a cowardly tactic? You can't win, so stop trying!"
He thrusted his spear once more. This time, he wasn't faster than Lyra could react. She bobbed to the left and rushed him once more. Once again, he jumped back.
"I'm cowardly!? You're the one who keeps running!"
He clicks his tongue as he readies his spear. "Tis not running, but a strategic maneuver!"
'Tch, I'm not going to get anywhere like this… but I can't risk wasting my bow right now.'
Fynn shouted angrily "Just give up already!"
He lunged forward in the blink of an eye. His spear pierced Lyra's shoulder, the sound of torn flesh echoed through the stadium.
Lyra recoiled, letting out a high pitched scream. "Agh!"
He retracted his spear and stepped back. "I told you to give up, but 'tis clear you have more issues than just your intelligence."
Lyra held her dagger in her right hand; the same side that was just injured. She swapped her dagger to her left as blood seeped through her tunic.
'One fast, one slow, one fast… He wouldn't have attacked me slowly if he didn't have a choice… There's an opening!'
Recklessly, she charged him again. Instead of immediately fleeing, now he retaliated. He tightened his grip on the wooden handle and thrusted his spear forward.
The attack was slow enough for her to easily avoid it.
'I was right! That means the next attack will be…'
With her off hand, Lyra slashed at Fynn, leaving a cut on his cheek.
He jumped back and clicked his tongue. "You damn wench! I gave you plenty of chances to make this easy, and now I'll make you regret it with a slow, painful death!"
'This one will be fast, and I won't be able to dodge it… But…'
'If he really wants to kill me slowly, his options are narrow.'
Lyra's eyes flash, her thoughts blessed with the potential of a winning strategy.
'Damn… It's never simple in this realm, is it? It's a gamble, but I have the Goddess of Luck on my side.'
'Just watch me, Sachi! I'm giving it everything I've got!'
Fynn shouts, lunging forward faster than Lyra can see.
'If he wanted to cripple me… he'd aim here!'
With her left hand, Lyra raised her dagger and slash down directly in front of her right leg.
A sharp pain shoots through Lyra as the spear pierces her leg.
Her left leg.
She let out a sharp scream once more as she collapsed to the ground.
The gaping hole in her leg oozed blood, and her vision began to blur as the man stood over top of her.
"Your pointless struggle is over."
'No… I was so close… why..?'
From box to the side, Sachi shot up and shouted. "It's not over, Lyra! Don't give up!"
She could barely hear him, but she heard enough.
'Sachi..? I'm sorry…'
'But I haven't given it all I've got yet…'
'I still have…'
She reached and pulled for the makeshift bow on her back.
Fynn scoffed. "You can barely hold that. 'Tis is no point in struggling. You will free from this life as soon as you learn that lesson."
With her injured arm, she pulled back the bowstring. A translucent arrow took its spot between the wooden frame and the string. She pulled the string back as much as her weakened state would let her, and released the arrow.
The arrow whirled by Fynn's head and into the air, not even coming close to hitting him.
"Why do you even have a bow? You're a pitiful archer."
With his spear, he smacked the bow out of her hands. The bow destroyed itself upon impact with the grassy terrain.
Lyra laid back onto the ground, laughing in a quiet hum.
Fynn raised an eyebrow. "Have you finally accepted your worthless struggles as a comedy act? Or perhaps you've gone insane. Not that it matters."
He raised his spear, and began to ready himself to strike once more.
Lyra looked up, and through her blurry vision she locked eyes with him.
"Wind isn't stagnant… It changes direction as it travels…"
"…And I am the Champion of the God of Wind."
As if an unnatural force was compelling it, the arrow that flew into the sky now shifted, aiming downwards.
Fynn frowned. "It would seem you have gone mad, then."
A incessant whirling sound radiated from above the man, but he simply wasn't quick enough to react.
The translucent arrow pierced the back of his skull. His spear thud to the ground, along with his body.
Lyra's laughing grew silent, and neither Champion was moving.