The roar of the previous duel had barely faded, and the dust from Hooven's beast-shifted onslaught still floated in golden plumes across the arena floor. Ari's pulse had only just begun to settle when the announcer's voice boomed again across the coliseum:
"Next duel—Keem of the Northern Quarter!"
A few cheers scattered across the stands, but not with the same intensity as before. Some chuckled. Others groaned.
Ari tilted his head. "Keem?"Kaien scoffed softly. "The clown guy?"
They'd seen him once—curled up in the corner of the waiting room, chewing on a piece of grass and humming off-key to himself, eyes half-lidded like sleep was more important than survival. He was wiry, short compared to Hooven and Xerxes, with tousled dark hair and a grin that never seemed to leave.
Now he stumbled into the arena like he'd forgotten he had a match.
"Hold up," Kaien whispered. "Is he even taking this seriously?"
Keem yawned as he waved to the crowd with exaggerated flair. "Hi everyone! Don't blink, or you might miss the grand tragedy of me tripping and dying," he shouted, earning laughter from the crowd.
His opponent, in contrast, was a hulking mage-knight clad in obsidian-etched armor, known for his ruthless compression spells—tightening magic into miniature bursts that exploded with terrifying efficiency. A serious threat.
Keem scratched his chin. "You look heavy," he told him with a playful grin.
Then it began.
The knight surged forward—spell circle already glowing beneath his boots—closing distance in an instant with a shockburst.
Keem sidestepped it like he was dodging puddles in the street.
Then another spell—this one a jagged arc of heat.
Keem ducked, hands in his pockets. "Yikes, close one."
Another. A chain spell meant to wrap him in molten chains.
Keem hopped. "Oh, spicy spaghetti. No thanks."
Ari squinted. He wasn't fighting. He was… evading. Not panicking. Not retaliating. Just smiling like this was all some kind of joke.
The crowd booed. The knight cursed.
And then…
Keem's eyes opened.
Just slightly. Barely a sliver.
And the moment they did—Ari felt it.
The air tightened. Threads began to twist. Not from Keem—but around Keem.
Kaien stood. "Wait… is that—?"
Ari leaned forward. The spiraling tattoos around Keem's eyes—those intricate, hypnotic circles—glowed.
In a flash, three of the knight's prepared spells fizzled out mid-air. The casting diagrams collapsed on themselves.
"What?" the knight snarled. He tried to recast—layers of Threads spun into a compression matrix.
Keem moved his fingers once. A lazy twirl.
And the spell unraveled.
Like a tapestry ripped from the loom, the knight's casting collapsed before it was born.
The crowd was silent.
"What you're doing," Keem finally spoke, "is cute. But your math sucks."
Another spell—this one a rapid-fire triple-burst. It shot toward Keem with deadly precision.
He didn't move.
He simply blinked.
The spells exploded—behind him.
The knight blinked in confusion. The formations had shifted mid-flight, reversed mid-cast.
Ari's heart thudded.
"He's not just dispelling," Kaien whispered. "He's rewriting the Threads in real time."
The knight, desperate now, switched to physical combat—swinging a Thread-imbued warblade that crackled with delayed detonation glyphs. He roared as he closed the gap.
Keem sighed. "Fine."
And then he lifted a single hand.
A ripple of blue-gray light spun from his palm—not a projectile, not a shield—but a calculation. Lines of runic light floated mid-air like an algebraic equation visualized in magic. Numbers. Ratios. Angles.
"Spell compression time: 2.3 seconds. Rune layering: flawed. And your wrist angle? Sloppy," Keem said.
Then he stepped forward.
No spell.
No enchantment.
Just one finger extended—he tapped the knight on the chest.
And the man crashed into the arena wall twenty meters away, like the wind had detonated inside his lungs.
Silence.
Then cheers.
No, not cheers—awe.
Keem dusted off his coat, gave a lazy bow, and yawned. "Told you not to blink."
Ari stood there, lips slightly parted.
The battlefield hadn't been shaped by might.
It had been solved.
Like a riddle Keem had already answered before the first spell was cast.
"...That was the most terrifying thing I've ever seen," Kaien whispered.
Ari couldn't help but smile, eyes locked on the thread-eyed genius leaving the arena. "He might be the smartest Threadbearer I've ever met."