The sound of the bells filled the sky, echoing through the walls.
The crowd still chanted the name “Chocolatinho”, now with a mix of curiosity and excitement.
Backstage, Besouro slammed his staff against the ground and laughed out loud.
“Akemi also wished you luck, Chocolatinho! She said it’s gonna be fun watching you get beaten up by the Huntress of Autumn!”
Lukas sighed. “Such inspiring words, thanks…”
Besouro gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder.
“Relax, cousin. People love an underdog. Just try not to die too beautifully, okay?”
Lukas adjusted his twin gladii and smirked.
“I’ll try my best to die ugly.”
The bell rang again. The world stopped.
---
?? The Beginning
Sarya Veyrunn stepped into the circle.
Torchlight reflected on her fitted armor, and her long crimson braid swayed like a living flame.
Her amber eyes met his — calm, yet dangerous.
Lukas swallowed hard. “So it’s you…”
She raised her twin blades. “It was destiny that decided.”
“No…” he replied, lifting his gladii. “It was the crooked hand of whoever moves the pieces.”
The arena shook under screams and bets.
The name “Chocolatinho” echoed like a taunt and a challenge.
Sarya just breathed.
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From the stands, Valen leaned forward, fists clenched so hard his knuckles cracked. His eyes burned with obsession.
---
??? The First Clash
The bell vibrated.
Sarya moved — silent as a shadow.
Lukas saw only flashes — twin moons cutting through the air.
He blocked the first strike by reflex.
The second nearly ripped the sword from his hand.
The third grazed his shoulder — a burning pain, blood running down his arm.
She stepped back, spinning gracefully.
“You’re slow, Fernandes.”
“I’m just giving you rhythm,” he replied, feigning calm as he looked up at the crowd.
The torches flickered. The uneven ground hid small cracks — his only real advantage.
He memorized every inch.
Inside his mind, Morgana purred:
“Aaah… that woman moves like a wildcat. So much precision, chocolatinho.”
César barked back furiously:
“Focus, soldier! The enemy is lethal, not sensual!”
Lukas lunged low, forcing her to block with the hilt of her knife.
She countered instantly — a quick hook strike.
He dodged, muscles aching. The metallic echo of their blades rang through the arena.
Valen clenched his jaw. “She’s never looked at me like that…” he muttered, eyes burning with jealousy.
---
? The Slip and the Fury
A misstep — Lukas lost balance on the rough sand.
To keep from falling, he grabbed Sarya’s shoulder…
but his hand slipped where it shouldn’t.
Time froze.
Sarya’s amber eyes locked on his, blazing with fury.
“Take your hands off me, Fernandes… or you’ll lose them.”
The crowd didn’t notice — but Valen did.
He jumped up, veins bulging, shouting soundlessly:
“I’LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!”
Inside Lukas’s head, Morgana burst into laughter:
“YES! What a beautiful disaster, my sweet mistake!”
César roared:
“DISGRACE! PURITY VIOLATED! APOLOGIZE IMMEDIATELY!”
Lukas stumbled back, speechless.
“It was… an accident.”
Sarya inhaled sharply, regaining her stance.
“Fine. Let’s finish this.”
---
?? The Autumn Strike
The air shifted. The temperature dropped.
Sarya’s movements changed — sharper, faster, predatory.
The ground cracked beneath her feet.
“Reddish Domain…” César muttered inside Lukas’s mind. “A forbidden technique.”
Her punch slammed into Lukas’s back.
The world went dark for a heartbeat. Pain exploded through his body.
But he didn’t fall.
He breathed. Felt the cracks beneath his feet. Calculated.
When she came for the final strike, he stepped aside, turning with her momentum — both blades crossed.
He parried, twisted, and used her force against her.
A shoulder strike.
A pivot.
A dry thud on the sand.
Sarya stumbled — half a circle — one more step…
Her heel touched the white boundary line.
Lukas whispered, breathless:
“Checkmate… Huntress.”
The bell thundered.
“Out of the arena! Victory to Lukas Fernandes!”
---
?? After the Storm
The arena erupted — half cheers, half boos.
Besouro jumped in the stands, yelling:
“I KNEW IT, CHOCOLATINHO! I KNEW IT!”
Sarya panted, eyes fixed on him.
Not anger this time — respect.
“You’re more dangerous than you look.”
Lukas could barely stand, every muscle screaming.
Morgana’s voice softened:
“That was beautiful, sweetheart. Pain, sweat, control… perfection.”
César added proudly:
“A tactic worthy of a commander.”
Valen buried his face in his hands — pride turned to ashes.
From above, Valquíria Fernandes rested her hammer on her shoulder, eyes narrowing.
“A clever victory… but the next one won’t be won with tricks or clever footing.”
Lukas smirked, blood running down his chin.
“Then let it come without tricks.”
The crowd chanted his name louder than ever.
“CHOCOLATINHO! CHOCOLATINHO!”
As the bell rang for the next match, Lukas lifted his swords with trembling hands.
They felt lighter now.
“One less round to die…” he murmured.
Morgana chuckled. “And one more to shine.”
End of Chapter 16
