Ayaka sat next to Kevin and naturally propped her feet up on the stool.
As they snacked on melon seeds, they chatted idly, the atmosphere light and relaxed.
Before long, it was March 7th's turn to take the stage.
March 7th strode onto the arena with confidence, her hands on her hips and her head held high.
"Sharpshooter! March 7th! Come on stage!" she declared boldly.
The crowd erupted into cheers. March 7th was young, vibrant, and undeniably talented, making her a favorite among the audience.
Hearing the applause, March 7th glanced toward the stands, locking eyes with Kevin. With a smirk, she tilted her chin up proudly.
Kevin scoffed, whispering teasingly to Ayaka, "Look at her, acting all dramatic! I bet she's going to destroy her opponent!"
Ayaka chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yes, yes, Kevin is the best."
On the competition stage, the excitement was palpable. As March 7th basked in the crowd's adoration, the announcer's voice rang out.
"And now, her challenger—Diluc!"
The air shifted. A red-haired man stepped onto the stage, his long coat billowing behind him as his piercing gaze locked onto March 7th. The crowd roared with excitement—Diluc's reputation preceded him. He was a formidable fighter, known for his composed yet devastating combat style.
March 7th's eyes widened for a brief moment before she grinned, spinning her bow into position. "Oh? So you're my opponent? This should be fun."
Diluc simply nodded, his expression unreadable. He drew his claymore, the metal gleaming under the arena lights.
"Nothing to say?!" March smiled fiercely.
Diluc merely sighed in response.
The referee raised a hand. "Ready... Begin!"
The moon cast a pale glow over the ruined courtyard as March 7th tightened her grip on her bow. Across from her, Diluc stood tall, his flaming claymore resting at his side. The only sounds were the distant rustling of wind and the soft crackle of embers rising from his weapon.
March inhaled, steadying herself. Alright, he's the quiet, broody type. That's fine. I can work with that. Just gotta keep my distance...
She leaped back, already drawing her bow, and loosed an arrow. The moment it left her fingers, she snapped her other hand forward—causing the projectile to explode into a spread of icy shards, scattering toward her opponent.
Diluc moved. With one sweeping motion, his claymore ignited, cutting through the air in an arc of searing flames. The heat alone melted her ice before it could touch him.
March narrowed her eyes. Yeah, saw that coming.
She rolled to the side, firing another arrow—not at him, but at the ground beneath his feet. Ice spread instantly, aiming to lock his movement.
Before the frost could take hold, Diluc pushed off the ground, his speed closing the distance between them in a heartbeat.
March barely had time to summon her shield before—
CLANG!
A flaming blade crashed into her barrier, sending a shockwave through her arms. The heat threatened to crack her ice, but she gritted her teeth and held firm.
"Not bad, but—"
She shoved against the shield, redirecting the force to push herself backward, flipping through the air as she landed a safe distance away.
"I'm really good at being annoying!" she finished, already charging another shot.
Diluc's only response was another forward assault. This time, his blade was wreathed in flames, the glow turning the night air into a sweltering haze. He slashed downward.
March dodged. Barely. The ground where she had stood exploded into molten debris.
He hits way too hard!
Thinking fast, she created a thin sheet of ice beneath her boots, shifting her weight and skating just as another fiery slash came her way. She ducked under it, spun, and launched a blast of cold straight at his exposed side.
The ice connected. For a moment, a layer of frost coated his armor—but it wasn't enough. With a flick of his wrist, flames erupted from his body, breaking the frost instantly.
March groaned. "Of course that didn't work."
Diluc surged forward, his claymore glowing an even deeper red. She knew this attack—his ultimate technique.
A phoenix of fire burst forth from his sword, rushing toward her in an inferno of destruction.
March's mind raced. She couldn't block this. She couldn't dodge it. So—
She raised her bow, aimed directly at the oncoming fire, and whispered, "Try this on for size."
Ice burst from her weapon—not in an arrow, but in a solid, freezing wave. It met the phoenix head-on, frost and flame clashing in a violent, blinding explosion.
Steam roared into the sky. The courtyard trembled.
March didn't stop.
She dashed forward through the mist, using the moment of uncertainty. In one motion, she flipped over Diluc's shoulder, pivoted mid-air, and unleashed a direct shot of ice at his back.
A perfect hit.
The freezing energy surged through his body, ice climbing over his arms and legs. He moved to counter—but his claymore was already weighed down by layers of frost.
March landed, sliding backward as Diluc stumbled, his movements sluggish from the cold rapidly encasing his form.
She didn't give him time to break free.
March slammed her palm into the ground. Ice erupted in jagged spikes, racing toward him in a final, unavoidable strike.
For the first time in their fight, Diluc's flames failed to ignite.
A rush of freezing wind filled the battlefield.
When the mist settled, Diluc stood frozen in place—ice coating his limbs, his sword locked mid-swing. His breath came out in slow, visible puffs of air. seaʀᴄh thё NovelZone.fun* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
March, panting, leaned on her bow. "Hah! Gotcha."
She gave him a cocky grin. "So? You gonna say something, or am I just supposed to-?"
"I forfeit"
March blinked. Then snorted. "Figures."
The Winner is March 7th!
"YOU DID IT MARCH!"
"YOU'RE THE BEST"
With a casual flick of her wrist, she shattered some of the ice around his arms and shoulders. Not enough to free him completely—just enough to make sure he wouldn't be stuck forever.
She turned, strolling away as the frozen embers of their fight glowed softly in the night.
Behind her, she swore she heard the faintest sigh.
She smirked.
Victory was hers.
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