Chapter 150
Rayne put every bit of strength he could muster into the shield bash.
The impact echoed throughout the arena like a hammer striking metal. Atticus was immediately sent rolling through the dirt, his body tumbling several times before finally coming to a stop. The side of his helmet where the shield had connected now carried a visible dent, the metal warped inward from the force of the blow.
Rayne didn't waste a single second admiring it.
The moment Atticus hit the ground, death mana surged down his arm and into his blade. A [Death Strike] formed almost instantly before he swung it forward. The black arc of energy crossed the distance between them and slammed directly into Atticus's chest.
The explosion of mana sent sand flying in every direction.
For a brief moment, the entire arena seemed to go still.
Thousands of spectators stared at the scene below before a wave of voices erupted from every section of the stands. Some shouted in surprise. Others cursed. Many simply screamed because they had not expected to see Atticus lying in the dirt like this.
Rayne ignored all of it. His eyes remained fixed on his cousin.
Unfortunately, a single [Death Strike] wasn't enough.
The armour Atticus wore was clearly an artifact. Rayne had suspected as much before, and now he was certain. The attack had landed cleanly, yet only a dent remained in the chest piece where the mana had struck.
Still, that didn't mean he intended to stop.
As Atticus began pushing himself off the ground, Rayne immediately launched another [Death Strike], albeit a bit weaker.
This one wasn't aimed at the chest.
It flew higher.
The arc of black mana clipped the side of Atticus's neck just as he managed to rise. His helmet was sent spinning away across the arena floor while a thin line of blood appeared along the side of his neck.
Atticus immediately cursed. The expression on his face twisted into something ugly as he glared across the arena.
For the first time since the battle began, the noble was wounded, and at once lightning erupted around his blade.
Rayne immediately moved to the side, expecting it to pass him by like several others, but instead the arc exploded the moment it reached him.
The blast caught him before he could fully evade.
Pain exploded through his body as he was thrown across the sand. Parts of his armour cracked under the force of the attack and the world spun for a second before he crashed onto his back.
A groan escaped his lips.
Every muscle felt like it had been struck with a hammer. Even so, he forced himself to move.
The moment he started pushing himself upright, Atticus was already standing again.
The noble spat blood onto the sand before staring down at him.
“You are trash,” Atticus said, his voice carrying across the battlefield. “Just because the gods granted you mana doesn't make you any less of a piece of trash.”
Rayne only scoffed. He barely had enough breath left to respond anyway.
Unfortunately, Atticus wasn't interested in hearing an answer. The noble immediately rushed forward.
Lightning crackled around his blade as he closed the distance in seconds. Rayne knew he wouldn't be able to avoid the attack in time.
So he didn't try. Instead, threads of [Weaver's Protection] shot outward from his armour.
The mana threads gathered around his neck and formed a small barrier just as Atticus's sword came down.
Steel struck the threads, and the blade bounced away, but only for a brief moment.
Then Atticus snarled and poured even more mana into the attack.
Lightning surged. The threads immediately began to give way. They simply weren't strong enough, not anymore.
The constant use of [War Pulse] had drained far too much of his mana. His reserves felt almost empty now, and there wasn't enough left to strengthen the threads any further.
In fact, he had already stopped using [War Pulse] entirely. At best, Rayne estimated he had enough left for one final [Death Strike].
And that also meant Rayne wouldn't be able to protect himself much longer.
The threads of [Weaver's Protection] were already fraying apart beneath the constant pressure. Every second Atticus pushed more lightning mana into his blade, more of the threads snapped apart and dissolved into nothingness.
And Atticus seemed to also realize that he didn't have much mana left.
A cruel smile appeared on his face as he suddenly took a step back. The pressure on the threads vanished for a brief moment before the noble immediately raised his blade again, this time aiming directly at Rayne's chest.
Knowing he couldn't dodge in time, Rayne reacted on instinct. He turned and shoved his shield forward.
The lightning-covered sword slammed into it.
For a moment, the shield held, then it finally broke.
Wood splintered apart beneath the force of the strike. Fragments exploded outward across the arena while cracks raced through the entire surface. A second later, the weapon that had protected him through the duel shattered completely.
Yet Rayne had never intended to stop the attack. Only delay it.
The moment the shield exploded, he shifted and swept his leg low. Atticus was still committed to the strike and couldn't react in time.
Rayne's leg slammed into his ankle, and the noble stumbled. Unfortunately, not before the blade completed part of its path.
Lightning flashed across Rayne's shoulder as steel cut through armor and flesh alike. Pain immediately lanced through his body, forcing a grunt from his lips, but the opening he needed had already appeared.
Before Atticus could recover his footing and launch another attack, Rayne threw himself forward.
The tackle caught both of them completely off balance.
They crashed into the sand together, rolling through the arena floor while the crowd erupted around them. Dust exploded into the air as neither man managed to fully control the fall.
The moment they stopped rolling, both reacted at almost exactly the same time.
Rayne drove his sword downward toward Atticus's chest. Atticus brought his own blade up to intercept.
Steel met steel, and neither weapon moved.
The two of them strained against each other, faces only a few feet apart as they fought for leverage. Muscles trembled beneath armor while sand shifted beneath their bodies.
Then, almost simultaneously, both made the same decision.
Death mana surged through Rayne's sword. Lightning exploded along Atticus's blade. And the two aspects crashed into one another.
But only a second later, it became obvious that Rayne was merely delaying the inevitable.
The moment death and lightning mana collided, Atticus began forcing more and more power into the clash. Golden arcs crackled wildly around both blades while Rayne felt what little mana he still possessed draining away at an alarming rate.
Atticus clearly realized it as well because a vicious grin slowly appeared on his face as he continued pressing forward.
Electricity crawled down Rayne's arm and through his body, making his muscles twitch painfully while his [Danger Sense] screamed inside his head. He wasn't going to hold this much longer.
The realization came instantly and rather than continue struggling against the inevitable, Rayne suddenly jumped backwards. The pressure vanished at once, sending Atticus's lightning mana surging upward and into the sky.
The noble quickly recovered his balance and looked at him with a sneer.
“You are really a dirty pest,” he spat. “I'm going to fucking kill you for aiming at my neck.”
Then he swung his blade again.
Another arc of lightning tore through the air. Rayne had perhaps a second to make a decision and in the end he committed to a strategy he had discussed more than once during training.
Instead of moving around the attack, he rushed directly toward it.
A collective gasp escaped the crowd as he dropped into a slide at the last possible moment, the lightning passing barely above his head before crashing into the arena wall behind him.
Relief flashed through him for a brief moment. At least this one hadn't exploded.
Unfortunately Atticus reacted immediately. The noble raised his blade again, preparing another attack before Rayne could close the distance.
Knowing he wouldn't get another chance, his hand shot toward his belt and pulled free one of the health potion vials attached there.
“Like I will let you drink—”
Atticus never finished the sentence.
Instead of bringing the vial toward his mouth, Rayne hurled it straight at him.
The noble's eyes widened instantly. Instinct took over and his blade came up to intercept. The sword struck the vial and shattered it apart.
Glass exploded outward while the liquid inside burst directly across Atticus's face. Most of it splashed into his eyes.
The scream that followed echoed throughout the entire arena.
Atticus immediately dropped his blade and grabbed at his face while stumbling backwards. Around them, the crowd fell silent in complete disbelief as the liquid stung his eyes.
Rayne didn't hesitate. The moment he saw the opening, he rushed forward and punched Atticus directly in the face. The impact sent the noble sprawling across the sand.
For a brief moment, memories of the Crimson Guard flashed through his mind.
He remembered being dragged through the city. He remembered the sneer on Atticus's face. He remembered every insult and every humiliation
Then his boot slammed into the man's chest hard enough to force a groan from him. Lightning still crackled across Atticus's body, but Rayne no longer cared.
He dropped down on top of him and started punching. Again and again his fist crashed into Atticus's face while blood sprayed across the sand and as the noble desperately tried to protect himself, the entire arena stared in stunned silence as the last Frayser beat him into the dirt.
Every punch landed with a sickening crack.
The health potion that had shattered across Atticus's face earlier smeared across Rayne's knuckles, and every time his fist crashed into the man's face, some of the liquid splashed between them. Ironically, it was probably healing part of the damage as quickly as he was causing it, but Rayne didn't care. He simply kept going.
At some point he even dropped his sword entirely.
His left hand grabbed Atticus by the collar and pinned him against the sand while his right fist continued rising and falling.
Honestly, he didn't need to do any of this. The battle had already been won the moment Atticus lost his blade and his vision. A sword across the chest would have ended things far faster.
But Rayne wasn't trying to simply win.
He was trying to send a message.
Ever since arriving in Valers, people had looked at him and seen a Frayser. The Crimson Guard had looked at him and seen an easy target. Atticus had looked at him and seen someone he could humiliate whenever he wished.
That needed to change.
If someone came after him, Rayne wanted them to remember this moment. He wanted them to remember what happened to Atticus. He wanted them to remember that no matter who stood behind them, whether it was a noble house, a prince, or an entire army, he would drag them into the dirt if they pushed him far enough.
So he kept punching.
Again and again his fist crashed down until blood covered his knuckles and splattered across the sand. Atticus's attempts to resist gradually weakened. The lightning moving around his body became less frequent. The half curses disappeared. Then even the groans stopped.
Only then did Rayne finally pause.
His chest rose and fell heavily as he stared down at the unconscious noble beneath him. For a moment he simply remained there before pushing himself upright and stumbling back several steps.
Immediately he let out a curse.
Residual lightning mana still danced across his armour and discharged into him as he moved away. Pain shot through his muscles, making parts of his body twitch involuntarily, but despite that, a simple realization settled inside his mind.
It was over.
He had won.
For the first time since the battle began, Rayne raised his gaze toward the stands. Thousands upon thousands of spectators were staring at him.
Nobody cheered. Nobody booed. Most of them simply looked stunned.
They looked at him as people looked at a demon they weren't entirely sure they understood, and for a brief moment he almost laughed.
Then he turned toward the rest of the arena.
Part of him expected to see Bran and Jason standing over the remaining Crimson Guards. Instead, the moment his eyes moved in that direction, [Danger Sense] exploded inside his mind.
Rayne froze.
A second later he spun around and found Mikel charging toward him.
The guard's face was twisted with fury as he swung his blade toward l his neck, and he barely managed to raise an arm. Part of him wanted to reach toward the bracelet hidden beneath his armour.
Then Mikel suddenly stumbled.
The man took another step before collapsing directly at Rayne's feet.
Rayne blinked. An arrow protruded from the guard's back. Slowly he lifted his head and looked across the arena.
Bran stood there with blood running down one shoulder. His armour was damaged, his breathing heavy, yet his bow remained raised. The old ranger met his gaze and simply gave him a small nod.
Before Rayne could say anything, a familiar amplified voice echoed throughout the arena.
“The Valerian Soldiers are victorious!”