Pain tore through Vaughn, a thin streak of blood staining the snow behind him. The wound wasn't deep, but it was enough to make his temper flare. Axel's cuts weren't just sharp—they were deliberate. Every move was clean, efficient, and fucking irritating. Vaughn had thickened his Stone Armor to bolster his defense, but it slowed him down, dulled his agility.

"One clean hit. Just one, I'll make you remember it for the rest of your life." Vaughn gritted his teeth, forcing his rage down and playing it patient.

Then Axel spoke again—and the words cut deeper than the sword.

"Richard, go. Find Yara and bring her here."

......

For Vaughn, fighting a supposed support-type Awakener for this long without putting him down was humiliating. But from the outside, the situation looked completely different.

Everyone watching could see Axel was holding back.

They'd witnessed it themselves—the devastating strike that erased Octavius in an instant. If that same force had landed on Vaughn, even with his vaunted Stone Armor, he'd be lucky to crawl away alive. And Axel wasn't even moving at the lightning speed he'd shown earlier. Against Vaughn, he was almost leisurely, his attacks sharp but never overcommitted.

"What the hell is Axel doing? Toying with him?"

"Vaughn looks pathetic…"

"Shit, he's walking all over a top-ten Awakener like it's nothing. Maybe the Intelligence Bureau wasn't exaggerating after all."

The Olympic Sports Center had erupted the moment Axel carved through Octavius. No one had expected much from this match. The Eagle's Crest Command had already been wiped, and most assumed Bloodstone Warfare would crumble just as easily under Stormwatch. But now? The tables had flipped, and the arena buzzed with tension.

Some were awestruck by Axel's calm dominance, while others cursed him with clenched fists.

"Terrence, hurry the fuck up and take out Yara! I put all my money on you!"

"Yeah, smash her!"

In the crowd, Drayke, Cassia, and Storm sat stiff and shaken.

Storm especially. He hadn't gone to the Dune class reunion, so he'd only heard secondhand tales about Axel's strength. Seeing it in person, though, was something else entirely. Axel fought better than most of their instructors.

The three of them were left with a tangle of emotions. They'd planned to catch up with Axel after the match, maybe share a drink. Now, Cassia and Storm both felt a creeping embarrassment, as if reaching out to him might be laughable. Only Drayke leaned forward, eyes glittering with excitement.

"I'm rich," he whispered, grinning like a maniac. "I can brag about this for a whole year. After the match, I'm getting Axel's autograph—hell, I'll make him sign until my hand cramps. Then I'll sell them all."

Cassia and Storm exchanged a look, both suppressing sighs. They couldn't bear to crush Drayke's enthusiasm.

......

On the Landscape Scroll, fighters across the peaks all noticed the same thing.

"Axel could clearly finish Vaughn off. So why isn't he?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. "Why not just kill Vaughn first, then send Richard to find Yara?"

Debates spread, but no one had a solid answer.

At the summit of Eagle's Crest Command, Sergio lazily flicked open his folding fan. "This Axel," he said with a faint smile, "he's too damn confident."

The others gathered around. "What do you mean?"

Snap. Sergio closed the fan with his long fingers, each word crisp. "He's copying Vaughn's style. He's baiting them."

The group blinked, stunned. "Baiting who? There are only three left. The odds of luring someone are slim. And how can he know it'll be Yara?"

"He doesn't know," Sergio replied. "But whether it's Yara or Terrence, either one works for him."

A teammate frowned. "If it's Terrence, you're saying he's confident enough to fight two-on-one and still win?"

Sergio chuckled, flicking his fan again. "If Terrence shows, Axel can guarantee Yara's safety. He'll crush Vaughn in record time, then fight alongside her. That makes it two-on-one in their favor."

As for Richard? Sergio didn't even bother mentioning him. That guy's combat power was negligible.

"Wait—so if Axel plans to team up with Yara, how is that confidence?"

Sergio sighed and shot his companions a look of exasperation. "Idiots. Because he believes even if he can't beat Terrence, he can stall him long enough for Yara to regroup."

His words made the others pause, reassessing Axel with fresh eyes. The man wasn't just powerful—he was cunning.

"Then his whole plan's a bust," one muttered. "Yara's about to lose."

Sergio nodded, glancing at Yara's battlefield feed on the Scroll. "If Axel sees her eliminated, Vaughn will be finished immediately after."

If Axel had overheard Sergio, he might've called him a brother. The strategist had guessed half his thinking right.

Yes—part of the reason Axel hadn't killed Vaughn yet was exactly what Sergio suspected.

The other half was simpler: Axel had a cleaner, more energy-efficient way of breaking tanks like Vaughn.

"Fuck! Why is this taking me so long?!" Vaughn's composure was unraveling.

Axel only carved small cuts here and there. They healed quick, but the humiliation cut deeper than the wounds.

And Vaughn couldn't do a damn thing about it. Axel was faster, sharper, and impossible to land a killing blow on.

Then, all at once, both fighters froze.

High above, the glowing list of names flickered—Yara's went dark.

Axel's pupils narrowed. Vaughn threw his head back and laughed. "That's it, you slippery bastard!"

Relief spread across Vaughn's face. His worst fear had been Axel dragging Yara into this, eliminating him, and turning on Terrence together. But now Yara was gone. To Vaughn, the match was practically over.

Axel exhaled quietly. His plan had fallen apart. Looked like he'd have to face Terrence head-on.

"It's over," he muttered. He was just about to ignite the Burning Flame inside Vaughn when a surge of killing intent exploded from the nearby hill.

"Vaughn, why are you in such a mess?"

Terrence's blood-soaked figure appeared in the distance.

Axel's eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, he swung the Red Flame Blade, channeling Force until the steel blazed crimson. His roar split the air:

"Universal Invincible Divine Slash!"

The blade erupted, flooding Vaughn's vision in blood-red light.

His breathing hitched. A crushing sense of danger smothered him. "How the fuck did he suddenly get this strong?!"

His ironclad muscles split under the onslaught, blood spraying. Vaughn howled. The blow left him shredded, barely standing—but not dead. Relief flickered in his eyes. He'd survived it.

The blast threw snow into a storm around them. His vision blurred—then a savage heat ripped through him.

Swish.

Vaughn's scream cut off. White light flashed. And then he was gone. His name faded from the sky above.

Terrence had just reached a hundred meters when he froze. For the first time, real fear flickered in his war-hungry eyes.

"Holy shit… so strong. How the hell did you do that strike? Something's not right…"

Even he couldn't have killed Vaughn in one blow.

"'Universal Invincible Divine Slash'…" Terrence muttered, disbelief etched on his face. "What kind of bullshit name is that…?"

"Is Axel still holding back? He actually one-shotted Vaughn with that strike?" "Tsk, what a waste. Axel's damn strong, but I bet that blow burned through a huge chunk of his Force energy."

On the sixteen isolated peaks, chatter buzzed. Everyone was still reeling from the spectacle.

"Sergio, does Axel still have a chance?"

By now they'd all seen enough to know: aside from Terrence — and maybe Sergio himself — nobody in this whole damn competition could stand against Axel.

But Sergio didn't answer right away. He tapped his fan against his chin, lost in thought, then murmured, "Something doesn't add up… Could it be…"

The scene replayed in his mind: the instant Axel took Vaughn out. At first, he hadn't wanted to use that technique at all. But once Terrence showed up, Axel had changed his mind. Sergio's eyes narrowed, realization dawning.

"I see now… This battle depends on Terrence's brains, not just his fists."

"What the hell does intelligence have to do with it?" one of the others asked.

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