The moment the divine bell rang, Hayama vanished from his position. Only a fleeting streak of red shadow shot beneath the altar's radiant light.
In less than a heartbeat, two shuriken tore through the air, leaving behind sharp trails of wind aimed straight at Caelendir's chest.
The Prince of Light glanced at them calmly. Then he drew his needle-thin sword from its sheath just as the weapons neared him.
Ting! Ting!
Both shuriken were deflected into the air, splitting into fragments of metal that spun among the crystal rays.
"A weapon made of fragmented metal? This is my first time seeing such a thing used in combat," he murmured, analyzing.
But before he could think further, a crimson blur rushed from his left.
Caelendir's eyes instinctively turned toward it. Yet all he saw was the gleam of a crescent-shaped blade.
"Waterfall Slash!"
Hayama's voice echoed as his Kusanagi blade carved a beautiful arc like a crescent moon hanging in the night sky.
Yet Caelendir stopped the attack with only his left hand.
CLANG!
A burst of light exploded between them. The pressure from the collision shook the crystal pillars surrounding the arena.
Caelendir leaned closer toward Hayama, his smile still unwavering.
"Pointless," he whispered coldly.
Hayama stepped back, breaking the clash of steel.
One of his brows lifted slightly. Beneath his black mask, the faint outline of a smile appeared.
"Pointless?"
Caelendir blinked as Hayama's body suddenly vanished from sight.
"He disappeared?"
His gaze swept rapidly around the arena. Then the sharp whistle of something slicing through the air made him instinctively look upward.
Above him, a massive black disc spun rapidly toward him.
"The same metal weapon?"
Caelendir leaped gracefully, twisting his body in midair like a dolphin breaching the ocean's surface.
Time itself seemed to freeze when the spinning shuriken passed only inches beneath his floating body.
The rotating blade sent his golden hair fluttering.
"A larger version?" Caelendir thought, his pupils narrowing.
But before he landed, another crimson shadow appeared behind the weapon's trajectory.
"What?!"
Hayama caught the giant shuriken with one hand at the end of its path.
He spun his body.
Then hurled it again without breaking the momentum of its rotation.
The shuriken abruptly changed direction and shot toward Caelendir, who was still suspended in midair.
Hayama's pupils widened. His breath tightened as he waited for the perfect strike.
Yet in the air, Caelendir merely smiled faintly as though the attack posed no real threat.
His body twisted elegantly. His armor fluttered like dancing light.
He spun twice in the air to evade the shuriken by mere inches, allowing the metal blade to pass him before it pierced through a crystal pillar and embedded itself deep within it.
BOOOOM!
Caelendir landed gracefully. Then he brushed back his blond hair that had fallen across his face.
From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the pillar of light now cracked by the tremendous force of the shuriken.
"An impressive throw," he praised inwardly.
His eyes narrowed before returning to Hayama, who was still regulating his breathing.
"You're fast. But still not fast enough."
In the stands, thousands of elves rose to their feet in unison, cheering passionately.
"Caelendir! Caelendir! The Great Light!" Their voices sounded like a sacred hymn.
Meanwhile, the human side remained silent. Some swallowed nervously, while others lowered their heads in anxiety.
The President gripped the armrest of his throne so tightly that the veins in his hands bulged.
"How can he possibly match an Elf's reflexes under full light?"
Johan continued watching the arena with an unreadable expression. But his eyes were sharp, as though he were reading something invisible.
"That's exactly it, Sir. He isn't fighting the Elf."
"He's fighting the light itself."
Hayama stared sharply at Caelendir, as though calculating odds in a deadly game.
"It seems ordinary attacks won't affect him," he murmured softly, almost to himself.
He lowered his head slightly. His fingers reached for the last large shuriken hanging at his waist.
With one smooth yet swift motion, he spun it in his palm, creating a shrill current of wind that echoed against the arena's crystal walls.
The blade's gleam collided with the altar's light, producing flickering reflections in Caelendir's eyes. The elf subtly adjusted his stance into a ready position.
"So you intend to repeat the same attack again," he said flatly, though his brows furrowed.
Caelendir shifted half a step, lowering his center of gravity. His stance now resembled that of a master fencer preparing to strike.
Light reflected along the length of his needle sword from hilt to tip through the six pillars surrounding them.
In the next instant, Hayama hurled the shuriken with such speed that not a single eye could follow its trajectory.
Caelendir swung his sword almost simultaneously.
"Halo Revertis!"
The shrill clang of metal colliding with light rang out as the shuriken was launched into the air.
Spinning rapidly.
Scattering reflections like thousands of silver fireflies.
Yet beneath it, a faint glimmer followed the spinning weapon's movement.
A nearly invisible wire connected Hayama's fingers to the deadly blade.
"Got you!" Hayama shouted.
He yanked the wire sharply. The shuriken spun back along the path it had previously missed.
"A wire to alter its trajectory?" Caelendir froze for an instant. Reflexively, he swung the tip of his sword again to deflect the returning shuriken.
But Hayama twisted his wrist instead, adding even greater momentum.
The wire abruptly halted the shuriken's rotation.
And in a fraction of a second, the massive blade exploded into a storm of deadly fragments.
"Ah… a new trick?"
Caelendir narrowed his eyes after realizing the attack had never intended to strike him directly.
He loosened his grip slightly on the base of the blade.
Then, with one elegant movement, he spun halfway around. The needle sword in his hand left behind a streak of light like a glowing horizon splitting the heavens.
"Lux Crescentia!"
Golden brilliance erupted around him.
The fragments of shuriken flying toward him slammed against a wall of light as though striking an invisible barrier.
They glowed.
Then dissolved into silver dust.
Hayama observed every movement, every pattern, perhaps even every opening within Caelendir's actions.
When the light faded, the Elf Prince still stood there without a single scratch. His blond hair swayed gently beneath the altar's radiance.
Cheers from the mythology faction thundered once more, praising their Prince of Light who still appeared flawless in every way.
Hayama drew a long breath. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the Kusanagi sword sheathed across his back.
"So this attack failed too..." he whispered quietly.
Yet those eyes—the eyes of a true shadow assassin—remained calm.
There was no sign of despair.
Only new calculations beginning to turn within his mind.