"Watch out!" Nigel yelled, yanking William backward.
A towering structure blurred past them, moving at terrifying speed before colliding head-on with another building. The impact sent a cascade of debris crashing down, forcing them to scramble for cover.
They pushed forward, weaving through the chaos, but the city itself seemed determined to slow them down. Buildings were shifting, streets buckled under their feet, and above them, the storm crackled with unnatural energy.
"This tournament finally lives up to its name!" Dovak laughed, dodging a falling slab of concrete.
No one else found it funny. They were too busy trying not to get crushed.
"Focus!" Claire shouted. "We have less than five minutes to reach the center!"
She barely finished before a chunk of stone the size of a football smashed against her helmet. The impact threw her off balance, and she crumpled to the ground with a sharp gasp.
William rushed to her side, pulling her up as she swayed unsteadily.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern laced in his voice.
Claire hesitated. "Yeah… but my helmet's fried. I can’t see anything."
William stared at the damaged visor. "Then take it off."
"I can’t." Claire’s voice was calm, but her grip on his arm tightened. "Doesn’t matter right now. You’ll have to guide me."
William swallowed hard. "A-alright."
She leaned into him, her metal fingers gripping his shoulder for support. He stiffened.
His brain barely registered the chaos surrounding them—the crumbling city, the deafening storm—because right now, all he could think about was the warmth of her breath near his ear and the weight of her against him.
"Look!" Dovak suddenly pointed.
Not far ahead, a lone warrior stood amidst the wreckage. Clad in black samurai armor, he barely moved, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his katana.
William and Claire weren’t the only ones who noticed.
A group of at least fifteen participants had spotted the swordsman and rushed toward him, weapons raised.
The warrior finally moved.
With a single, fluid motion, he drew his blade. And not a single one of them stood a chance.
"That’s…" Nigel trailed off, unable to look away.
The swordsman wasn’t just fighting—he was performing. His movements were effortless, a seamless blend of speed, precision, and grace.
But the strangest part? There was no blood. No limbs severed, no agonized screams—only bodies dropping lifelessly to the ground as the warrior cut through them with terrifying efficiency.
A peaceful death.
Nigel forced himself to turn away. They didn’t have time to watch. His gaze flicked to William and Claire. Surprisingly, they were moving in perfect sync, William guiding her through the rubble as if they had trained together for years.
Dovak, meanwhile, kept stealing glances at the swordsman, watching in awe even as he sprinted forward.
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"Get down!" Dovak suddenly shouted.
Without hesitation, they all hit the ground. An entire building flew over their heads.
It hurtled through the sky like a projectile before slamming into another structure, both getting sucked into the massive vortex forming above them. The storm raged on, and the city was collapsing.
The final event was about to begin.
"This is getting more insane by the second," William muttered, struggling to keep his footing while making sure he didn’t take Claire down with him.
The storm had worsened.
The winds howled like a living beast, and the rain hit like a shower of needles, each drop stinging as it struck their skin. Thunder cracked overhead, splitting the sky apart, while lightning bolts continued to rip through the city, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.
Then—
A voice boomed through the chaos.
"Participants!"
It was the announcer. Her words cut through the storm, echoing through every corner of the collapsing city.
"The final event of the First Stage of the Chaos Tournament is here! You’ve had it easy so far, but this time, things will be different!"
Nigel and the others kept running, not daring to slow down.
"What must you do? Simple! The city will continue shrinking toward the center for the next thirty minutes! If you do not collect the required Diamantines before the city collapses into a single point—well, you die! But it won’t be that easy! Not only will you have to avoid getting crushed, but you’ll also have to survive the catastrophe unfolding around you! Good luck!"
A sharp beep followed, and a message flashed on their wristbands:
[THIRTHY MINUTES REMAINING]
[COLLECT THE REMAINING DIAMANTINES BEFORE THE DEADLINE]
They pushed forward, weaving through the falling rubble. If they could reach the center, they might have a chance to gather the last few Diamantines without getting crushed by the storm.
But they weren’t the only ones with that idea. As soon as they reached the heart of the city, they saw them. Dozens of participants, and nearly all of them were locked in battle.
Blades clashed, skills flared, and the scent of blood hung thick in the air.
"We stay together and cover each other’s backs!" Nigel shouted.
"No!" Claire snapped. "We need to split into pairs!"
Nigel turned to her, frowning.
"Are you insane? We’ll get torn apart in seconds!"
"She’s right," Dovak added.
"Shut up, you don’t look like the thinking type," Claire shot back.
Dovak took a step forward, bristling.
"The hell did you just say?"
Nigel quickly placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.
"Not worth wasting energy on this," he muttered. "Let’s focus on not dying and getting those Diamantines."
Claire exhaled sharply. "Fine. Then I’ll go on my own."
She turned, taking a few steps away from the group—then suddenly stopped.
After a moment of hesitation, she turned toward William.
"I still can’t see. Would you be kind enough to help me?"
William stiffened.
His gaze flicked to Nigel, who met his eyes with a hard, unreadable look.
Then—Nigel gave a slight nod.
"Let me know if anything happens," he said.
With that, Claire and William moved off, keeping close but not straying too far from the others.
Dovak scowled, watching them go. "That girl is a—"
Fwip.
A flash of movement.
A single arrow sliced through the air, aimed directly at Dovak’s face.
But before it could land, Nigel’s hand shot out, catching it inches away from his skull.
"Move!" Nigel barked, tossing the arrow aside.
Dovak barely had time to react before they were both sprinting, weaving through the rain of incoming projectiles. Arrows whistled past them, embedding into the crumbling pavement.
Then—thud.
One struck Nigel square in the shoulder.
He barely flinched. His tactic shirt absorbed the impact, reducing it to nothing more than a dull blow. Lucky. Any other armor, and the arrow would have punched straight through.
They didn’t slow. Not until they pinpointed the archer’s location.
And there he was, perched atop a small, half-collapsed building.
The moment the archer spotted them closing in, he dropped down, disappearing behind the structure.
"He’s not alone," Dovak muttered. He skidded to a stop, slamming his palm against the ground. Feeling. Searching.
A second later, his eyes snapped up.
"One’s charging straight at us."
Nigel followed his gaze—just in time to see an old man sprinting toward them at unnatural speed.
His eyes widened. "Shi—"
Too late.
The elderly warrior blurred forward, closing the gap in an instant. Before either of them could react, he swung a massive war maul straight into Dovak’s side.
The impact sent Dovak flying.
His body slammed into the archer’s shelter with bone-crushing force. The building didn’t stand a chance. It collapsed instantly, burying him in a cloud of dust and rubble.
The archer nocked another arrow, drawing his bow to finish Dovak off.
He never got the chance.
Nigel was already there. A single sweep of his scythe severed the archer’s arms. The man barely had time to register his own dismemberment before the blade came down again.
Another clean strike, another body hitting the ground and disintegrating.
