Ragnarök, Eternal Tragedy.
Chapter 78: Amari vs. Elias Vex

Chapter 78: Amari vs. Elias Vex

The stadium erupted, the roar of the crowd shaking the ground as bright lights flashed across the battlefield. The once-ruined arena had been rebuilt to perfection—smooth stone, reinforced barriers, and a fresh battleground ready for war.

Massive screens flickered, and the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FIRST MATCH OF THE ROUND OF 16 IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!"

The crowd lost it, voices clashing in waves of anticipation.

"IN THIS CORNER—A FIGHTER KNOWN FOR HIS BRUTAL EFFICIENCY! A MASTER OF STRATEGY! A WARRIOR WHO NEVER WASTES A MOVE!"

The screen flashed, displaying Elias Vex in bold letters.

"THE COLD. THE CALCULATED. THE RELENTLESS—ELIAS VEX!"

The cheers rolled in, his name chanted like a battle cry.

Elias stepped forward, his expression unreadable, his movements controlled. He barely acknowledged the fans, his focus locked on the battlefield ahead.

Then—the announcer shifted.

"And now—his opponent."

The energy in the stadium changed.

"HE’S FOUGHT THROUGH EVERY CHALLENGE, EVERY OBSTACLE, AND HE’S STILL STANDING!"

The screen flashed again—Amari.

"THE UNPREDICTABLE. THE ADAPTIVE. THE ONE WHO REFUSES TO FALL—AMARI!"

The reaction was instant.

Jeers.

Boos.

Shouts of disapproval.

"He doesn’t belong here!" someone yelled.

"He got lucky!" another sneered.

The crowd rejected him, drowning out the announcer’s attempt to hype him up.

Amari didn’t react.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t acknowledge the hate.

He just stepped forward, his chains resting on his shoulders, his expression unreadable.

But in the VIP section—where the nobles watched from above—one voice did acknowledge him.

A whisper.

Barely audible.

"Amari."

Conrad’s lips curled into a faint smile, his gaze locked on the battlefield.

Hans, seated beside him, noticed. "You’re smiling," he remarked, curiosity flickering in his tone.

Conrad’s amusement faded just enough to play it off. "Just enjoying the match," he said smoothly.

Hans didn’t press further.

And as the nobles settled in, the battlefield came alive.

The announcer’s voice boomed one last time.

"FIGHTERS—READY YOURSELVES!"

The crowd exploded, the energy reaching a fever pitch.

Then—the announcer chuckled, his voice carrying through the stadium speakers.

"OH! Almost forgot to explain the rules!" he joked, earning a wave of laughter from the crowd.

He grinned, playing into the moment before raising his hand. "Alright, listen up! You win by knockout or by forcing your opponent out of the ring!"

The crowd cheered, the simplicity of the rules making the fight even more exciting.

"But!" the announcer continued, his tone shifting slightly. "Nothing should be strong enough to kill your opponent. We’re here for a battle, not a funeral!"

Another round of laughter rippled through the stadium, but the fighters weren’t paying attention anymore.

Amari and Elias stood across from each other, preparing themselves, adjusting their stances, locking eyes.

Then—Elias spoke.

"I have to admit," Elias said, his voice cool, edged with disappointment. "I expected more from this round."

Amari raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Elias exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "I don’t want to be mistaken for being weak just because I’m fighting someone who’s rumored to have no unco."

The crowd murmured, some nodding in agreement, others watching closely for Amari’s reaction.

Amari just laughed.

A short, sharp chuckle, amusement flickering in his expression.

"My fists are enough," Amari said simply, rolling his shoulders, his chains shifting slightly with the movement.

Elias narrowed his eyes, studying him.

Then—the announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium.

"FIGHTERS—READY YOURSELVES!"

The crowd erupted, the energy reaching a fever pitch.

The battle was about to begin.

The announcer grinned, raising his hand high.

"LET THE MATCH BEGIN!"

The bell rang, sharp and final.

The crowd exploded, voices crashing over the stadium as Amari and Elias lunged at the same time.

Amari swung his Kusarigama, the chain snapping forward in a lethal arc, aiming to test Elias’s defenses.

But Elias didn’t dodge.

Didn’t block.

He simply removed the inefficiency.

The moment Amari’s attack should have connected, it didn’t.

The chain passed through empty air—like the strike had never existed in the first place.

Amari’s eyes narrowed. What?

Elias moved.

Fast. Precise.

His fist shot forward, aiming directly for Amari’s ribs.

Amari twisted, instinct kicking in—but it didn’t matter.

Elias had already erased the possibility of a failed strike.

The punch landed, sharp and brutal, knocking Amari back a step.

The crowd cheered, watching Elias’s flawless execution unfold.

Elias didn’t waste time.

He stepped forward, his movements impossibly smooth, impossibly perfect.

Amari swung again—his Kusarigama slicing through the air—but Elias erased the wasted motion, ensuring only the optimal outcome remained.

The chain never reached him.

Amari barely had time to react before Elias struck again—this time aiming for his shoulder.

Amari dodged—or tried to.

Elias erased the hesitation.

The punch connected.

Amari gritted his teeth, rolling with the impact, his mind racing.

He’s not dodging. He’s not blocking. He’s just... removing.

Every attack Elias made was absolute.

Every movement was perfectly efficient.

There was no wasted energy, no unnecessary action—just cold, calculated destruction.

Amari exhaled sharply, shaking off the pain.

He had to change tactics.

If Elias could erase inefficiencies, then Amari had to make his movements unpredictable.

He shifted his stance, loosening his grip on his Kusarigama, letting the chain move more fluidly.

Then—he attacked.

Not with precision.

Not with control.

But with chaos.

His Kusarigama whipped through the air in erratic, unpredictable arcs, forcing Elias to react instead of preemptively erasing the outcome.

For the first time—Elias hesitated.

Amari saw it.

A fraction of a second.

A moment where Elias had to think before removing the unnecessary.

And Amari exploited it.

He twisted mid-motion, shifting his Kusarigama at the last second, catching Elias off guard.

The chain wrapped around Elias’s wrist.

The crowd gasped.

Amari yanked, pulling Elias forward, throwing off his balance.

Elias’s eyes flickered with something sharp—annoyance.

He erased the mistake.

The chain unraveled, slipping free like it had never been there.

Amari barely had time to react before Elias countered, his fist snapping forward.

Amari dodged—but not fast enough.

The punch connected, sending Amari skidding back.

The crowd was on fire, watching the clash unfold.

Elias was dominant, his Void Arbitration making every move impossibly efficient.

But Amari was adapting, shifting his style, forcing Elias to react instead of simply erasing outcomes.

Strike. Counter. Dodge. Retaliate.

They moved like opposing forces—precision vs. unpredictability.

And in the VIP section—Conrad watched, his smile widening.

Hans glanced at him. "You’re smiling again."

Conrad didn’t answer.

He just watched.

He knew Amari wasn’t supposed to win.

But he wasn’t supposed to lose, either.

And that made him dangerous.