Ren's frustration spiked. He activated Event Horizon, his fists coated in warped gravitational distortions that bent the very air around them. A single direct hit would be devastating, but it was all or nothing now.
His fists blurred, striking in a rapid barrage, but my sword danced between them.
One miss.
Two.
Three.
Then, the moment he needed to adjust his footwork—I struck.
A horizontal slash—clean, decisive, and absolute.
Ren's body staggered, his vision finally betraying him. His eyes twitched, his breath caught, and his knees buckled. The glow of God's Eyes flickered once—twice—before fading entirely.
I stood over him, my sword poised, the match already decided.
Silence fell over the stadium.
Ren's fists clenched, his jaw tightening as he let out a slow, frustrated breath. Then, he did the only thing left to do.
He raised his hand.
"I yield."
The declaration rang out like a bell, echoing across the stunned arena.
