The stadium was engulfed in stunned silence, the cheers dying down as everyone processed what had just transpired. Rynhara, battered and bloodied, knelt on the edge of the arena, her katana glinting faintly with residual stardust. Lyra lay unconscious in the center of the crater, defeated but undeniably a formidable opponent.
Just as murmurs began to ripple through the crowd, a voice like thunder and melody echoed through the heavens.
"The heavens rejoice, the stars shine, the crowd roars, and the earth trembles."
The air grew heavy, everyone pausing in collective awe as the voice continued.
"Individual Rynhara has awakened the Final Demolition Strike: Shooting Star X Slash."
A wave of golden light swept across the arena, as if the world itself was affirming the declaration. The crowd erupted, their shock giving way to a cacophony of cheers and gasps.
"What did we just witness?!" Fira cried out, gripping her headset as if it could stabilize her.
Drollas adjusted his glasses, which had somehow fogged up despite the intensity of the moment. "I… I'm at a loss for words. This isn't just history being made—this is legend unfolding before our eyes!"
Rynhara tried to stand, her body screaming in protest. The dark aura from earlier had vanished, but it left behind a profound exhaustion that weighed her down.
The commentators were relentless.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Drollas began, his voice quivering with excitement, "we've just seen the emergence of a prodigy! Rynhara isn't just a fighter—she's a force of nature!"
Fira, unable to contain herself, added, "Forget prodigy—she's a goddess with a blade! That Shooting Star X Slash wasn't just a move—it was art! It was poetry! It was—"
"—a holiday ham carved to perfection," Drollas interrupted with a chuckle, earning a glare from Fira.
The crowd laughed despite themselves, the tension beginning to ease as they absorbed the spectacle.
Before anyone could rush to Rynhara's aid, a regal figure descended from the royal box.
Tiamora, the fearsome Empress of Shadows, stepped gracefully onto the battlefield. The crowd gasped, their whispers growing louder with each passing second.
"She's coming down?!"
"Why would she—"
"Is she about to punish someone?!"
Her reputation as a cunning and ruthless ruler preceded her, and many assumed her presence would bring chaos. Instead, Tiamora ignored the audience completely, walking straight toward her daughter.
"Rynhara," Tiamora said softly, crouching beside her, her tone betraying a rare tenderness. "You've done well. Let me help you."
Rynhara tried to speak, but the effort of the battle left her words as little more than a whisper.
The crowd was stunned into silence.
"Is she… caring for her?" someone whispered.
Fira, equally flabbergasted, leaned closer to her mic. "Am I seeing this right? The Tiamora, showing… motherly affection?!"
Drollas shook his head, his voice trembling. "I never thought I'd see the day."
Tiamora, ignoring the murmurs and commentary, placed a hand on Rynhara's shoulder, enveloping her in a soft shadowy cocoon that seemed to numb her pain. She helped her to her feet, steadying her as they slowly walked toward the medical ward.
As they passed the audience, people began to bow their heads—some in fear, others in newfound respect.
"Is this the same Tiamora who razed cities for sport?"
"Maybe she's not as evil as we thought…"
"Don't let her hear you say that, or you'll end up as shadow dust."
Despite the hushed whispers, one thing was clear: the relationship between Tiamora and her daughter had just added another layer to the legend of Rynhara.
Inside the medical ward, Rynhara slumped into a chair, her exhaustion catching up with her. Despite the pain, a faint smile tugged at her lips.
"Did… did I win?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
Tiamora smirked, placing a hand on her cheek. "You didn't just win, my dear. You conquered all that your adverserys sent your way."
In the distance, the commentators' voices could still be heard through the stadium's speakers.
"And with that, Rynhara has solidified herself as the queen of this year's tournament!"
"I can't wait to see what she does next," Fira added. "She's destined for greatness."
Tiamora chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Rynhara's face. "Destined for greatness, indeed. But for now, rest. The world will still be there tomorrow to bow before you."
Rynhara, despite her pride, allowed her eyes to close. The faint cheers of the crowd served as a lullaby, and for the first time in weeks, she felt at peace.
To Be Continued...