Return Of The Strongest Player

With a flick of her wrists, mana boiled with the heat of the property of fire. Her fists burnt with determination, emanating flames that could burn the courtyard of Heaven. Her gaze remained on her foe.

"It's been a while, Greg," Luc spoke lightheartedly, her tone gentle. Her words and demeanor contradicted the terrifying power oozing from her body at that moment. More importantly, it was as if Gregory was unperturbed by Luc's power.

"Truly," replied Greg, lowering his sword. "The last time we met was when we both snuck out of our villages, correct?"

Luc nodded fervently, as if excited that Greg remembered. The two were former lovers, and in their youth, snuck out at night to meet each other. It was truly a pity that they were meeting on a battlefield, on opposing terms.

However, instead of sympathizing, Arthur smiled. Others were unbeknownst to it, but he and a few stronger people could sense the fluctuations in mana. Both Luc and Greg seemed to be reminiscing about their past…

But neither of them had yet to make a move.

"Those were the days," said Greg, locking eyes with Luc, who nodded in response. The two remained still for a few seconds. The spectators were confused, wondering why the battle hadn't begun yet.

"Yes…"

"Remember when we stared at the moonlight a few years ago. You and I snuggled on a bench, watching the constellations."

"It's a pity…" Luc muttered, smiling. However, her eyes contained a deep emotion that directly contradicted her expression. Suddenly, a single tear escaped her left eye, streaming down her cheek.

"Truly," said Greg. He shook his head. The same smile that hung on Luc's face was plastered on Greg, as if the two had planned it previously. He glanced at the bright sky, wondering what had gone wrong.

"Die."

"Die."

The two spoke simultaneously, their voices intertwining like a web of lies. The emotions present in their eyes raged on. Greg and Luc remained still, but rapid changes occurred around them. Gusts of wind and an inferno of flames shot towards each other.

From the most inseparable of friends to mortal enemies…

From those who promised never to lay a finger on each other to those who didn't think twice between unleashing a devastating attack…

What had gone wrong?

Was it the influence of their villages? The greed at the possibility of becoming the heads of their respective villages? 

Greg rushed forward, raising his sword against someone whom he swore to protect. Luc conjured a pillar of flames, hurling it towards someone whom she swore to love eternally. A searing pain assaulted both of them.

Yet, burdened with the responsibilities and expectations of their respective villages, they were forced to separate, abandoning the love that they swore burnt eternally. One of them would lose, while the other would ascend.

They were forced to use the other as a stepping stone.

"Ablaze," Luc muttered, extending her arm. Her palm emanated a white light, dying her surroundings in blinding light. Then, the crackle of sparks caused the tumultuous crowd to turn silent.

Luc's eyes glowed a bright, crimson shade, yet it failed to mask her true emotions. However, she buried them beneath the bloodlust she was forced to conjure. Her foot slid back, leaving behind a trail of fire.

Suddenly, her body burst into flames as they swirled around, creating a hurricane. The hurricane launched embers of fire in all directions.

"Launch," Luc demanded, watching stoically as a majority of her mana was sucked in an instant, transformed into the property of fire. The pillar/hurricane of pure fire shot towards its foe… Yes, its foe.

However, at that moment, Greg was not a sitting duck.

Wind danced along the blade of his sword, creating what could only be described as "vibrations" along the metal. An emerald aura arose from his body, and a hurricane similar to that of Luc's formed around his body.

The swirling wind didn't seem to affect him, but could rip another's body to shreds.

He infused his calf muscles with mana, propelling himself forward while traveling at terrifying speeds towards the pillar of flames. Without hesitation, he charged into the pillar, disappearing inside the blazing flames.

The crowd turned silent, unable to comprehend what Greg had done.

Had he sacrificed his own life?

However, at that moment, his sword burst from the pillar of flames, ripping asunder the cinders trapped within the fire. The emerald aura was suddenly strengthened, and Greg immediately rushed towards Luc.

Bloodlust dripped from his movements, and each strike was laced with emotion. 

Luc's barrage of attacks weakened, and tears streamed down her cheeks. However, she still persisted, obstructing Greg from reaching her. The latter was well-versed in close-combat, but she wasn't.

For a mage, distance was most important.

Without distance, it was difficult to cast spells, as they required at least a few seconds to cast. Moreover, many spells were devastating, and could make a mage lose their footing during battle.

Close-combat fighters were well-versed in maintaining their cool and shifting their center of balance when needed. Mages weren't trained in that sort of thing, and were not immune to changes beneath their feet.

"Do you really want the position so badly?" Greg asked, desperately rushing forward, ripping asunder all attacks he faced. The wind on his blade was destructive, and could easily pierce even the strongest of Luc's attacks.

Luc gritted her teeth, condemning Greg for his dense personality.

The former was struggling to contain her emotions. She wished nothing more than to wrap Greg in her embrace, but those days were long gone. Now, they were strangers.. Strangers who shared a past long ago.

Greg gritted his teeth at Luc's wordless answer. Had they drifted that far away from each other? 

The battle reached its climax, and Greg–at last–stood only a few feet away from Luc, whose eyes were wide and tearful.

"If you want it so bad… have it."

Greg smiled, walking slowly towards his former lover. Luc shook her head violently, as if denying his words.

"Fulfill your village's hope. Become its rising star."

"No…"

"I do not need such worthless fame if it means having to defeat you."

"No… don't…"

"Defeat me, and claim victory."

Greg handed Luc his sword, smiling gently.

"Please…"

"Do it, Luc."

Stab!

The tip of Greg's straight sword pierced his abdomen. Blood gushed from the wound, dying both Luc and Greg's hands in a viscous, crimson liquid that seemed to be endless. Greg extended his arm.

He caressed Luc's cheek, wiping away her tears.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes lost their luster.