The Arena

The arena's twilight sky cast a surreal glow over the battlefield. The sands of the coliseum shimmered faintly, scattered with jagged shadows from the towering stone walls. At the center stood two figures as different as night and day.

On one side was the Crimson Reaver.

He towered over most, his muscular frame exuding an aura of confidence and danger. His wild crimson hair matched the intensity of his glowing red eyes, which burned with unyielding arrogance. A jagged scythe rested easily in his grip, its blade pulsing with crimson mana that flickered like fire. His leather armor, though scuffed and streaked with battle stains, only added to his feral, menacing appearance.

Across from him stood his opponent, The Spectator.

Shrouded in seamless black fabric, the figure seemed almost ethereal in contrast. The mask that obscured his face was plain, featureless, and eerily smooth, yet it carried an unsettling weight. Only his eyes shone through icy blue orbs that glowed faintly against the dark void of his form. In his right hand, he held a wakizashi, its short blade reflecting the dim light. In his left was something far more peculiar: a black book that seemed to swallow the surrounding light, exuding an ominous presence.

Kai pov

Perfect time to see just what a divine artifact can do.

I gripped the wakizashi tighter, keeping the Book of the End in my left hand and readied myself.

[Combat Commencing in 3… 2… 1…]

The moment the countdown ended, Crimson Reaver exploded into action. His scythe carving through the air in a deadly arc coming straight for my head.

Instinct kicked in.

I sidestepped, the blade missing my torso by inches. The force of his swing kicked up sand, the grains stinging against my exposed eyes.

"Quick on your feet, huh?" Crimson Reaver taunted, spinning his scythe with a flourish. "Good. That'll make breaking you more satisfying."

I gripped the wakizashi tighter, keeping the Book of the End in my left hand. My heart raced, but a strange calm threaded through my nerves.

Then it happened.

A faint whisper echoed in my mind, not my own.

"Step left."

I didn't question it. My body moved a split second before Crimson Reaver's scythe came down again, cleaving the air where I had just been standing.

He frowned. "Lucky guess."

"Two steps back."

I obeyed, retreating as his weapon swung horizontally, the jagged blade carving through the space between us.

It wasn't luck. The Book… it was telling me what would happen next.

Seems like a pretty useful ability almost like I can read the future.

But I doubt that's all this is a divine artifact after all I wonder what else it can do.

"High arc, aimed at your head block it."

I raised the wakizashi, the prediction coming true as his scythe arced downward. The clash sent vibrations up my arm, but I held firm.

Crimson Reaver's grin faltered.

"How can u see?"

"Alright," he muttered, stepping back and twirling his scythe. "You're not just a novice. What's with the book, huh? Some kind of guide for cowards?"

I didn't answer.

"Diagonal swing, left to right."

The Book's voice rang clear again. I ducked just as the scythe whooshed over my head, its crimson energy humming ominously.

"Answer me, damn it!" Crimson Reaver roared, his frustration bubbling over. He unleashed a flurry of attacks, his movements wild yet precise. Each strike was met with a dodge, a parry, or a counter, guided by the Book's foresight.

But something else was happening.

The whispers grew louder, more frequent. Not just about his attacks they hinted at opportunities.

"His left leg is exposed. Strike now."

I lunged, the wakizashi slicing across his thigh. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to make him stagger.

He cursed, his crimson eyes blazing with fury.

"Mana is surging. He's preparing a ranged attack. Close the distance."

Without hesitation, I darted forward. The Reaver raised his free hand, a sphere of blood-red energy forming in his palm.

Too slow.

The wakizashi slashed upward, forcing him to abandon the spell and block with his scythe. Sparks flew as our weapons clashed, the energy between us crackling.

For the first time, I saw uncertainty in his eyes.

"What… are you?" he growled, pushing me back with sheer strength.

"He's going to taunt. Use the opening."

"Using a book to fight?" he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Pathetic. You're nothing but a ..."

I surged forward, the wakizashi slicing through his words. He barely managed to dodge, the blade nicking his shoulder.

The crowd if there was one would have been silent. I could feel the weight of his anger growing with every move he missed, every attack he failed to land.

"This isn't over," he snarled, his crimson mana flaring. The sand beneath him darkened, soaked by the aura of his element.

"He's switching tactics. Stay sharp."

The Book's warning was clear, but it didn't prepare me for what came next.

Crimson Reaver slammed his scythe into the ground, the crimson energy surging outward in jagged tendrils. The arena quaked as the blood-red energy snaked toward me, carving through the sand.

"Jump!"

I obeyed, leaping into the air as the spikes of blood converged where I had stood.

Mid-air, the Book whispered again.

"You can't dodge forever. Strike his core."

Core?

I landed, rolling to avoid another tendril. The Reaver's attacks were relentless, his mana fueling the chaotic landscape.

"Strike his chest. That's where the mana converges."

"Got it," I muttered under my breath.

Closing the distance wasn't going to be easy. Crimson Reaver's tendrils lashed out wildly, forcing me to weave through the chaos. Every step was calculated, guided by the Book's whispers.

Finally, I saw an opening.

He overextended, his scythe burying itself in the ground for a split second.

"Now!"

I darted forward, the wakizashi aimed for his chest.

But as I closed the gap, something changed.

I was too slow.

The opportunity was clear, but my body wasn't fast enough. The scythe swung upward, catching my shoulder before I could close the gap.

Pain erupted as I was thrown backward, hitting the ground hard. The wakizashi slipped from my grip, skittering across the sand.

The whispers in my mind softened, almost reprimanding.

"Knowing the future is useless if you are unable to act on it."

"Is this all you've got?" Crimson Reaver laughed in arrogance as if he wasn't on the ropes until a few seconds ago.

I staggered to my feet, clutching my injured shoulder. The Book hummed faintly in my hand, its presence a steady reminder.

"You're not done," the voice whispered. "Focus. Every second counts."

I gritted my teeth, reaching for the wakizashi.

The fight was far from over.