The Duel’s Final Clash

The sound of clashing steel echoed through the arena as Yokudo and Callum continued their fierce battle. Every strike was met with a counter, every movement calculated. The crowd watched in awe—this wasn't just a fight; it was a clash of swordsmen at their peak.

Callum's sword still glowed faintly with energy, his movements precise and relentless. Yokudo, however, had fully adapted to Callum's speed. His counterattacks grew sharper, his reflexes quicker.

Then, Yokudo made his move.

He shifted his stance slightly, luring Callum into attacking. The moment Callum lunged forward, Yokudo sidestepped with perfect timing, bringing his sword down in a swift arc.

Slash!

Callum's sword flew from his hands, landing with a metallic clang on the ground.

A moment of silence.

Then, the crowd erupted in cheers—Yokudo had won.

"Incredible! Yokudo has disarmed Callum Graves! The fight is over!" the announcer shouted.

Yokudo exhaled, lowering his sword. He had done it. He had proven himself.

But just as he turned to leave—

"That was impressive," Callum's voice rang out.

Yokudo barely had time to react before Callum grabbed his sword from the ground in a single motion and slashed.

A sharp pain shot through Yokudo's body as he stumbled backward. A deep cut ran across his side—Callum had struck after the fight was over.

The crowd gasped.

Yokudo fell to his knees, gripping his wound. He tried to stand, but his body wouldn't listen. His victory had been stolen in an instant.

Callum stood over him, twirling his sword before sheathing it. He glanced up at the noble family's balcony—where the most powerful figures of A1 City sat, watching.

Then, he smirked.

"You did well," he said casually. "But did you really think someone like you could defeat me?"

Yokudo's eyes widened. "What…?"

Callum turned slightly, the sunlight catching his crest-embroidered cloak.

And in that moment, the truth was revealed.

Callum Graves wasn't just any competitor—he was a member of the noble family.