The Duel of Fire and Pride

Chapter 12: The Duel of Fire and Pride

Dust filled the battlefield as both fighters gasped for breath.

Captain Elara, her uniform scorched and torn in places, stood firm—flames dancing on one hand, wind gathering in the other.

Across from her, Leon, his lancer crackling with mana, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, stared at her with wild determination.

"You've gotten stronger, Leon," Elara muttered between breaths. "Much stronger than before."

Leon grinned, pushing a lock of sweat-soaked hair from his eyes.

"This power... it's thanks to my leader."

Elara blinked. "Your leader?"

Her tone was calm—but suspicious.

"You're not the leader?"

Leon suddenly roared, chest heaving. "It's my pride—my HONOR—to act as the fake leader! To protect his identity!"

The madness in his voice made Elara narrow her eyes.

"…You're insane," she whispered.

Leon's grin twisted wider. His lancer lit up with a violent surge of mana.

"And you're still too noble, Elara! Don't you think it's time we ended this?"

Without waiting for a reply, Leon charged—his lancer glowing red as it carved through the air.

Elara gritted her teeth and summoned her strength. The ground beneath her erupted with stone, a wall rising to block the attack—shattering instantly as Leon broke through.

"Water Jet!"

Elara flicked her hand, and a blade of pressurized water shot toward Leon. He parried it mid-charge, still coming.

"Fire Barrage!"

Flames burst in rapid blasts from her palms.

Leon spun, weaving through the explosions, heat licking at his skin.

"Wind Slash!"

A crescent of wind shot forward.

Leon growled and thrust with his full strength—his lancer cutting through the spell with raw momentum.

The two clashed—Elara's arm engulfed in lightning, Leon's weapon humming with unholy force.

Sparks. Light. A boom of mana explosion shook the area.

Both were flung back—skidding across the dirt, barely able to stand.

Elara coughed, blood at the edge of her lips. Leon staggered but stood tall, laughing between gasps.

"I'm not the same weakling who begged for your attention back in the academy, Elara!"

She raised her head slowly, her eyes steady.

"And I'm not the same girl you used for a bet."

Leon paused—his manic grin fading, just slightly.

"I became a Captain because I learned to never let people like you break me again," she said coldly.

Their eyes locked. For a heartbeat, all sound disappeared.

Then—

"Let's finish this."

They rushed at each other again. Magic and steel collided. Sparks lit up the night.

Their final clash echoed like thunder across the battlefield.

Elara, bruised and bloodied, summoned the last reserves of her mana. Flames swirled with lightning, wind laced with stone, water condensed into spears—all five elements surged around her.

Leon—Pride—grinned manically, charging with his black-gold lancer, thrusting again and again with unnatural speed and fury.

BAM!

A fire spear grazed his arm.

CRACK!

A lightning bolt struck his leg.

BOOM!

A wind-enhanced uppercut sent him flying into the air—and he hit the ground hard.

Elara stood over him, panting, steam rising from her body.

Leon coughed blood, eyes still defiantly locked on hers. His lips curled into a tired smirk.

"Why… are you still better than me?" he muttered, voice breaking.

Elara didn't answer. Her eyes reflected both pity and resolve.

Elara raised her palm, the five elements swirling faintly in her grip—ready to strike again if needed.

But Leon didn't move.

Leon let out one last bitter breath—and collapsed, finally unconscious.

As he lay motionless, the battlefield went silent for a moment.

The other Sins, watching from the battlefield, grew tense. Seeing Pride defeated changed everything.

Suddenly, Envy, Greed, Lust, and Gluttony began retreating one by one. Sloth (Kuro) remained asleep somewhere deeper near the dungeon. Only Wrath—Shaw—refused to yield, transforming into a monstrous form and roaring into the sky.

Elara exhaled shakily, then turned her gaze to the battlefield. She saw it:

The rest of the Sins, scattered and watching from various high points, had gone quiet.

Greed, Envy, Lust and Gluttony began to retreat—one by one, vanishing into the shadows, whispering among themselves.

"He really lost… to her?" muttered Envy, frowning.

"She's too drained to fight us all," said Lust. "But…"

Gluttony licked his lips and started to move—until Wrath stomped past him, ignoring everyone.

Wrath—known to most as Shaw, the quietest of the group—was now different.

His body bulked up massively, his veins glowing red. Muscles erupted unnaturally, his shirt shredded by the transformation. His face distorted with fury. His very breath shook the air.

"Here we go again…" muttered Greed, stepping back.

Wrath let out a deep, bone-rattling growl.

"RRRAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

With a roar, Shaw punched through a wall, sending rubble flying in all directions. The ground cracked under his step. One of the retreating B-rank adventurers tried to stop him—only to be sent flying across the field with a single blow.

Captain Elara turned sharply, eyes widening.

"…That's not just strength. That's pure rage incarnate."

From afar, Ursa shouted, "Captain! He's coming—he's heading straight for you!!"