Chapter 442: The Birth of a Legend

The underground arena fell into complete silence.

Not a whisper.

Not a cheer.

Not even the gamblers dared to speak.

All eyes were fixed upon the two figures standing amidst the shattered battlefield.

The Crimson King stood firm, his sword lowered but ready, his breathing calm despite the intensity of the duel.

Several meters away, Black Raven struggled to remain upright.

Her cloak had been reduced to torn strips of black cloth.

Dust and blood stained her clothes.

Cuts marked her arms and shoulders.

One side of her face beneath the mask bore a crimson trail where blood had trickled down from a shallow wound.

Her breathing was heavy.

Every heartbeat sent pain through her battered body.

Yet...

She still stood.

The Crimson King regarded her with quiet respect.

"You’ve reached your limit."

Luna tightened her grip on her sword.

"...Not yet."

"You’ve already surpassed everyone’s expectations."

"I’m not fighting for their expectations."

"Then why?"

A faint smile appeared beneath her mask.

"For someone who believed I could become stronger."

Far from the arena...

Orpheus paused in the middle of a deserted alley.

For reasons he could not explain, he glanced toward the southern district.

A faint smile crossed his face.

"...You’re still fighting."

Then he continued on his own mission.

Back in the arena...

The Crimson King slowly nodded.

"I understand."

He raised his blade once more.

"In that case..."

"Come."

The instant his words ended...

Both disappeared.

The explosion of their collision shook the arena.

BOOOOM!

The enchanted barrier surrounding the battlefield shimmered violently.

Stone fragments blasted into the air.

Their swords became flashes of silver and crimson.

No one could follow them.

Only the continuous ringing of steel revealed where they were.

Clang!

A shower of sparks erupted.

Luna twisted beneath a slash that would have struck her shoulder.

She answered with a rising cut.

The King deflected.

He spun.

She ducked.

Another exchange.

Another.

Again.

Again.

Each movement pushed them further beyond their limits.

The audience erupted once more.

"They’re getting faster!"

"I can’t see them anymore!"

"Is that really the same girl who entered two days ago?"

Even the veteran champions Luna had defeated watched with astonishment.

Drakhar folded his arms.

"...She’s changed."

The elderly battle mage beside him nodded.

"She isn’t merely reacting anymore."

"...She’s adapting."

Luna’s world narrowed.

The cheers disappeared.

The arena disappeared.

Only one opponent remained.

Only one sword.

Every lesson.

Every correction.

Every defeat during training.

Every spar beneath the crimson sky.

Every word Orpheus had spoken echoed within her.

"Strength without discipline crumbles."

"Don’t overpower your enemy."

"Guide their strength away."

"Read the intent."

"Trust yourself."

The Crimson King attacked.

A perfectly timed thrust.

Luna sidestepped.

Barely.

His blade sliced across her sleeve instead of piercing her shoulder.

She countered.

He blocked.

The impact numbed both their arms.

He smiled.

"So you’ve reached this point."

Again.

Steel flashed.

The battlefield crumbled further beneath their feet.

Deep cracks spread in every direction.

The magical barrier groaned under the relentless pressure.

High above...

Even the nobles rose from their seats.

One elderly duke whispered,

"...I’ve never seen the King pushed this far."

Minutes passed.

Neither could gain the advantage.

Sweat dripped from their brows.

Blood marked their footsteps.

Both breathed heavily now.

The Crimson King’s cloak had been cut in several places.

His armor bore fresh scratches.

Luna’s injuries had worsened.

Blood soaked one sleeve.

Another wound had opened along her side.

Every breath hurt.

Still...

She smiled.

The King noticed.

"...You’re enjoying this."

She laughed softly.

"I am."

"So am I."

For the first time in many years...

The undefeated champion laughed in the middle of battle.

A genuine laugh.

"This..."

"...is the finest duel of my life."

He inhaled deeply.

His aura expanded.

Not wildly.

Perfectly controlled.

The entire arena trembled.

Luna recognized the stance.

His final technique.

Everything would end with this exchange.

She slowly lowered her sword.

Relaxed her shoulders.

Closed her eyes.

The audience gasped.

"What is she doing?!"

"She’s giving up!"

"No..."

Drakhar narrowed his eye.

"...She’s listening."

The wind moved.

She felt it.

The shifting pressure.

The King’s breathing.

His heartbeat.

The intent behind his sword.

Not with her eyes...

But with instinct.

The same lesson Orpheus had drilled into her countless times.

The Crimson King moved.

Like crimson lightning.

His fastest strike.

His strongest.

A technique that had ended countless championship matches.

Luna moved simultaneously.

Not faster.

Not stronger.

Just...

Perfectly timed.

Their swords met.

The sound rang across the entire arena.

A single clear note.

Instead of resisting...

She redirected.

The King’s momentum carried him a fraction farther than intended.

A single opening appeared.

Tiny.

Almost invisible.

Enough.

Her body reacted before conscious thought.

One step.

One turn.

One strike.

The flat of her blade slipped past his guard and stopped against his chest.

Silence.

The Crimson King’s sword rested beside her neck.

Her blade rested over his heart.

For one endless heartbeat...

Neither moved.

Then...

The King’s sword slowly lowered.

He looked at the blade against his chest.

Then at the young swordswoman before him.

A warm smile spread across his face.

"...Beautiful."

He took one step back.

Raised his free hand.

"I concede."

Silence remained.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

The referee stared in disbelief.

His mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

Finally...

He raised Luna’s arm.

His voice cracked from excitement.

"THE WINNER..."

"...BLACK RAVEN!!"

The arena exploded.

The roar was deafening.

Thousands leapt to their feet.

The entire underground coliseum shook beneath the thunderous applause.

"BLACK RAVEN!"

"BLACK RAVEN!"

"BLACK RAVEN!"

The chant became a storm.

Some spectators laughed.

Others cried.

Veteran warriors applauded.

Even defeated opponents smiled proudly.

A new champion had been crowned.

Luna stood motionless.

Her sword slipped from her fingers, striking the broken stone with a metallic ring.

Only now did the adrenaline fade.

Pain surged through her body all at once.

Blood flowed from countless shallow wounds, staining her clothes crimson.

She remained standing by sheer determination.

The Crimson King approached.

Instead of anger...

He bowed deeply.

A warrior’s bow.

"I have defended this title for many years."

He looked into her masked eyes.

"Today..."

"...it belongs to someone worthy."

Luna returned the bow with equal respect.

"It was an honor."

He smiled.

"The honor was mine."

The old arena master entered the battlefield carrying an ornate case.

Inside rested a black championship cloak embroidered with crimson thread and a silver raven worked into the fabric.

He draped it over Luna’s shoulders.

Then he raised her arm once more.

"Behold!"

"The new Queen of the Underground Arena!"

The crowd erupted again.

Coins, flowers, and ribbons showered onto the arena floor.

The chant echoed through every tunnel beneath the city.

"BLACK RAVEN!"

"BLACK RAVEN!"

"BLACK RAVEN!"

Standing amid shattered stone, wearing a cloak dark as midnight and stained with the blood earned through ten relentless battles, Luna seemed less like a lone swordswoman and more like a symbol.

Not of invincibility.

But of perseverance.

That night, stories spread beyond the underground district.

They crossed taverns.

Markets.

Guild halls.

Noble estates.

By dawn, the entire demon city knew the tale.

A mysterious masked outsider had entered the arena.

She had defeated ten of its finest warriors.

She had ended the reign of an undefeated champion.

No one knew her real name.

No one knew where she had come from.

But everyone remembered the title she had earned.

Black Raven.

And so, beneath the crimson skies of the demon realm, a new legend took flight.