[EDIT: Sorry for the week without chapters: October 28 is my sister’s birthday, October 31 is Halloween, and my younger brothers’ school has a party, so I had to go. November 2 is my cousin’s birthday, and November 3 is my birthday, so it’s a bit hectic this time of year… Anyway, here’s the chapter!]

It was supposed to be a much quicker fight in this chapter, but I ended up getting carried away…

That said, if you want to read 3/7 chapters ahead, that’s possible on my (P)(A)(T). If not, I still appreciate you reading! Thank you so much!

Have a good night and enjoy your reading!

[…]—[…]

POV: Ruby Rose

It had been a few minutes since we got the news that the final would be a one-on-one fight. We had discussed a few things and had been silent since then.

Yang broke the silence.

“So… did your parents sleep well last night?” She poked Blake’s side with her finger.

“I think so. When I talked to them this morning, they were fine. Why?” Blake tilted her ears toward her, under the bow, without turning her head, answering before asking.

Yang didn’t respond and kept asking questions. “They didn’t have any nightmares? When you saw them, they weren’t looking at their own shadows like they were Grimms or something?”

“What? No!” Blake turned to her, narrowing her eyes. “What kind of questions are these?!”

“It’s because of yesterday,” I said without taking my eyes off Crescent Rose. I had been polishing the blade for a while. It wasn’t necessary, but it helped calm me down.

“Yesterday? What about… Oh…” Blake imitated Weiss and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Finally realized it?” Yang chuckled softly. It was a somewhat tense laugh, not because of Blake’s parents’ situation, but because of ours. “After all, it’s not every day we talk to Devas—”

“We’ve literally been doing that every day for almost three weeks,” Weiss interrupted her, pointing from my right side.

“True,” Yang agreed. “But when we talk to him, his eyes aren’t orange. And he doesn’t threaten us just by looking.”

“He didn’t threaten my parents!” Blake retorted. Yang, Weiss, and I all turned to her, each raising a single eyebrow. Blake shifted in her seat. “I mean… he was threatening Sienna Khan and Adam, using my parents as a means.”

“… Fair enough.” Yang shrugged and changed the subject, nudging Blake this time with her elbow. “So, your mom was kind of interrogating Devas yesterday… Is there something you’d like to share? Care to tell us about the mother-daughter talk you had?”

Blake shoved her arm. “Don’t start, it’s bad enough my mother—” She covered her mouth with her hand, but it was too late.

“Aha! So there was a conversation!” Yang’s eyes practically sparkled. “I knew you were gone too long this morning!”

Blake groaned and didn’t respond. Yang kept pressing her. I sighed in my seat as I partially tuned out their conversation. I knew why Yang was doing this, of course, beyond just her usual urge to tease Blake. She was trying to lighten the mood and make me less tense, without being too obvious about it, but it wasn’t having much of an effect.

I appreciated the effort, but it didn’t change the fact that I would still have to fight alone against someone from team CFVY, watched by all of Remnant…

“… I think I’m going to throw up,” I murmured, more to occupy my mouth and avoid actually throwing up than for any other reason. Weiss rubbed circles on my back. I closed my eyes; my vision was spinning.

“Take a deep breath. Slowly, don’t overthink it, just breathe and focus on my voice.” I heard Yang’s voice coming from somewhere. My left side, probably, since she wouldn’t risk me throwing up on her shoes. Jaune had already done that once, and one time was all she could tolerate.

I stopped polishing Crescent Rose and did as my sister instructed. I inhaled through my nose instinctively, following her instructions and the book Devas gave us on breathing. I didn’t hold my breath for more than a second before exhaling.

I did this a few more times before feeling like I wouldn’t lose my breakfast.

“Water, please,” I requested, opening my eyes. There was a bucket in front of me, probably placed there by Blake, since Yang’s voice hadn’t moved away, and Weiss was still rubbing my back.

Weiss handed me her water bottle, already uncapped. I didn’t drink much, just enough to wash away the bitter, acidic taste from the back of my throat, before handing it back to her.

“Thanks.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the Purification Powder… It sounds like I’m offering you drugs when I say it like that.” Yang grunted, her face scrunched up. I let out a small chuckle.

“No, that wouldn’t be fair at all.” I shook my head. It wasn’t exactly doping, but it still wouldn’t be fair either way.

“No one would ever find out, like, ever.” Weiss commented before coughing into her hand. “…Not that I’m supporting the idea.”

“I am,” Yang said.

“Me too,” Blake added quickly, before pointing out. “Devas would totally support it.”

“He would.” I didn’t deny it.

He already thinks it’s foolish that we’ve chosen not to enchant our weapons, opting to do so only after the Vytal Festival ends. My refusal to use the Purification Powder would probably only make him sigh in frustration and resignation.

He would probably also give that look of ‘I understand why, but I don’t agree at all.’

It might sound oddly specific, but I’ve seen that look many times since I met him, not just in person, but also in the streams. Devas didn’t care about “competition” at all.

He understood why we wanted it, of course—or at least I thought he did—just as he understood why enchanting our weapons would undermine that. But even though he had agreed, he still didn’t care one bit.

He simply didn’t care about the Vytal Festival. I could see it in his eyes; to him, it was just a waste of time.

… Honestly, that made me a little sad. He never relaxed…

“Ruby, you know you can still change your mind, right?” Yang’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “We still have a few minutes before we confirm who’s competing. It doesn’t have to be you.”

Weiss and Blake silently agreed with a nod.

“We’ve already talked about this, Yang.” I sighed and went back to polishing Crescent Rose’s blade. “I’m our best bet against Velvet.”

I could see Yang biting the inside of her cheek out of the corner of my eye. “I could totally beat her.”

“That’s a stretch,” Weiss disagreed. Yang glared at her. “Don’t look at me like that, you know exactly why you couldn’t. Scarlatina is your counter.”

“She’s basically everyone’s counter,” Blake pointed out.

“But it’s worse for Yang,” Weiss retorted. Blake nodded in agreement. “Yang’s perfect for fighting Alistair and Daichi, but Adel is a bad match, and Scarlatina is the worst.”

Yang practically deflated at Weiss’s words. “Damn bunny and her Semblance bullshit…” she muttered.

We’d already had a similar conversation before. We discussed who had the best chances against who, which matchups were in our favor.

Yang was a great pick for fighting Fox and Yatsuhashi, but a bad choice against Coco and terrible against Velvet. Melee wasn’t the issue, but mid to long range was.

Blake was a good choice against Coco, but weak against Yatsuhashi and Fox, and a terrible pick against Velvet. She could hold her own at a distance thanks to her clones, but in a close-quarters, aggressive fight, she’d lose.

Weiss was almost the same as Yang: good against Fox and Yatsuhashi, bad against Coco, and terrible against Velvet. The reasons were different, though: Weiss’s glyphs could help her, but Coco and Velvet had the means to break through them easily.

The real issue was Velvet. Her Semblance made her almost perfect in nearly every fight, and that’s where I came in. I had the means to counter any member of team CFVY in a one-on-one fight, and Velvet was no exception—just the hardest and most complicated opponent.

My speed was the key. It was obvious that, just like we had watched team CFVY’s fights and learned about them, they had done the same with us. Velvet had, but that wouldn’t matter if I was too fast for her.

I lightly slapped my cheeks before taking a deep breath and standing up. The dizziness had passed a while ago, but the nervousness? Not so much. Still, I’d manage.

“Let’s get going…”

We talked for a few more minutes while walking to the confirmation area for the fighters. After that, I parted ways with the other girls, who wished me luck before I headed to the arena’s entrance. The North entrance. I knew whoever it was from team CFVY would be entering from the South.

“There’s no such thing as luck…” I muttered, sitting alone in the entry tunnel. They knew that. “Not with Devas’s title on the line… It’s just me and my skill…”

I took a few deep breaths. I was starting to feel sick again. Damn… Fighting terrorists and Grimm was way more dangerous and important than this, and yet, I wasn’t nearly as nervous as I am now!

I spent the next few minutes trying to calm down. I started to regret not taking the Purification Powder; the restlessness was awful. I thought about grabbing my phone to watch the stream, but I resisted, remembering I’d given it to Yang to avoid distractions… Damn.

… I needed to focus, to concentrate.

After what felt like hours—though it was probably just a few minutes—I heard Roman’s voice over the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen! And yes, I was coerced into saying ‘gentlemen’ this time. We are finally here, at the Vytal Festival finals! Fighters, get ready to enter the arena in just a few minutes!”

“It’s time then…” I gripped Crescent Rose’s handle; my hands were cold and trembling slightly. I squeezed the metal even tighter until my fingers turned completely white.

Before the door to the arena opened, a thought popped into my head. A silly idea, probably brought on by the anxiety, but still, I tried after a second of hesitation.

“Devas, can… can you hear me?…” I murmured into the dark, empty corridor.

No one answered. The only sounds around me were Roman’s commentary and the indecipherable hum of the crowd. My lips twisted into a sad, frustrated smile. I prepared myself to enter the arena.

… Of course not—[“Ruby, are you okay?”]

A voice echoed around me, four words, seeming to come from everywhere. Above, below, left, right, carried by the wind. From the surrounding walls, the shadows on the ground to the faint lights on the ceiling.

The air felt heavier, almost gaining weight—that was the right word. For a moment, the sensation was strange, so much so that I took a while to respond.

“D-Devas?! You can actually hear me?!” My voice came out higher and louder than I intended. Not that anyone could hear me… Oh…

[“I can. Did something happen? Any reason you called my name instead of sending a message on the stream?”]

The shadows around me visibly flickered. The lights above dimmed before brightening again, staying brighter this time, and the wind swirled around me slowly, gently. I wasn’t very good at sensing or seeing mana, even after training with my eyes since they had awakened, but I was sure the presence I felt around me was Devas’s mana.

It felt warm, I think? Like the sun. But at the same time, it was also cool, like a soft breeze or a shadow on a hot day. It was confusing…

“No, I mean, everything’s fine. Nothing happened,” I quickly replied, before realizing something. “Wait… Can you hear us all the time?!”

By the brother gods! I hope not… But what if he can?! I sing while baking cookies! He must think I’m weird! A weirdo who sings while forging and making delicious cookies!

[“No, I couldn’t. I only heard you because you called my name.”]

“Because I said your name?…” I mumbled, confused.

[“Called, not said. There’s a difference, Ruby. To simplify, imagine you’re in a room full of people. If one of them says your name, your attention might be drawn for a moment. But if that same person calls your name with the intent to talk to you, the chances of your senses picking it up are higher. It’s the same for me, my senses are just sharper.”]

“Called, not said. Got it…” I repeated as I looked around. “How are you talking from so far away? Is it because of your mana?”

[“Correct, though not entirely. I’m using my mana and a few other things, like my spiritual energy and nightmare energy. It’s a neat trick.”]

This time, I also paid attention to my surroundings as Devas explained. The shadows moved with every word that came from them. The lights above pulsed, dimming and brightening with the volume of his voice. The wind around me sped up and slowed down, swirling around me and the corridor, with each pause in Devas’s speech.

Everything felt alive. Everything was alive. Everything seemed to be just one single being. Him.

“It doesn’t feel like just a trick… It’s amazing…” He could hear me, couldn’t he?… I blushed before coughing into my hand. “Devas, are you still there?”

[“Yes. What’s up?”]

“Nothing, it’s just… I called you because I wanted to talk.” I finally answered the question he’d asked earlier. “I was anxious and wanted to talk to… someone, to try and calm down. That’s all…”

[“Did it work?”]

I looked down at my hands. They weren’t sweating or trembling anymore. Not anymore.

“Yeah.” Always.

[…]

The arena was simple, a coliseum with no obstacles. The ground was made of dirt and stone. It was the first thing I noticed when the doors opened. It only took me a second to recognize my opponent: CFVY’s choice for the final match.

I shifted Crescent Rose to my left hand and walked to the center of the arena. Velvet seemed to understand my intentions and didn’t draw her weapon either, walking towards me. She was the first to extend her hand.

“Let’s have a good fight. I was hoping it’d be you,” she said, with a serious expression. The air around us was calm, friendly. I shook her hand.

“Let’s have a good fight,” I agreed with a nod, though my phrasing was a bit different. “I was certain it’d be you.”

We didn’t exchange any more words. We let go of each other’s hands and turned, walking about fifty meters apart. When we faced each other again, the air between us was no longer the same: it was tense. There would be no more talking.

I tensed the muscles in my legs, mostly my calves, and leaned forward. I let my arms drop in front of me, gripping Crescent Rose’s handle in a reverse hold, its blade pointed upward. I took a deep breath.

The fight had already started when the doors opened. Roman had already announced the match, but we hadn’t attacked yet, out of mutual respect. This was the final; we were opponents, not enemies.

I focused my gaze on Velvet and concentrated as hard as I could. The sounds of the crowd began to fade into the background of my mind, along with Roman’s commentary, which was saying something about us not attacking for some reason. I tuned it all out and focused only on my opponent.

Velvet probably did the same. I couldn’t be sure, but from the way her ears pointed forward and her eyes narrowed at me, I was likely right. She held her camera with both hands—Anesidora, I reminded myself.

It was a beautiful piece of work, a magnificent creation that could replicate almost any weapon Velvet had taken a picture of, with near-perfect precision, using Hardlight Dust. I thought the concept was brilliant, though expensive; Hardlight Dust was a costly resource. That weapon, along with her Semblance, made her the problem she was.

I took a second deep breath. I didn’t move, didn’t blink. As much as it might seem like the best time to strike, with Velvet not having drawn any weapon, I waited. I took a third deep breath.

… Velvet’s finger slowly moved toward Anesidora’s button, just within my sight.

I moved. A single moment, that’s all it took. I activated my Semblance at full force. I didn’t kick off the ground like Devas — he moved with sheer brute strength — my body wasn’t anywhere near as strong as his, so I glided, taking light steps one at a time. Movements I had performed tens of thousands of times before. Millions.

With the first step, everything around me vanished into a flurry of rose petals; with the second, I reappeared behind Velvet, Crescent Rose’s blade just centimeters from her neck. I could see her ears twitching toward me, her pupils narrowing even further, her Aura glowing in a soft brown hue, preventing Crescent Rose’s blade from cutting into her.

Her reaction time was incredible. Velvet didn’t take more than an instant to react to my movements, her left arm elbowing the shaft of Crescent Rose, knocking the blade aside. It was a move I’d seen before, one that had been used against me before, but much more effectively than now.

You’re not Him.

Anesidora’s lens glowed with a robotic blue hue; a weapon appeared. Velvet let go of Anesidora and used her right arm to grab the weapon — my weapon — a copy of Crescent Rose. I reversed my grip on the real Crescent Rose again, swinging the blade away from Velvet’s neck as the barrel at the back of the blade aligned directly with her head.

“Bang!” “Bang!”

I pulled the trigger on the real Crescent Rose.

Velvet pulled the trigger on the fake Crescent Rose.

Our actions mirrored each other, as did our reactions. My body spun with the recoil from the shot, hers did too, just barely dodging the bullet, which singed the tips of her hair, burning a few strands. I could see her ears flatten against her head.

Before my feet touched the ground, Velvet moved, her left hand — now free — reaching for Anesidora, which was still falling. The fake Crescent Rose shattered in her hand, Anesidora glowing again, forging a new weapon.

Professor Goodwitch’s whip wrapped around me the moment my foot touched the arena floor. I pulled Crescent Rose down, slicing through the Dust creation and causing it to vanish, just like the fake Crescent Rose.

A third of a second, maybe less, was how long that action took. Velvet’s fist was in front of me, covered by a gauntlet I had made.

‘0.05 seconds is the time the shot will take to fire once you pull the trigger.’ An old memory of a conversation with Yang surfaced in my mind.

I’d fought Yang hundreds of times. I’d made these gauntlets. Ember Celica fired. I moved, just my head. My neck ached from the movement. My ear rang from the sound, probably less than Velvet’s did. The shot missed. I moved.

I leaned my body down and to the left, where Velvet still held Anesidora. Before Ember Celica disappeared into fragments of Hardlight Dust, I gripped the handle near Crescent Rose’s blade and swung upward toward Velvet’s chin, while simultaneously kicking at her shin.

The blade of my scythe made her aura glow brown. If not for it, her mouth would have been pierced. My kick was deflected by Sun’s weapon. Ruyi Bang and Jingu Bang, in their staff form, came toward my face. I twisted my wrist and switched my grip on Crescent Rose’s handle before firing.

My body spun, and only then did I realize that Ruyi Bang and Jingu Bang were already beginning to disappear before they even got close to my face. A huge shadow appeared on my right side; I moved my arms as fast as I could and struck with Crescent Rose in the direction of whatever it was.

A fake Magnhild collided with the blade of my weapon. The hammer shattered into blue fragments, and my body was flung away, my aura glowing from the impact. I turned my head toward Velvet. I didn’t want to—couldn’t—lose sight of her.

I didn’t avert my gaze: brown staring into silver. Velvet pressed Anesidora’s button again, the camera lens shining as another weapon was created. A bag… Gianduja, I recalled the name—Coco’s weapon. I threw all my weight into Crescent Rose and struck the ground.

The blade of my scythe embedded into the dirt, stopping my movement after cutting a few centimeters into the soil. I took a moment to stabilize myself after the jolt. My shoulders ached slightly.

I am not Him…

I didn’t get up. I threw myself to the ground, lying flat. A dozen bullets from the rotary machine gun Velvet held flew over my head. The one that hit my shoulder would have hurt more if Coco herself had fired it, thanks to her Semblance; still, it hurt.

… — A bag that transformed into a machine gun. Devas was right to find that confusing.

I activated Crescent Rose’s Mechashift mechanism before my body fully hit the ground. As my scythe turned into a rifle, I fired toward Velvet. — I’ll need to clean the mechanism later; some dirt probably got in…

I aimed to hit Anesidora or Velvet herself, but she seemed to realize this and threw the machine gun in front of the bullet, deflecting its path. The shot hit nothing but air as the machine gun shattered into blue fragments.

It wasn’t her reaction time that saved her this time. — You don’t think faster than my bullets…

My thoughts raced as did my body, now just a meter away from Velvet. I slashed with Crescent Rose, still shifting back into its scythe form.

— She knows my patterns. — Velvet blocked the first strike with the sheath-shield of Crocea Mors. — She studied me, obviously, but how much? — The second strike was parried by Crocea Mors’ blade. — What’s the limit of her Semblance? How much can she read me?!

The third strike tore through part of her aura. A trade: she didn’t defend and countered with a swift hit from Myrtenaster. The strike landed on the same shoulder the bullet had hit earlier, I noticed. The exact same spot where the bullet had struck.

My finger twitched on the trigger, a test, and I saw Velvet moving even before the bullet could leave the barrel. — She can read even my muscle movements?! How many of my fights has she watched?!

I frowned as my body spun with the ricochet of the bullet. Velvet’s ears flattened again, against her head, as the bullet that should have hit her forehead missed and shot toward the arena wall. My finger twitched on the trigger again, and she moved even before the second bullet could leave the barrel.

The bullet didn’t fire.

The trigger wouldn’t move, a finger pressing from the front while another pushed from the back, jamming the mechanism. Velvet’s eyes widened as she realized what I had done. — Too late! I twisted Crescent Rose’s grip and struck with all the force I could toward her center of mass.

She wouldn’t be defeated with just this, I was sure, but my strike would tear away a good portion of her aura reserves—My attack was blocked.

MOVE! NOW!

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt something crawling down my spine. It was cold and terrifying. I didn’t know what part of me screamed, or if it was even a scream, maybe just a whisper. It didn’t matter; it was an alarm, a warning, one I had no intention of ignoring.

I threw my body to the side as fast as I could and, this time, kicked off the ground. A desperate measure. I ignored the pain from my right shoulder, both from the damage and the recoil of pulling Crescent Rose mid-strike, and put as much distance as I could between myself and Velvet.

Lucky I did. Thank goodness I did! Houtengeki tore through the air where I had just been before crashing into the ground, creating a massive crack over twenty meters long in the arena, sending dust flying in all directions. A simple downward strike was enough to cause all this destruction. The weapon shattered like the others, but the damage was done.

If that had hit me, at least fifty percent of my aura would have been shattered. Maybe even more… I swallowed hard.

Damn it, Devas! Why does a pale imitation of one of your casual strikes have to be enough to almost knock me out of the fight?!

I kept Velvet in my sight, but I hesitated to move. She did too, I noticed; her arms trembled slightly, and her breathing was erratic and labored.

… She can’t copy him the same way she can copy everyone else, can she?

I knew how Devas fought; I’d watched him fight since day one of the stream and had seen all, if not almost all, of his battles. I knew his moves, had tried to mimic them, even his breathing and strikes. Even though I didn’t have Velvet’s Semblance, I knew how Devas fought, how he breathed… She wasn’t doing it right… Not even close.

I’d seen her use Sun Breathing before; she nearly died from just one strike, but she was fine now. Either she had perfected it to a point where she could use Sun Breathing without too much harm, which wasn’t the case—I would have lost the fight in two seconds—or she wasn’t actually using Sun Breathing.

A pale imitation, just like the moon reflects the sun’s light; Velvet was mimicking Devas’s moves the best she could. She wasn’t using Sun Breathing, but some other type of breathing, something derived, much, much more flawed and imperfect. But still, it was a breathing style.

… I was jealous. Envious, actually.

First Professor Ozpin, now her?! Professor Ozpin, fine; from what I’d figured out, he had a bazillion years of experience. But her?! How had she made this work without spiritual energy or mana?! I’d been trying to create a breathing technique ever since I saw Devas create his, and I still hadn’t had nearly any success!

It wasn’t fair!

I growled. A sound I’d never heard my body make before came from my throat. It was a truly cruel noise, and it scared me a little to know it came from me. I felt the little mana I had in my eyes activate on its own; a silver glow crept into the corners of my vision.

“Don’t blink, rabbit.” She didn’t blink. It wouldn’t help her.

I vanished from where I stood; my vision was sharper than ever. The dust around me barely affected what I saw. I struck toward her left arm, the one holding Anesidora. Velvet reacted quickly and violently; she didn’t try to conserve energy or Aura and recreated the fake Houtengeki, thrusting it toward my chest.

“You’re using it wrong…” A pale imitation of the first form. Not exactly, but I didn’t care about being precise at the moment.

I twisted my body close to the fake Houtengeki, the halberd passing mere centimeters from my clothes. I pulled Crescent Rose close to my chest and gripped the handle near the blade. I didn’t strike at Velvet, but at Anesidora, which lay on the ground by her left foot. A slight forward lean and a low slash later, the camera wasn’t sliced in half, as would have been ideal, but it was sent flying.

I noticed Velvet’s feet bracing against the ground. Another pale imitation, this time of the second form. I bent my knees, lowering my body even further; the fake Houtengeki’s blade passed over my head, cutting maybe a few strands of hair.

I twisted my wrist and slashed upward with Crescent Rose, aiming for Velvet’s right wrist, the one giving strength to the strike; the left was just guiding. If she lost this copy, with Anesidora far away, the threat she posed would be minimal. Velvet reacted to my attack the moment I began the strike, balancing herself only on her right leg and kicking at me with her left.

She was taller than me, and her legs were long. Dodging that kick would require me to move back further than I wanted, putting me at a disadvantage. Taking the hit wouldn’t change much; I’d still be pushed back enough for her to recover.

As much as I could read her movements well, while she was imitating Devas poorly, she could also read mine just as well, if not better. I was dodging her blows, but just one full hit would send me flying farther than Anesidora had.

It was better not to risk it… I dropped Crescent Rose.

Velvet clearly wasn’t expecting that; I didn’t even need to see her eyes to know they were wide open, especially after I extended my arms to grab her leg. She tried to pull her limb back, but it was too late.

I was terrible at hand-to-hand combat; worse than terrible, my skill was atrocious. But that didn’t matter much in this situation, thanks to a few things going in my favor.

First: I had both feet on the ground; she didn’t. Velvet was balancing on one leg.

Second: she had a fake Houtengeki in her hands. As much as it was a cheap copy made of Hardlight Dust and clearly didn’t weigh anywhere near the original, it was still quite heavy.

Third and last: if there was one thing on my body that was toned and strong, it was my legs. I ran a lot!

I grunted when the sole of her shoe collided with my chest. — At least she’s not wearing high heels like Weiss. A random thought crossed my mind as I held onto her leg as tightly as I could with both hands, so tight that her Aura glowed brown around my grip.

Then, I pushed off the ground as hard as I could with my legs, throwing my weight and Velvet’s in the direction of the fake Houtengeki. She tried to regain her balance, but before she could or manage to plant the halberd in the arena or try anything else, we both went to the ground.

I didn’t try to punch or attack her right there; that would just turn into a catfight, one which, by the way, I was sure I’d lose. I got up as quickly as I could — or tried to — but Velvet stopped me with a strong kick to my ribs, sending me flying a few meters back. — Looks like I wasn’t the only one with strong legs here…

Before I could even get up, I saw Velvet heading toward Crescent Rose, which was closer to her. I knew that even if I stood up and ran as fast as I could, I wouldn’t make it in time, so I looked for the other weapon, the one I knew Velvet had dropped when she tried to regain her balance moments earlier.

I barely had to search; I found the fake Houtengeki less than a meter away from me, lying on its side on the arena floor. I didn’t hesitate to run toward the halberd; fighting unarmed against Crescent Rose was something I’d avoid not just as much as possible, but always!

I had built that scythe, my baby; what it had in beauty, it had in deadliness and terror!

When I lifted the fake Houtengeki, I realized how much lighter this copy was than the original. The weapon shouldn’t weigh much more than Crescent Rose, which, compared to the original’s four hundred kilos, was nothing. A fake copy, still very dangerous, but fake and flawed.

Hardlight Dust weapons didn’t last long either; even though Velvet didn’t have Anesidora in hand to undo the halberd into dust with the press of a button, I wouldn’t give this thing more than five minutes before it fell apart on its own, that’s if Crescent Rose didn’t shatter it before that. My scythe was the best.

I moved my eyes to Anesidora while gripping the fake Houtengeki’s shaft. It was just over a hundred meters away; I could get there in less than a second, and I’d have a copy of Crescent Rose in hand… The only problem was the original Crescent Rose; it still had bullets.

I was used to shooting at targets with Crescent Rose, not being a target for her. Even more so being the target of a shooter who could read me as easily as a book. I could run in a zigzag, but it was risky; if Velvet hit me with a shot, even a graze, she wouldn’t miss the second one, I was sure of that.

I stared at Velvet, who was standing still, waiting for me to move. She knew the weapon in my hands wouldn’t last long, and if I ran for Anesidora, she’d have a target. She didn’t need to move; I did, and she knew it.

Waiting was defeat, running to Anesidora was a possible defeat. So only one option remained…

I glanced at the Aura scoreboard from the corner of my eye.

[Velvet Scarlatina: 38%]

[Ruby Rose: 51%]

My hits and the prolonged use of her Semblance had taken their toll. Two… No, one hit. One solid hit would be enough to secure my victory. The only problem was: if I missed that hit, I didn’t think there’d be a chance for a second one…

I took a deep breath for a moment and leaned the upper part of my body slightly forward. It was strange using such a long weapon, but I thought I could improvise. I had seen Devas fight enough for that. I had imitated him enough for that.

I kicked the ground, this time on purpose, imitating the movement I had seen before and used my Semblance at full power. My body blurred, disappearing into rose petals. I felt something change slightly in my Semblance.

I reappeared about a meter in front of Velvet, who was already brandishing Crescent Rose at me. She had read me, and that was good; she knew what Ruby Rose would do and wanted to stop her. I wasn’t Ruby Rose at that moment.

I took the deepest breath I could, feeling my lungs burn as the air filled them and warmed my body, more oxygen than I was used to. Even though it wasn’t really a breathing technique, it still energized my body enough for what I wanted.

I ignored the red blade of Crescent Rose coming at me and slightly parted my legs, twisting the lower part of my body slightly to the left. At the same time, I twisted the upper part slightly to the right. I gripped the fake Houtengeki’s shaft tightly…

When Crescent Rose’s blade hit me between the neck and shoulder, my Aura flared red, resisting the blow as much as it could. At the same time, I felt the mana in my eyes pulse. They glowed even brighter in silver before deactivating on their own.

… Then I lunged forward with Houtengeki. — That’s how you use this!

Velvet’s Aura resisted for a whole second before shattering like glass, and her body was thrown back, colliding with the inner wall of the arena. I briefly noticed that she wasn’t looking directly at me, but at something above my head.

Before I could look up to see what it was, or ask her since she hadn’t passed out and was slowly getting up, the voices of the audience returned to my ears, as did Roman’s. I didn’t pay attention to any of them.

The voice that echoed around me, from all directions, was more important.

[“Congratulations on the victory, Ruby.”]

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep