"Pick it up, Arezu."
Rust's gesture amidst the fight—tossing Arezu a sword to replace his half-broken halberd-axe—confused everyone watching their duel.
But for Arezu, now looking down at the sword lying on the ground before him, the gesture only made him uneasy.
Like the audience, Arezu couldn't understand why Rust wasn't ending the fight yet. Why was he giving him a chance to fight back? Why was he asking him to wield a sword?
Seeing the confusion on Arezu's face, Rust clearly declared his true intention.
"I'm not here for the title of Dungeon Conqueror, Arezu. I'm here to fight the swordsmaster I faced back in the uncharted dungeon—the one who defeated me with nothing but mastery of the sword."
Rust raised his massive buster-sword with one hand, pointing its blade at Arezu.
Then, with firm determination, he challenged him.
"Pick it up and fight me with that sword, Arezu!"
Not for the title of Dungeon Conqueror—but for his pride as a swordsman.
Hearing Rust's words only distressed Arezu further, not just because of his reluctance to continue fighting, but also due to his refusal to wield a sword.
The clear hesitation on Arezu's part made Rust realize he wouldn't be able to force Arezu to pick up the sword, to wield it, and to continue the fight under the current conditions.
If that's the case, then he simply needed to create a situation where Arezu would have no choice.
Rust resumed his assault, charging forward and brandishing his buster-sword—not just to break Arezu's Aegis, but to cut him down where he stood.
'Cleave'
'Reinforce'
Holding his ground, Arezu met the strike imbued with a combat skill, blocking the buster-sword's blade with the half-broken halberd-axe—barely held together by his own defensive combat skill.
Rust retracted his buster-sword only to swing again, another attack infused with skill. Then another. And another. An unrelenting onslaught.
'Shatter'
'Reinforce'
Arezu held firm, blocking every strike with his half-broken halberd-axe, refusing to fall.
"Come on, Arezu. Pick it up and fight back!"
Why should he? He had already fought long enough to accept that he would die fighting.
"Is that everything you've got?!"
So what if it was? It was everything he had on his own—and everything he had left.
"Pick up the sword… Arezu… or you won't be able to win…
As if winning would change anything.
...or you won't be able to protect anyone...
What's left to protect when he was already alone?
When I was the last one left, still fighting.
...or you won't be able to protect her...
I'm sorry, I failed to protect her.
"...or you won't be able to protect Ms. Lynn!"
Arezu's eyes widened. Rust's loud, threatening voice snapped him out of his spiral of guilt and regret.
Even as he continued defending against Rust's relentless attacks, Arezu glanced around—and understood Rust's threat.
The 12 veteran iron-rank adventurers he had just fought and defeated were now rushing toward Lynn, aiming their attacks at her.
Arezu couldn't remember when he had lost focus on the battlefield around him.
He couldn't recall how he'd held his ground against Rust for so long, or when Rust had called upon the 12 adventurers waiting at the far end of the training area to join the fight and attack Lynn.
All Arezu could see now were the offensive mystic spells cast by mages surging toward her, while close-combat fighters rushed in, weapons raised.
He wanted to run to her side—to protect her—but Rust's blade kept him locked in place, forcing him to defend himself with his broken halberd-axe.
"Pick up the sword, Arezu!"
Even though Arezu somehow knew the adventurers wouldn't kill Lynn due to the rules of engagement, the thought of her getting seriously hurt still terrified him.
Trapped between the chaos Rust had created and the guilt-laced hallucinations haunting him, Arezu reached his limit—and was about to break his vow for the second time.
His vow never to wield a sword again.
But not this time.
Because now, he wasn't fighting alone.
With a broken weapon in hand, Arezu shoved Rust back and held him at bay.
Then, he called the name of the one fighting beside him—or at least supposed to be—placing his faith in her strength.
"Lynn!"
"My, my... You're really asking for too much, Mr. Arezu."
Still seated, Lynn took one last sip of her drink before gathering her mana for a mystic spell.
"Wait! Lynn, stop!"
Sylvia saw the mana flowing through Lynn and instantly recognized the nature of the mystic spell she was about to cast. She tried to stop her—but it was already too late. Or perhaps Lynn had never intended to stop at all.
"Glacier"
A blast of cold air swept through the wide training area, even reaching the audience stands, followed by a freezing white mist that instantly engulfed the battlefield.
Silence fell over the trembling audience.
As the mist began to clear, the result became visible: the training field was blanketed in thick snow, and the 12 veteran iron-rank adventurers were encased in crystal-clear ice.
Only Lynn, Arezu, Rust, and Sylvia remained unaffected at the center of the frozen arena.
"Lynn, you fuc—"
"Hey! Language, Ms. Scary-Sylvia!"
"What did you call me, you twa—"
"Gyah!"
Ignoring Lynn and Sylvia's bickering, the audience turned their attention back to the duel between Arezu and Rust.
"So you refuse to use your swordsmanship no matter what, Arezu?"
Though Arezu remained silent, Rust understood his resolve.
"Fine... Then you leave me no choice. I'll be taking that title of yours."
Rust raised his buster-sword, channeling mana into the blade, preparing to activate his combat skill—Gale—to end the fight with a single final strike.
Arezu, still gripping what was left of his halberd-axe, took his stance, ready to meet the incoming blow with his defensive combat skill, Fortress.
Whether he could survive Rust's Gale with a broken weapon, he was about to find out.
If he lived.
But Rust's strike never came.
Just as he was about to unleash the skill, Rust's body trembled. He lowered his massive blade—then a loud grumbling echoed from his stomach.
"Ugh!... we'll fight again... some other day... Arezu..."
Barely finishing his sentence, Rust turned and sprinted out of the training area—to who knew where—leaving Arezu confused, dumbfounded, and exhausted.
"I guess his dignity means more to him than the title of Dungeon Conqueror."
Seeing Lynn's mischievous smile as she stood beside him, Arezu knew—she definitely did something behind the scenes.
"What did you do to Mr. Rust, Lynn?" he asked, his exhaustion bleeding into his voice.
"You've been nothing but rude to me today, Mr. Arezu!" Lynn snapped—or at least tried to make it look like she did.
Regardless, Lynn and Arezu—or rather, mostly Arezu—had completed the challenge and won the right to the title of Dungeon Conqueror.
But neither of them was out of trouble.
Not from Sylvia—or from Beatrix.
"Undo your mystic spell and unfreeze these adventurers, Lynn!"
"Arezu, you damn bastard! If you're going to misuse the weapon I made, then order a freaking shield, not a fucking halberd!"