Does Niko even stand a chance?! I have to ask Desmond.

  I tapped Desmond on the shoulder. “How strong is Niko?”

  Desmond’s gaze narrowed, as though measuring numbers in his head. “Niko is level eighteen. He’s got eleven strength, eleven speed, six stamina, six senses, and ten class. He reached that level by slaughtering sandworms, draining himself close to collapse. He risked burning out, but when you saved him back then with the oasis, his gamble paid off.”

  I asked, “So... what technique is that? Assuming he has them like Soto?”

  Desmond folded his massive arms. “Copy. It lets him replicate his enemy's style for two minutes. The catch? It only works on styles tied to martial combat.”

  I felt hope flash in me. “So he’s going to win.”

  Desmond shook his head grimly. “He can. But don’t forget—that thing isn’t human. That demon still has higher stats, even in this weakened state.”

  My throat went dry. This was going to be close.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. I have to move!

  I launched forward. A punch tore from my arm, red lightning erupting from my fist, the sound sharp like thunder cracking open the sky. It smashed into Takemikazuchi’s face, forcing his head back.

  He recoiled, but sneered through the blow. “That didn’t hurt at all!”

  Liar. I felt the tremor in his body when I connected.

  In the blink of an eye, his form broke apart into streaks of pure blue lightning. He zipped around me, sparks burning across the arena floor. My eyes couldn’t keep up.

  His fist slammed into my spine, pain screaming through my body.

  I gritted my teeth until I thought they’d crack. I spun with his momentum, seizing his wrist mid-strike. His smugness faltered for a split second. Perfect. I twisted, driving my heel into his liver with every ounce of force I had. He lurched, his body twitching under the shock, and I followed with a punch aimed at his stomach.

  But he caught it, as if I were a child striking a wall.

  His lips curled upward, smugness returning. He tilted his head back, preparing to mock me.

  I cut him off. My fist shot upward in a brutal uppercut, cracking his jaw. His teeth clamped down on his own tongue. The sneer turned into a spray of blood.

  “Ghh—!” He hissed, furious, and drove his elbow into my chin. Blue lightning scorched my face, the heat biting into my skin. The impact rattled my brain, and before I could recover, he raised his palm to my cheek.

  “Thunder God's Gift.”

  Lightning detonated point-blank. Agony seared across my face as the bolt launched me backward. My skin screamed, my vision went white.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  My body roared with red lightning of its own, pulling me upright.

  We clashed again—strike after strike, each blow so fast it blurred, every punch trailing lightning, every kick carrying thunder. His was cold, cutting, merciless blue. Mine burned hot, defiant, crimson red. Every strike came with fire in the nerves, a burning ache beneath my skin.

  I roared and kneed him in the gut. He didn’t block it. It was too fast, too sudden. His body lurched. I followed, leaping off the ground, slamming my foot under his chin. His head snapped back, and his body went airborne, flung across the arena.

  As he flew, he spat words through clenched teeth. “How are you landing these?! I’m stronger than you!”

  I didn’t answer. I let my actions speak, as he told me to do. I raised my arm high, lightning crawling down it like snakes of fire. A hammerfist crashed onto his nose as he hit the sand.

  He raised his guard, anticipating another downward strike. I feinted, then blitzed in low, foot cutting across the air. My shin slammed into his groin with bone-cracking force. His howl tore through the arena as his body shot upward, propelled into the air, climbing higher and higher until he hovered above us, arms crossed, glaring down with godlike disdain.

  “I cannot believe this.” he spat, disbelief burning his face. “You’re really copying the Thunder God style perfectly! Or should I say this Tower is copying it perfectly?”

  His aura surged, a storm forming above him. “No longer! If my martial arts cannot kill you, then you will taste my magic.”

  Magic?

  He spread his fingers, thunder rolling across the sky. “Lightning!”

  A massive bolt tore from a conjured circle, bigger than a tree trunk, aimed straight at me. I dove right, sparks singeing my arm as it detonated where I’d stood.

  “Chain Lightning!” he roared, pointing two fingers down.

  Another bolt, smaller but just as fast, shot out from one finger. Then another from the other. A barrage of crackling death filled the arena, a cage of light closing in.

  My body screamed in protest, but I forced it faster, faster, faster. My speed barely kept me alive. Every dodge came within inches of paralysis, or even death. He laughed above me, drunk on power. I needed to close the distance. But how? He wasn’t floating by martial skill. He was hovering with his damn magic.

  I gritted my teeth, yelling toward the stands. “Desmond! Is Haruto ready?! I need his magic. Mana Enhancement and Gravity!”

  Desmond’s voice thundered back. “Yes! He’s ready!”

  I leapt, and whispered, “Teleport.”

  Crack!

  The arena wall swallowed me whole. In here, inside this invisible barrier, his lightning couldn’t touch me.

  Haruto’s hand clamped on my shoulder. His voice was steady, focused. “Mana Enhancement.”

  Power surged through me.

  “Gravity.” Haruto finished.

  Perfect. With this power, and this weightlessness!

  I nodded once, then jumped back through. “Teleport.”

  Takemikazuchi raised both hands skyward, his voice shaking the arena. “Thunder God's Wrath!”

  Above him, a colossal sphere of lightning swelled, blinding blue light filling the sky. That ball could erase me—erase anyone.

  I had one chance.

  The instant he hurled it, I pushed off the invisible wall, using it like a springboard. My body blurred red. He tracked me, hurling the sphere, but by the time it struck, I was already gone—already across the arena. Faster than lightning. I burst upward, fist cocked, aura screaming. My punch connected with his jaw, blasting him downward.

  I clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers as though holding a massive boulder. I envisioned crushing him with the weight of a mountain. The red lightning obeyed, erupting in arcs across my arms, cascading forward. Bolts hammered him as he struck the floor, chaining into a thunderous explosion that lit the entire arena.

  The force of it blinded me. When the dust cleared, I wasn’t in the arena anymore.

  A loser killed a god. Well... a weakened one.

  So what will my title be?