Leonotis raced toward the swirling black orb, heart hammering in his chest. The distorted field around it resisted him, a palpable wall of corrupted reality. Each step felt like wading through a tide of unseen pressure. Panic flickered—he couldn’t lose Low, not here, not now.

  He reached the edge of the swirling blackness and slammed his palm against the invisible barrier. He was useless outside.

  A moment later, the ground vibrated, and Jacqueline and Zombiel slammed to a halt beside him.

  "What is that madness?" Jacqueline gasped, shielding her eyes from the rapidly swirling black column. Her hands flashed, and a controlled burst of water à??—a sharp, high-pressure jet—struck the barrier. It was instantly consumed and evaporated with a sickening hiss, leaving only a faint steam trail. "I can't penetrate the shield! It's absorbing every attempt!"

  Zombiel, his face unusually pale, reached out a small, firm hand. A nervous tremor of fire à?? flared and died quickly on his palm. "Low's in there," he mumbled, his voice laced with fearful desperation. "We have to break it!"

  "It's Silas's Void," Leonotis snapped, pacing frantically along the edge. "Breaking it will only make him absorb the impact and kill her faster!"

  From the shadows, Amara stepped forward, moving with her usual precise, ghostlike calm.

  “You can’t just run in,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the warped hum of the distortion. “I can take you inside the orb.”

  All three of them—Leonotis, Jacqueline, and Zombiel—snapped their attention to the mysterious woman.

  "You... you can get me in?" Leonotis asked, skepticism fighting with desperate hope.

  She nodded. "I owe you this. After this, we won’t meet again. I have debts to settle, and this is the one I can pay."

  Jacqueline fixed Amara with a sharp, suspicious look. "Amara? Why help us now?"

  "There is no price for you," Amara said, her gaze fixed entirely on Leonotis.

  He didn't hesitate, for there was no alternative. Low was inside, surrounded by a power he could barely fathom.

  “I trust you… get me inside,” he said.

  Amara felt something inside her stir at the words: I trust you. He had said them and he meant it completely.

  She closed her eyes and murmured a quiet invocation. The air rippled around them like water disturbed by a stone. A patch of space shimmered, twisted, and then collapsed inward, forming a passage into the heart of Silas’s distortion.

  Leonotis gripped the wooden replica Ada Ogun. Its surface was rough, yet familiar, humming faintly with stored Green à??. He felt the vines beneath his skin stir as if aware of the coming battle.

  "Hurry!" Jacqueline hissed, grabbing Zombiel's shoulder and pulling him back from the distortion’s edge. "Go! Get her out of there!"

  Amara reached out, and in an instant, the world twisted, pulling him into the swirling void.

  The arena lay before him—but altered. The sand was black and warped, the shadows curling unnaturally. Low was on the ground, battered, her dwarf disguise torn in places, axe still clutched in one hand. Silas loomed above her, Void corruption crackling around him, hand raised with a black sun of corruption at his fingertips.

  Leonotis’s eyes narrowed. He drew the wooden Ada Ogun, holding it like a conductor preparing to command a storm. He shed his cloak mid-air, revealing his green toga, white shirt, and black shorts.

  Silas froze. Recognition flared in his eyes.

  “The Green à??born,” he hissed. “Iku’s followers will exult at your capture.”

  The warped plane trembled as Silas unleashed a surge of Void, the corrupted shadows lashing like serpents.

  Leonotis planted his feet and tightened his grip on the wooden sword and slashed the shadow serpents before they could approach him. Every move had a dual purpose: defense, and channeling Green à?? into a form Silas might not anticipate. The blade thrummed faintly, absorbing the smallest traces of his stored energy.

  Silas struck telekinetically, attempting to twist Leonotis’s limbs with invisible, bone-snapping force. Pain lanced up his arm. Instinctively, Leonotis lashed out with the wooden Ada Ogun, striking a shadowy wave of corruption. The sword resonated with the vines beneath his skin, bending the Void long enough to stabilize his arm.

  Fast, chaotic, unpredictable, he reminded himself. Don’t give him a chance to absorb anything major.

  The wooden blade became an extension of his Green à??. Every strike fed him small surges of energy back, vines reacting, weaving around his wrists and legs. He struck at the edges of the Void, disrupting the corrupted telekinetic attacks with rapid jabs and thrusts, keeping Silas off balance.

  He saw Low on the ground, and a surge of determination burned hotter than fear. Not her. Not now.

  He lunged, thrusting the wooden Ada Ogun at Silas’s shadowy limbs, forcing the Void to bend and warp. Sparks of green à?? traced along the blade, reinforcing his movements. Silas’s eyes narrowed, irritation flickering across his face.

  Leonotis pressed his advantage, moving in tight, unpredictable arcs, the wooden sword slicing through distortions rather than aiming for physical strikes.

  “Impossible… you…” Silas hissed, the shadows flickering as Leonotis’s green power intertwined with the blade.

  The distorted plane quaked violently. The black column of corruption above began to pulse. Leonotis realized he couldn’t drag the fight out—the orb itself was unstable.

  Ada Ogun’s voice echoed faintly in his mind: Now, Leonotis. Focus. Let me guide you through.

  Ada Ogun? How are you talking to me? I'm not sleeping, Leonotis thought.

  You have the copy of me. I can’t let you die without saving Gethii. Now trust me.

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  With a mental nod, he allowed himself to trust her completely. The air rippled; a faint path opened ahead. Leonotis pushed forward, wooden Ada Ogun raised, vines coiling in tandem with his every movement.

  Silas surged with raw power. He raised his hands, calling on the full corruption of the Void. Reality bent violently around him. The arena sand twisted into spiraling towers of black, and the shadows thickened like living fog.

  Leonotis tightened his grip. Time to unleash the stored Green à??.

  The vines under his skin erupted, green energy coursing through him and into the Ada Ogun. The wooden blade pulsed with life. He struck upward, piercing the corruption itself, vines snaking along the edges of the Void, countering Silas’s telekinetic warping.

  The two forces collided. Corruption met Green à??, shadows tangled with the living vines. Silas faltered for the first time, his defenses destabilized. The wooden Ada Ogun’s strikes didn’t just block—they unbalanced, disrupted, and bled energy back to Leonotis.

  Do not falter. One misstep and Low dies.

  Leonotis lunged again, vines and sword in perfect harmony. Silas staggered, shadows twisting chaotically around him. A final surge of green à?? poured through the wooden blade, overwhelming the corrupted Void.

  Silas fell to his knees, the twisted black shadows retreating. Leonotis stood over him, the Ada Ogun held firm, vines rippling like green lightning.

  Silas, panting, glared up at Leonotis. “This… cannot be… the Green à??born…”

  Leonotis tightened his grip on the wooden Ada Ogun. It is me, and I will not let you harm her.

  The orb trembled violently, threatening to collapse entirely. Leonotis glanced toward the fading edges. “We end this now—or nothing survives here.”

  The wooden Ada Ogun pulsed faintly in his grip, thrumming in harmony with the vines. Silas groaned, barely able to lift a hand. Leonotis took a breath and thrust forward, slicing through the shadows and directly into Silas’s Void aura. The energy coiled around the blade, spiraling into Silas, ripping apart the edges of the black distortion.

  Silas roared, a sound warped and alien, as the corruption around him convulsed. His attempts to telekinetically crush Leonotis faltered; the Ada Ogun, combined with Leonotis’s living vines, absorbed and redirected the strain.

  Keep it steady, Ada Ogun’s voice resonated. Channel your power with precision. You can end this now.

  Leonotis hesitated. His eyes flicked to Silas, sprawled and beaten. “I… I can’t kill him,” he said quietly.

  Have you never killed anyone before? Ada Ogun’s voice hardened.

  “No,” Leonotis admitted.

  Then you will regret this, Ada Ogun said sharply, withdrawing slightly.

  Silas, sensing weakness, unleashed the next stage of his power. A purple-black vortex exploded upward from the warped sand, sucking in everything in the distorted plane.

  Void users always do this, Ada Ogun cut through sharply. You don’t need to fight it directly. Get away from him—distance will force the absorption to destroy him.

  “We’re trapped. In the orb,” Leonotis muttered.

  ...Oh yeah, well then you have to unleash your à??, Ada Ogun admitted reluctantly. Once he absorbs enough, he’ll burn out. But you have to push it fully.

  Leonotis gritted his teeth and raised the wooden Ada Ogun, channeling torrents of Green à?? into the vortex.

  The orb responded violently. Gusts of corrupted wind swirled around him, but each tendril of Green à?? disrupted them. The wooden sword glowed like molten bronze as vines extended to pierce the heart of the purple-black hole. Silas screamed as the vortex thrashed, turning against its creator.

  Good… excellent. Now I’ll give a fraction of my power into the void to stabilize your form. You must survive this.

  Leonotis pushed forward harder. Every tendril of living energy surged outward, entwining with the wooden Ada Ogun and his own body. The Ada Ogun glowed brighter with each thrust, each jab, each slash.

  Silas’s body convulsed uncontrollably, tendrils of Void collapsing inward. The energy he had tried to siphon backfired, burning him from the inside. With a final, strangled scream, Silas’s power imploded on itself, his body reduced to a twitching heap of spent corruption and broken à??.

  The distorted orb shuddered violently, the reality around them stabilizing. The warped sand slowed its spinning, the shadows unraveled, and the black vortex collapsed into nothingness.

  Leonotis staggered, vines still pulsating, breathing hard. He quickly crossed the space to Low, who lay sprawled, the dwarf disguise battered and torn. He scooped her up in a fireman's carry.

  Low groaned, blinking as consciousness returned. Her eyes, still hazy, focused on the devastated ground and the ruined husk of a body that had been Silas.

  "What happened?" she mumbled against his shoulder.

  "You have to pretend like you won," Leonotis said urgently, his voice tight. He set her down carefully, helping her plant her feet next to Silas's ruined form.

  Low glanced from the twitching heap to Leonotis. "Did you beat him?"

  "Yes," he confirmed, the exhaustion evident in his face. "I did."

  A flicker of shadow solidified next to Leonotis. Amara materialized, silent and composed.

  "The orb is about to be released," Amara said, her gaze steady on Leonotis. "And unless you want the King to know Lia is you, we should leave."

  Low's eyes widened, snapping fully into focus as she looked between Amara and Leonotis. The pieces clicked—Amara had known who he was. Low groaned, adjusting her grip on the axe.

  "I should have known you'd do something like that," she muttered, equal parts annoyance and relief in her tone. She looked past them, toward the rapidly fading edge of the distortion. "Hurry and get out. I can already start to see the crowd."

  Amara simply nodded, placing a hand on Leonotis’s arm. In the next breath, the air shimmered and twisted, and both Leonotis and Amara vanished, leaving behind only the residual tang of Green à?? and distortion.

  Low was alone.

  The last remnants of the black corruption dissolved entirely. One moment the arena was warped and silent, the next, the colossal, vibrant spectacle of the Colosseum returned with a deafening roar.

  Low was left standing triumphantly over the corpse of Silas. She planted a heavy boot on the ground near his twitching husk, trying to hide her sheer disgust at the sight of the ruined body.

  The crowd, which had expected a spectacular collapse, was stunned into silence. Thousands of people stared, utterly stupefied, at the massive, battle-worn dwarf and the wreckage at her feet.

  Then, the silence broke. A single, furious voice started chanting from the stands, quickly joined by others, louder and louder, until the roar shook the foundations of the palace:

  "Grom Stonehand! Grom Stonehand!"

  The world snapped back into focus. One moment, Leonotis was reeling from the residual shock of the collapsing Void orb, the next, he found himself standing on familiar wooden flooring. The air smelled of expensive incense and old paper, replacing the stench of corruption.

  He looked around, recognizing the heavy curtains and carved headboard of his room in the palace. He was safe.

  Beside him, Amara stood motionless, her pale eyes fixed on him.

  Relief washed over Leonotis, dizzying and profound. "Thank you," he breathed, leaning on the wooden Ada Ogun for support. "I couldn't have done anything without you."

  Amara looked at him, her expression unreadable. Then, she spoke, her voice still quiet, but carrying a sudden, deep resonance.

  "My name isn't Amara."

  Leonotis’s eyes widened, a fresh wave of shock hitting him.

  "And this isn't what I look like," she added.

  A subtle shimmer began around her, like thin, hot air rising from stone. The contours of her face and body softened, the severe lines melting into something younger, more vibrant. The change wasn't violent, but a gradual, fluid realization of her true form.

  The mysterious woman that was Amara was gone. In her place stood a young woman who looked to be exactly Leonotis's age, with warm, thoughtful eyes and hair that seemed to absorb the room's dim light.

  She smiled faintly. "My name is Imani."

  Leonotis stared, momentarily speechless, his exhaustion forgotten. He took in her genuine form—the strength and quiet wisdom now visible.

  "Wow," he finally managed, shaking his head slightly. "You are powerful, kind, and beautiful."

  Imani gave a small, weary shrug. "I'm none of those things, but thank you." Her gaze grew distant, a shadow passing over her eyes. "I'm glad I met you, Leonotis. But as I said, we'll never meet again."

  She didn't wait for a reply. Her form began to dissolve, not in a chaotic explosion of light, but in a controlled, graceful plume of black smoke that coiled upward like a rope. It vanished instantly, leaving behind only a faint scent of rain and dry earth.

  Leonotis was left alone in the silent room, the wooden Ada Ogun still in his hand, the only proof of the impossible battle and the stranger who had saved them both. The muffled, delayed roar of the distant arena crowd was the only sound.