The stadium was buzzing with anticipation, with the crowd screaming for more as Rynhara and Lyra stood across from each other. Both of them had already endured massive attacks and counterattacks, yet the match was far from over.
Rynhara coughed lightly as she wiped a trickle of blood from her cheek, her smirk never faltering. "Well, Lyra, at least you're not boring me to tears like some of the others. I'll give you that."
Lyra straightened her slightly scorched dress, an icy glare fixed on her opponent. "And I'll admit you've made this fight mildly entertaining—like a drunk dragon trying to juggle fireballs."
"Hey, I resemble that remark," Rynhara shot back with a laugh.
The two combatants charged again, their blades meeting in a whirlwind of sparks. The force of their clashes caused tremors to ripple through the arena. Lyra ducked under one of Rynhara's swings and retaliated with a frost-laden strike.
Rynhara deflected the blow, grinning. "You're gonna have to try harder than that!"
"Oh, I will," Lyra said, her rapier glowing. "Permafrost Bind!"
Rynhara suddenly found herself encased in a block of ice, her katana frozen mid-swing.
The crowd gasped, and the commentators jumped in.
Fira was practically bouncing in her seat. "And Lyra's got her! Is this the end for the Darkness Dragon Princess?!"
Drollas sighed. "It's unlikely. She has the subtlety of a wrecking ball. This ice prison will last about as long as her patience."
Inside the ice, Rynhara was visibly unimpressed. "Really? You're going to trap a dragon in ice?"
With a sudden burst of energy, the ice shattered, sending shards flying everywhere. Rynhara emerged, unharmed except for her now thoroughly frosted hair.
Lyra blinked. "Did you… did you just melt my spell with sheer sass?"
"Maybe. Storm Strike!" Rynhara yelled, summoning a miniature tornado that sent Lyra spinning across the arena like a new born dragon caught in a oitfall."
The crowd roared with laughter as Lyra finally stumbled to a stop, her hair a wild mess of frost and static electricity.
"You… you're the reason insurance premiums are so high," Lyra muttered, pointing her rapier.
"And you're the reason I'm bored," Rynhara teased, planting her katana in the ground. "Come on, Frosty. Give me your best shot."
Lyra growled, her rapier glowing with cold light. "Glacial Cataclysm!"
The temperature plummeted as a massive glacier erupted from the ground, freezing half the arena in a shimmering field of ice.
Rynhara, standing on the unfrozen side, scratched her head. "Huh. Nice trick. But I prefer my arena unfrozen, thanks. Dragon's Fury!"
The crowd screamed as a fiery explosion ripped through the ice, sending shards flying in every direction and melting a good portion of the glacier.
The commentators were losing it.
Fira clutched her mic. "This is insane! The sheer power of these two—it's almost like they don't care about the stadium!"
Drollas rolled his eyes. "Almost? They definitely don't care."
As the fight raged on, the damage to the stadium became more evident. Entire sections of the stands were reduced to rubble, and the protective barrier around the crowd flickered dangerously.
Rynhara and Lyra were locked in another close-range exchange, their weapons sparking with raw magic.
Lyra smirked through gritted teeth. "I thought dragons were supposed to be powerful. You're nothing but hot air!"
"Hot air?" Rynhara laughed. "Let me show you what hot really means!"
Rynhara raised her hand as her katana ignited with a rainbow light that shone with the intensity of ten thousand suns as she yelled, "Solar Flare Slash!"
Lyra countered, her rapier glowing with icy power. "Frozen Nova!"
The two attacks collided in a blinding explosion of fire and frost. The shockwave tore through the arena, blowing chunks of stone and ice into the air.
When the dust settled, half the stadium was in ruins. Both Rynhara and Lyra were still standing, though barely. Their armor and clothing were in tatters, and blood trickled from multiple wounds.
Rynhara wiped her mouth, grinning through the pain. "You're… not bad. But I'm still better."
Lyra smirked, her legs wobbling slightly. "We'll see about that… Dragon Princess."
The commentators were stunned silent for a moment before Fira broke the tension.
"I… I don't even know what to say," she stammered. "Half the stadium is gone!"
Drollas shook his head. "I do: someone get me a drink. This isn't a fight; it's a natural disaster."
The crowd, oblivious to the destruction, roared in approval as the two combatants prepared for the next round. The fight wasn't over yet—and neither was the chaos.