Just as the fierce clash between the two sides reached a stalemate, Jess's eyes flashed—he had caught a fleeting opportunity.
In a split second, he launched into the air like a soaring eagle, aiming a powerful kick straight toward Tartaglia's abdomen!
The kick tore through the air with an audible whoosh, fast and sharp.
Faced with the sudden assault, Tartaglia reacted with lightning speed.
Almost the instant Jess moved, he sensed the danger and leapt backward.
Even with his reflexes, he couldn't fully escape the fierce gust that followed the strike.
Whoosh!
The shockwave grazed him, making his body stagger ever so slightly.
But Tartaglia was no pushover—such a minor setback didn't faze him.
He quickly stabilized himself, feet landing firmly, and readjusted his stance.
Then, like a fierce tiger descending the mountain, he charged at Jess again with relentless momentum.
In that moment, his eyes sharpened like twin blades of ice, locking onto Jess with chilling precision.
At the same time, the spear in his hand erupted with devastating force. The gleaming tip flashed like lightning as it tore through the air.
Every swing echoed with a sharp screeching sound, slicing the wind itself—sending shivers down the spines of onlookers.
Jess, facing that pressure, felt the weight of Tartaglia's strength—but he refused to back down. Gritting his teeth, he held his ground, pushing back against the storm of attacks with everything he had.
The fight between the two blazed white-hot, the air around them turning scalding from their intense clash.
Shajin frowned slightly.
Charlotte, standing beside him, noticed the reaction instantly.
"Shajin, what's wrong?"
Shajin gestured helplessly toward Tartaglia in the ring.
"That guy's probably wearing some pretty hefty weights—and he's holding back. Otherwise, this match would've been over long ago~"
Tartaglia's movements were ghostlike, flickering through the shadows as he dodged Jess's relentless assault with ease.
His spear danced like a viper, faster and faster until it formed an impenetrable wall of defense.
Jess's attacks grew more ferocious, but each one was effortlessly blocked.
Soon, fatigue crept in. Sweat poured down his face, soaking his clothes.
Still, he refused to yield, gritting his teeth, pouring everything he had into breaking through Tartaglia's defenses.
Then—finally—after a crushing exchange, Jess spotted a tiny crack in his opponent's guard.
It was the opening he'd been waiting for.
Without hesitation, he surged forward with all his strength, aiming to land a decisive, finishing blow.
But Tartaglia's reaction was faster than anyone could imagine. The moment Jess's strike was about to land, he twisted sideways with uncanny agility, narrowly evading the deadly attack.
At the same time, his spear swept out in a brutal arc with overwhelming force.
BOOM!
Caught off guard, Jess was struck hard and slammed to the ground, completely overwhelmed.
The crowd, who had been watching with bated breath, exploded in cheers and gasps.
They were all awestruck by Tartaglia's skill—his moves precise, powerful, and flawless. Admiration lit their eyes.
Tartaglia shrugged casually, his breathing perfectly steady, and nodded at Jess, who was sprawled on the ground.
"As a sparring partner, you're… barely passable."
Jess slammed his fist against the stage in frustration.
"Damn it! I was so close! Just a bit more and I could've become Lady Furina's personal guard!"
Tartaglia: "Huh?"
He scratched his head.
"Personal guard? What are you talking about?"
Jess blinked in confusion.
"…You didn't know? The winner gets to serve as Lady Furina's close-range bodyguard!"
Tartaglia spread his hands.
"I had no idea!"
Jess (and everyone): ...
On stage, Tartaglia waved frantically.
"Quick! Somebody strong—get up here and beat me already!"
But no one answered…
As Tartaglia stood there on the verge of tears, Shajin decided he'd seen enough fun.
"I'll go~"
His light comment immediately drew the attention of everyone around.
Tartaglia lit up.
"Partner! You're here?! Please, save me!"
With a graceful leap, Shajin landed on the stage, casually picking up a long blade.
"Let's do this. And take off those weights of yours while you're at it."
Tartaglia scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Haha… You noticed, huh…"
He untied the weights strapped to his limbs and casually tossed them aside.
BOOM!
The weights slammed into the ground with such force they left deep craters.
Tartaglia rolled his shoulders, loosening up.
"Ahh~ That's way better."
The crowd—and Jess—stared in utter disbelief.
Jess: "Bro, are you for real?!"
He just realized this Harbinger had been fighting the whole match wearing those kinds of weights?!
Shajin tested the balance of the blade in his hand.
"Ready?"
Tartaglia raised his spear.
"Come at me, partner!"
They moved so fast they vanished in a blur, leaving only echoes behind.
CLANG!
The clash of steel rang out like thunder in a storm, jolting the crowd.
In a heartbeat, blade and spear collided again and again—flickering, slashing, blurring like lightning and shadow.
Shajin moved like a phantom, his long blade slicing with fierce, unstoppable momentum, each swing packed with deadly power.
Tartaglia, undaunted, met his blows with dazzling technique. He parried, deflected, then struck back in a seamless rhythm.
At one point, he slipped past a sweeping slash and, just as Shajin's momentum peaked, thrust forward—his spear snapping out like a serpent aiming for the kill.
But Shajin reacted instantly, kicking back hard with both feet. He shot into the air, narrowly avoiding the strike.
_
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