At the critical moment, Shajin gripped his longsword tightly. Muscles tensed, veins bulging, he suddenly exploded with power and slashed downward in one swift motion.
The blade tore through the air with a piercing whistle, carving a beautiful yet deadly arc, like lightning crashing toward Tartaglia's leg.
Tartaglia's eyes narrowed—his reaction was instantaneous. Without the slightest hesitation, he raised his leg, foot locking firmly onto the ground like an iron clamp, then kicked upward with full force.
Bang!
A chunk of rock was launched from the ground like a cannonball, whistling through the air with tremendous momentum and deadly precision—aimed straight at Shajin's face.
But Shajin remained calm and collected.
His right hand flicked ever so slightly—a subtle motion, yet filled with control and intent.
In that instant, the longsword seemed to come alive, twisting upward like a serpent.
Clang!
The blade struck the incoming rock dead on, deflecting it with a crisp metallic clang. The stone veered off its deadly trajectory, grazing his cheek as it whizzed by, leaving only a gust of wind in its wake.
Using that momentary opening, Shajin's figure blurred—he lunged forward like a specter.
In the blink of an eye, he was already upon Tartaglia, his blade sliding alongside the Harbinger's spear, slicing with blinding speed.
Clang—crackle—spark!
Their weapons clashed violently. Sparks burst in all directions, lighting up the space like a mini-storm of steel and fire.
Blade and spear, locked in fierce combat, danced in a breathtaking exchange of offense and defense.
Every strike was a masterclass in strength and precision—a display of battle prowess at its peak.
Their movements were lightning-fast, almost too quick to follow. Each strike was more vicious than the last, leaving no room for hesitation, no intent spared. Every blow was thrown with the intent to kill, the pressure suffocating.
The tension gripped the crowd like an invisible vice. No one dared to blink, fearing they'd miss even a fraction of this life-or-death duel.
The air around the arena seemed to freeze under the weight of their ferocity.
Shajin's eyes sharpened. His left leg pushed off the ground, launching him diagonally forward.
At the same time, his blade swept in a deadly arc—aimed straight for Tartaglia's throat.
But Tartaglia's body twisted like a flash of lightning, narrowly evading the strike with practiced ease.
In a seamless counter, his spear lunged out, its chilling tip aimed right at Shajin's heart.
Shajin reacted in an instant. His wrist flicked—his sword reversed, perfectly intercepting the incoming thrust.
Clang!
The tip of the spear collided with the blade in a brilliant burst of sound.
Neither gave way.
For a moment, time stood still. Even the air felt heavier, as if frozen by their sheer will.
Tartaglia's gaze burned like wildfire, locked intensely on Shajin as if trying to peer into his soul.
Shajin raised his blade once more.
Tartaglia didn't flinch. He tightened his grip on his spear, leaning forward, ready to launch another devastating assault.
And then, like twin meteors crashing through the sky, they collided again.
Blades clashed. Sparks exploded. Their weapons sang in furious harmony, a deadly symphony of fire and steel.
But just a heartbeat later, they both leapt backward, separating in perfect sync.
Shajin stood tall, relaxed—he even stretched with an exaggerated yawn.
Not a trace of exhaustion marked his face. Instead, he wore a confident, almost playful smile.
"Still got that weapon sense, huh~ Tartaglia."
Tartaglia let out a long breath. "Whew… Partner, you fight like an absolute monster…"
He gave a helpless shake of his head, then raised both hands high in surrender.
"I give up. I've got nothing left in me to keep going~"
As those words left his mouth, the crowd erupted once again, thunderous cheers echoing through the arena. People shouted and clapped, celebrating the magnificent duel.
Jess gulped.
So… this is the strength of a Fatui Harbinger?
And yet… putting a Harbinger in charge of security? Jess was pretty sure his own position wasn't going to survive that decision.
After Tartaglia exited the ring, the arena fell into silence once more. Despite the tempting reward, no one dared step up.
…
"How about now? Have you picked my bodyguard yet?"
A crisp female voice rang out behind the crowd.
"Ah! It's Lady Furina!"
"Lady Furina's here!"
"Over here! Look at me, Lady Furina!"
The surging mob was quickly restrained by the elite guards maintaining order.
Shajin looked toward the voice from the stage.
"So that's the Hydro Archon of Fontaine—Furina?"
She had a short, bobbed hairstyle reminiscent of jellyfish tentacles, and wore a blue ceremonial hat adorned with metallic trim and a butterfly bow, radiating elegance and nobility.
Her deep-blue fitted dress had a cascading asymmetric butterfly-tail design in the back, with lace-trimmed sleeves. She wore mismatched black and white gloves, white shorts, and strappy legwear.
Her Vision sat at the center of the bow on her waist. On her feet were black heels with butterfly decorations. The overall design struck a perfect balance between the dignity of a god and the flair of a fashion icon.
Shajin rubbed his chin.
He couldn't sense any divine power from her. To him, she felt no different from an ordinary person.
In fact, in the eyes of Fontaine's people, she seemed… more like a celebrity than a god.
Furina's gaze fell on Shajin standing atop the stage. Her eyes lit up. She hadn't expected her chosen guard to be this handsome.
Especially those eyes—so dreamy they made her want to drown in them.
She gave him a quick once-over.
"I saw the whole duel just now. Not bad. In fact, you're probably the strongest human I've seen—emphasis on human."
She straightened her back, placed a hand proudly on her hip, and declared:
"I, Furina, declare you the strongest!"
_
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