Mateo launched himself forward.

  His greatspear swept in a horizontal arc, closing twenty meters in a heartbeat.

  Grey qi trailed from the phantom serpent coiled around his shoulders, mixing with the flames that licked along the weapon's edge.

  Leo threw himself backward. Formation pivot yanking him clear.

  The spear carved air where his chest had been.

  Mateo separated too. Landed. Planted his feet.

  The phantom serpent struck.

  It materialized from grey mist, massive jaws gaping wide, scales the size of dinner plates gleaming in the stadium lights. The head alone was larger than a car.

  It came at Leo like a runaway train, at a speed that no human body could match, no human eye could track.

  Leo's divine sense had understood everything before his eyes could possibly register.

  The formation pivot jerked him sideways. His feet left the ground.

  The serpent's fangs snapped shut on empty air, close enough that Leo felt the wind of its passage, smelled the stink of divine power.

  The serpent dissolved. Grey qi billowed outward in a thick cloud.

  Mateo burst through it.

  His right hand blazed with compressed fire. A ball of flame qi the size of his head, white at the core, ready to detonate on contact.

  Leo shuttled past him.

  The formation pivot pulled him around Mateo's flank. His lightsaber flicked out. One clean slash across Mateo's ribs as they flew by each other, two fighters passing at impossible speeds.

  Mateo spun and erupted the ball of flame.

  Fire and grey qi erupted from his body. It wrapped around him, thickened, expanded. The phantom serpent merged with his form. Scales rippled across armor. His neck elongated. His jaw distended.

  The serpent struck.

  Three meters of fanged head lunged at Leo. The jaws snapped. Once. Twice. Each bite fast enough to crack the air.

  Leo zigzagged.

  Formation pivot pushing him left. Lightsaber pulling him right. Up. Down. A chaotic pattern that kept him ahead of the snapping jaws by fractions of a second.

  He found his opening.

  The formation pivot launched him upward. The lightsaber dragged him into a diving strike. A combination practiced over a hundred times this morning. Etched into muscle memory. Executed without thought against this relentless enemy who refused to give him a second to think.

  The silver blade punched into scaled flesh.

  Grey qi sprayed from the wound. The serpent form convulsed. Dissolved. Mateo emerged from the dissipating mist, greatspear already sweeping, left hand throwing flame slashes in rapid succession.

  Leo retreated. Formation pivot pulling him back, back, back.

  Another serpent materialized.

  It came from his blind spot. Or what would have been his blind spot, if Leo had human perspective. His divine sense saw it from behind him, saw the massive jaws open, saw the strike begin.

  He pulled with his lightsaber.

  The weapon's momentum yanked him sideways. The serpent's fangs crashed together where his torso had been.

  Another serpent. Another dodge.

  Another. Another.

  Leo became a tumbling blur across the ruined field. Formation pivot and lightsaber working in desperate tandem, each push from his divine sense buying him another half second of survival. Grey mist billowed around him. Fangs snapped from every direction.

  Mateo leaped.

  He soared through the chaos, greatspear blazing with fire qi, trailing flames like a comet. The weapon thrust downward at Leo's rolling form.

  Leo dodged. Barely. The spear cratered the feild. Fire qi detonated outward. Burning turf and superheated air hammered into Leo's armored uniform, throwing him backward.

  Leo was already moving.

  He was familiar with this move and instinctively knew how to counter it.

  The formation pivot reversed his momentum.

  Leo shot forward through the dissipating blast, past the wall of fire and debris, arriving at Mateo's back before the divine child could recover his footing.

  His lightsaber whipped around in a vicious backhand swing.

  The weapon's momentum dragged his whole body through the arc. His aim found the junction where phantom serpent met human flesh. The silver blade slashed where the grey snake body emerged from where Mateo's heart was.

  Grey qi sprayed.

  Mateo gathered power around himself. The serpent form erupted outward, scales rippling across his entire body, limbs merging, features distorting. He became the giant snake. Twelve meters of grey coils and gleaming fangs.

  The serpent dove.

  It punched into the ruined field like a swimmer entering water. Stone and dirt parted around its massive form. The coils vanished underground.

  Leo's divine sense tracked the movement.

  He saw the serpent curve beneath the surface. Saw it orient on his position. Saw the jaws open as it rocketed upward, erupting from the dirt directly beneath his feet.

  Leo juked.

  The formation pivot threw him sideways at the last possible moment. The serpent's head burst from the ground, fangs snapping on empty air.

  Leo spun.

  His divine sense pulled his lightsaber in a sweeping arc. His body followed the weapon's horizontal crescent of silver light. The edge carved across the serpent's emerging form.

  A clean hit.

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  The serpent dissolved. Grey qi billowed. Mateo emerged from the mist, landing in a crouch, human once more.

  Mateo switched tactics.

  Flame slashes ripped through the air. Again and again.

  Crescents of fire that forced Leo to retreat, that bought Mateo space to set his feet. The greatspear followed. Quick, sweeping strikes that forced Leo to retreat beyond the weapon's maximum range.

  Leo gave ground. Waiting. Watching.

  Mateo lunged.

  The divine child covered ten meters in a single explosive step. His greatspear thrust forward, fire qi screaming along the shaft, the tip arriving at Leo's chest faster than a thrown dart.

  Leo sidestepped.

  The thrust passed him by a hand's width. He was already counterattacking, lightsaber rising for a slash.

  Mateo swept.

  The greatspear reversed direction. Three meters of flame-wrapped steel whipping around in a horizontal arc. Leo could only bring up his lightsaber to deflect.

  The impact lifted him off his feet.

  Mateo's superior strength, the weapon's greater mass, the momentum of the full-body swing. Leo's deflection bought him survival. He tumbled sideways, thrown like a rag doll, lightsaber ringing from the impact.

  Mateo pounced.

  He closed the distance in two steps. Greatspear rising overhead. Fire qi blazing. Victory in his grey eyes.

  Leo zigzagged.

  Formation pivot. Lightsaber. The combination launched him forward and up, directly into Mateo's descending strike. He passed the divine child in midair, two bodies crossing paths at impossible speeds.

  His lightsaber found flesh.

  One slash across Mateo's outstretched arm. Carved while the greatspear was midstrike. Before Mateo's weapon hit the ground and erupted in another explosion of fire qi.

  Right after Mateo hit, Leo was already there.

  He landed in Mateo's guard, close enough to feel the divine blood.

  Flame slashes came at him. Point blank. Waves of fire from Mateo's right hand.

  Leo danced.

  Sidestep. Slash. Dodge. Slash. He stayed inside the greatspear's effective range, negating Mateo's reach advantage, trading clean hits for glancing flame slashes. The fire burned across his armored uniform. He ignored it. Easy dodges. Easy hits.

  Mateo somersaulted.

  He launched himself upward, body rotating, greatspear spinning, the same whirlwind attack Leo had seen before. Flames trailed in spiraling patterns.

  Leo pushed himself side to side.

  Left. Right. Left again. The formation pivot and lightsaber working in perfect rhythm, threading his body through the gaps in Mateo's rotation.

  Mateo descended for another crater slam.

  Leo was already above him.

  The formation pivot launched him upward as Mateo fell. The lightsaber pulled him into a diving impale. The silver blade punched down into the junction where serpent met flesh, the same wound he had carved twice before.

  Grey qi sprayed. Mateo convulsed.

  The divine child threw himself backward. Flame slashes covered his retreat. Phantom serpents materialized, snapping at Leo, forcing him to dodge.

  Mateo was ranging him now. Staying at the edge of the greatspear's reach. Throwing attacks that Leo could dodge, but that kept him from closing. Trying to stall. Trying to outlast Leo's third person perspective.

  But the divine blood demanded action.

  Leo watched from above as instinct overtook strategy. Rage overtook reason. Saw the grey eyes blaze brighter. Saw the phantom serpent's influence grow. The human mind retreating. The divine beast surging forward.

  Mateo transformed.

  The serpent form erupted around him. Massive. Overwhelming. A torrent of grey scales. The phantom made manifest, divine blood pumping through its veins.

  The serpent gathered power.

  Grey qi condensed at its maw. A sphere of roiling divine energy, larger than before, denser, more destructive. The serpent's jaws gaped wide. It launched itself at Leo, the ball of grey power leading the charge.

  Leo dodged.

  He slipped sideways as the attack passed. The sphere detonated against the ruined field. A crater opened. Dirt and debris fountained upward. Grey qi billowed in choking clouds.

  Leo dove through it.

  His divine sense pierced the obscuring mist. He saw the serpent's flank. Saw the opening. His lightsaber thrust forward. Another impale. Another spray of grey qi.

  The serpent went wild.

  Jaws snapped. Coils swept. The massive body thrashed across the field, destroying everything it touched, trying to catch the small figure that kept slipping through its guard.

  Leo's divine sense had mapped the serpent's form. Saw the heart that pumped the body with divine blood, visible from his third person perspective as a bright point of power buried deep within the coils.

  The serpent's head swept toward him. Jaws gaping.

  Leo pushed himself up.

  The formation pivot launched him over the closing fangs. The serpent's jaws crashed together beneath him, close enough to feel the wind, close enough to hear the thunderous snap of divine teeth meeting.

  He was above the head now. Above the neck. Above the heart.

  His lightsaber thrust downward.

  The hilt dragged him down. And he kept on pushing the hilt harder and harder. The blade punched through grey scales. Through the burning core of the serpent's power.

  The heart ruptured.

  Grey qi exploded outward. The serpent convulsed. Its massive form writhed, coils thrashing, jaws snapping at nothing. The scales began to dissolve. The divine power began to unravel.

  A flash of white light.

  Leo stood alone in the ruined field. Craters and scorched earth surrounded him. Grey qi dissipated in wisps and curls, fading into the evening air. His lightsaber hummed pointed down in the air, held afloat by divine sense.

  Silence hung over the stadium.

  One hundred fifty thousand people held their breath. Every eye fixed on the small figure standing amid the devastation.

  A sixteen year old Qi Refiner with a silver sword.

  Standing where a divine beast had fallen.

  The roar began everywhere at once.

  One hundred fifty thousand voices. Screaming. Cheering. Rising in a single thunderous wave that shook the stadium walls and rolled across the ruined field like a physical force.

  Crimson and gold. Grey and blue. Rival schools united for this single moment. This triumph. A human had faced the catacombs. A mortal had challenged the divine.

  And won.

  The sound washed over Leo.

  His divine sense faded. Third person perspective collapsed. The detachment vanished. Suddenly he was back in his body, feeling his body. The ache of both dislocated shoulders. The burns across his armored uniform. The exhaustion that pressed down on every muscle.

  He let himself feel it.

  The lightsaber powered down. He reclipped it to his belt. His lifebound sword dissolved back into his dantian.

  Leo began to walk.

  He navigated between the craters. Stepped around the scorched earth. Picked his way through the devastation his battle had carved into the field. Each step slow. Amazed at the scale and ferocity of his fight.

  Deliberate. The roar of the crowd washing over him in endless waves.

  Around him, one hundred fifty thousand people celebrated a victory that belonged to every human who had ever stood against the divine.

  Leo walked off the field.

  ---

  At the edge of the field, a figure waited for him.

  Yuna stood in an Exeter cheerleading uniform, crimson and grey fabric hugging her frame in ways that made Leo's exhausted brain stumble over itself. The skirt ended high on her thighs. The fitted top accentuated curves. Her dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail that exposed the graceful line of her neck.

  Leo blinked. Then blinked again.

  "I didn't know you did cheer," he said.

  Yuna cupped a hand to her ear, pretending she couldn't understand. Her lips moved but the words dissolved into the wall of sound that surrounded them.

  Leo closed the distance between them. He leaned in, close enough to smell the faint sweetness of her perfume beneath the grass and char that clung to his uniform.

  "What are you doing here?" he said directly into her ear.

  Yuna pointed toward a cluster of photographers positioned behind her.

  She stood on her tiptoes, her lips brushing against his ear as she yelled over the crowd.

  "Your postgame photos. It's a tradition!"

  Leo sighed. He turned toward the photographers, positioning himself with all the enthusiasm of a man facing a firing squad.

  Yuna's expression soured.

  "Grab me," she said.

  "My shoulders are both dislocated," Leo replied. "I can't move my arms."

  Yuna's eyes widened briefly. Then her hands were on him. One hand gripped his shoulder, the other guided his upper arm inward. A sharp twist. Leo's left shoulder popped back into place with a wet crunch. Before he could process the pain, she had already moved to his right side.

  The pain flared white hot, then faded to a dull throb.

  "There," Yuna said.

  She drew herself close to him. Her hand found his, guiding it down. The fabric of her uniform was warm beneath his palm. The firmness of her body pressed against his side.

  "Grip," she instructed. "And give a good smirk."

  Leo's first instinct was annoyance. He was exhausted. Battered. The last thing he wanted was to pose for cameras like some kind of celebrity.

  The crowd was still roaring, still chanting his name. He had defeated a divine child, who would have been a prodigy in the catacombs. And a beautiful girl was pressed against him, looking up with expectant eyes.

  He let himself enjoy it.

  The smirk came easily. Self satisfied. A little arrogant. The expression of a young man who knew exactly what he had accomplished and felt no need to pretend otherwise. He gripped a little tighter.

  The photographers' cameras flashed.

  Yuna's hand found his again as they turned from the cameras. Her fingers slipped between his, warm and certain. She tugged him toward the tunnel entrance, and Leo followed along.

  Her hand felt good in his. So did the memory of her flesh beneath his palm.

  The thought surprised him. He opened his mouth to say something. Anything. Some acknowledgment of the moment, of her presence, of the warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with combat or victory.

  The medics intercepted them before he could speak.

  "Mr. Chen," the lead medic said, stepping directly into their path. "We need to get you checked immediately. You are more injured than you think."

  Hands closed around Leo's arms, guiding him away.

  Leo looked back over his shoulder.

  Yuna stood at the tunnel entrance, watching him go. The cheerleading uniform looked good on her. She raised one hand and blew him a kiss.

  Then the medics pulled him around a corner, and she was gone.