"The first match will be between Ragnar, the champion of the Kingdom of Valdrunn, and the champion of the Kingdom of Altherion. These matches are friendly, meant to gauge each other's abilities so that the decisive battle will be fair. Champions, enter the arena!"
The crowd's cheers rose as we stepped into the arena.
Ragnar looked at me with a mocking grin. "I won't go easy on you just because you're my old friend."
I matched his confidence. "Neither will I."
He laughed loudly. "Wait, do you really think I'd lose to you, the Writer's spoiled favorite?"
I furrowed my brows. "Stop calling me that damned name."
He didn't respond, only raising his massive sword. We took our stances, and the referee announced the start of the battle.
I drew my sword, enveloped it in mana, and felt energy coursing through it.
Ragnar watched me before pulling out his own enormous blade, shimmering with radiant mana.
"Aren't you going to use your ability?"
He answered confidently. "I'll save it for the decisive battle."
I smirked. "Didn't expect such cleverness from you."
He raised an eyebrow. "Was that a compliment?"
I didn't let him finish. I lunged at him with my sword.
He moved at the last second, dodging the strike by inches.
"You sly bastard!"
"The match has already started—don't expect mercy!"
He raised his massive sword and brought it down in a vertical slash. It was heavy, but it descended like lightning.
I leaped back just in time, rolling away as the force of his swing sent a gust of wind past me. Half a second slower, and I'd have been mincemeat.
Seizing the moment his weapon's weight left him vulnerable, I dashed forward and slashed at his shoulder.
The strike landed, but he didn't cry out—didn't even flinch.
"Is that all you've got?" I taunted.
No response. He just raised his sword again.
I struck at him with a rapid flurry, but he parried effortlessly, then shoved me back. I spun quickly, delivering a double slash that grazed his abdomen.
Then—**BAM!**
A punch from Ragnar—so fast I didn't even see it.
I flew across the arena, crashing hard into the ground. My face felt shattered.
Wiping blood from my nose, I grinned up at him.
"Now *that's* what I was waiting for." I took a deep breath. "But don't think I'll go down in one or two hits."
"Of course not!"
We clashed again.
I thrust at his face, but he ducked at the last second. Before I could retreat, his fist slammed into my gut.
I gasped in pain but clung to his arm, driving three quick slashes into his chest.
We broke apart, panting.
He looked at me seriously. "Aren't you going to use **Quake**?"
I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about that?"
Ragnar laughed mockingly. "You didn't know? Word of that incident has spread to every kingdom."
I exhaled sharply. "Didn't realize I was famous."
"Famous? Everyone *hates* you. There have been protests demanding your return to your own world, led by Vice-Captain Mary of the Knights. They even petitioned to make the battle a seven-way fight or summon a new champion."
"What a warm welcome."
"King Alexander managed to silence them—after some struggle."
For the first time since the fight began, I glanced at the crowd. They were chanting Ragnar's name.
"RAGNAR! RAGNAR!"
*What a crowd.*
The referee interrupted. "Champions, the rules require the use of abilities in these duels."
"Is there really such a rule?" Ragnar asked.
I replied, "Did you read the regulations?"
"No. Did you?"
"Yeah… but I ignored it. I figured they wouldn't care."
Before I could finish, he lashed out with his claws. I dropped low, twisting midair as I drew a dagger from my waist and aimed for his arm—
**CRACK!**
The moment the blade touched his skin, it shattered into pieces.
I retreated, putting distance between us. My eyes darted around the white arena, now littered with autumn leaves. *How did these get here?* Then I looked back at Ragnar—
"What the— Since when were you a **cat**?" I blurted, stunned.
His body had transformed into that of a white tiger standing on two legs.
"Good joke. But this form is my ability—**Bai Hu**, the embodiment of the west and autumn."
*Is that why the arena's covered in leaves?* I suddenly remembered the Chinese legend of Bai Hu from the first world I'd visited.
**ROAR!**
His deafening roar shook the arena—and **paralyzed me**.
"What the— Move! **MOVE!**" I strained, but my body wouldn't respond.
Then—
Ragnar appeared before me and drove his fist straight into my face.
I blacked out for a second before forcing myself back up, barely stopping myself from being knocked out of the ring.
*If they already know about Quake… then there's no harm in using it now.*
"What are you thinking about, *hero*?"
Ragnar charged at me like a raging beast. I clenched my fist and snarled, "Take **this**!"
The earth trembled in a five-meter radius. Stone spikes erupted, impaling Ragnar from all sides—some piercing clean through him.
The crowd recoiled in fear, remembering the disaster at the training grounds. Knights with earth-affinity magic stood ready outside the ring.
Ragnar coughed blood, staggering before the attack could finish me.
"HAHAHA! Is that all you've got, Ragnar?"
He didn't retreat. Instead, he **pushed forward**, the rocks spearing deeper into his body. Then—
His entire form **coated itself in metal**, and he lunged at me with terrifying speed, shattering every spike in his path. His fist connected—
**BOOM!**
I was hurled out of the arena.
"The first match is decided! The winner is Ragnar, champion of Valdrunn!"
After being healed, I took my place in the champions' seating, watching the remaining matches. I glanced at Ragnar, boasting about his strength, and smiled faintly—**guilty**. He was a good man, someone who'd always helped and defended me… before we became **Scriptwriters of the End**.
"You're playing maliciously ," a voice said.
I turned. It was Selena.
"Yeah, I know," I replied.
"You could've beaten Ragnar if you'd used the lightning technique from your fight with the Dreyk."
"And then what? Reveal more of my abilities? I'm not stupid— Wait, are you trying to win?"
"Of course. It doesn't matter if you know my ability—I'm certain of my victory."
"Getting cocky?"
"Also, you're the only one who can find weaknesses in others' abilities. And You saw my ability already when you read my past."
I smirked, oddly proud.
"There are others—Izak, Kyle, even Nova could do it."
"None of them compare to you. Not even me."
"So you're saying my loss was pointless?"
"Not at all. Now, everyone will ignore you in the final battle. Well, everyone *except me*." She grinned wickedly. "You'll be my first target."
I was about to retort when the referee announced:
"Now begins the second match—Nova, champion of the Kingdom of Elthexia, versus Kyle, champion of the Kingdom of Mordiath!"
Kyle and Nova entered the arena. Before the match started, Selena asked, "Who do you think will win?"
I paused. "Nova."
"Why Nova?"
"Because Kyle's too smart to waste his time with these matches."
"The best way to analyze an opponent is through direct combat. I doubt he'd pass that up."
"It also lets them analyze *your* abilities."
The match began—
And **ended** instantly.
Kyle's chains—ten in total, one attached to each finger with a blade at each tip—**pierced Nova's body before she could move**.
She collapsed unconscious, rushed to emergency care.
*Kyle… the Kyle I knew wasn't this brutal.*
"The winner is Kyle, champion of Mordiath!" the referee declared, voice shaking.
I turned to Selena. "Still confident?"
"Less so," she admitted. "But I'll just have to try harder." She smirked. "My match is next. See you."
I waved. "See you."
As Selena and Victor entered the arena, Kyle approached.
"Mind if I sit here?"
"Since when do you ask permission?"
"I'm trying to be polite."
I laughed, wiping tears from my eyes. "Looks like Mordiath taught you manners."
"You wouldn't believe how much they value etiquette and refinement," he said, his face pale and weary—but a small smile played on his lips.
"By the way, congrats on the win."
"It wasn't a real victory. Just a friendly match." He avoided my gaze.
"Did you win without using your ability?"
"Of course. I didn't need it."
*He's lying.* But I hadn't noticed anything unusual. *Wait—could it be…?*
"Your technique—does it increase your speed? Or maybe **slow time**? Am I right?"
"Yeah." He smiled—**fake**.
*What's wrong with him?*
"Choosing chains as your weapon was a good call."
"You talk too much." He crossed his arms, scowling.
"Since when are *you* not in the mood to talk? You're usually the chatterbox."
His behavior was off.
Kyle stayed silent for a long moment.
"Are you okay? You're not yourself."
"Don't worry. I'm fine."
"I **know** you're not." Kyle was my friend—I knew him better than anyone. I knew when he was lying.
He took a deep breath.
"...Do you think we should keep going?" His voice trembled.
"What do you mean?"
"Destroying worlds. Erasing them."
I frowned. "Yeah. We're end writers."
"Heh. Expected that answer… If that's how it is… then I—I won't be a end writer anymore." He looked away.
The air grew heavier. My heart pounded.
"W-What? Kyle, what are you saying?" I fought to keep my composure.
"I'm joining **them**."
A cold sweat dripped down my back. My chest tightened.
*He's serious… But—*
"Kyle, you're terrible at jokes," I said, voice shaking.
*I don't want to believe this.*
"I'm not joking." He still wouldn't look at me.
"You're my friend—"
Before I could finish, he turned and **shouted**, voice torn between rage and pain:
"**Stop this nonsense!** We're not human! There's no such thing as *friendship* or *family* between us! Scriptwriters are just **tools of destruction**!" He winced, guilt flashing across his face. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. I was just taking my anger out on you."
"No, I get it. Sometimes I think I should just be a killing machine without emotions. But that doesn't mean you can **betray us**!" I glared, furious.
"That's what we're **supposed** to be. But I see them—comrades from past worlds, people I killed—**haunting my dreams**."
My anger faded. I remembered my own nightmares.
"It's the same for me."
"I can't take it anymore… It **hurts**."
"That's what humans call a **conscience**," I muttered. "Maybe that's what makes them human."
"Then why not join me?"
"What?"
"Let's ease our guilt. Stop destroying worlds—**protect them instead**. What do you say?" His smile was hesitant.
I looked at the ground. "...I-I can't."
His smile vanished. "Is it because of the Great Writer?"
I didn't answer.
"The Great Writer **isn't your father**."
"I know. No need to remind me."
"Then why listen to him?"
"I… I don't know. I just **can't betray him**." My fists clenched.
"Kyle, what are you two talking about?" Selena interrupted.
"Finished your match?" he asked.
"Not just me. Izak's too."
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
Kyle sighed. "We got carried away. Thanks… I needed someone to talk to."
"Yeah. Sure."
As he walked toward the arena, I grabbed his shoulder.
"Kyle."
"What?"
"Why tell me you're joining them? Wouldn't it have been safer to keep it secret?"
"I… I trust you. That's all."
"That's it?"
"Yeah. You're my friend. I wanted you to remember that… in case we fight someday."
Our eyes met—**empty**, filled with nothing but sorrow.
I wanted to say something… but words failed me.
I wanted to stop him. But nothing I said would change his mind.
Before turning away, he asked one last time:
"**Are you sure** you won't join me?" His eyes pleaded.
I bit my lip, staring at the ground.
"I expected as much. Nothing will change my decision."
He walked into the arena. I returned to my seat, watching him leave—knowing this was **the last moment we'd ever be friends**.
From now on… we were **enemies**.
This was the turning point—not just a farewell, but a **divergence of fate**.
As he walked away, even his **shadow** felt alien… like he was someone I'd never known.
I sat, head in my hands, reeling. whether he won or lost, he'd remain in this world.
*But if he wins… there'll be no end writer here.*
If I win… maybe I can bring him back.*
*So I have to win.*
I watched Kyle's match against Ragnar.like with Nova .The chains pierced Ragnar's body, but he. didn't fall. He attacked with his claws
Kyle moved impossibly fast, slipping behind him.
That's what the crowd saw.
What they **didn't** see—
The world around Kyle **slowed to a crawl**. His chains gleamed with mana as they skewered Ragnar.
Ragnar lunged—slicing off Kyle's arm—
**'REJECT.'**
Time rewound.
This time, Kyle just carried Ragnar and **threw him out of the ring**.
Even in his Bai Hu form, Ragnar was effortlessly defeated.
Now, Selena vs. Izak.
They stepped into the arena, drawing their swords.
Selena **snapped her fingers**—
And Izak **froze**, gravity locking him in place.
"You're weak, Izak." She laughed, hurling him out with a flick of her wrist.
Her gravity manipulation was legendary—**worse**, she'd mastered its **second stage**. That's why I saw her as the favorite.
*But I won't lose.*
"Now, the final match! After this, we'll hold a vote predicting the winner of the Collective battle!"
A vote? The majority would likely pick the obvious favorite.
*But it won't change my resolve to win.*
The moment I heard the crowd's cheers, I realized—
**The true battle had already begun.**