At this point, the commentator sadly announced that it was Ikenga who had won the round and would proceed to the final round, where he would face Armad.

Many were unhappy especially since most of them were Denizens and they naturally wanted their prince to go to the final round. But since they couldn't change the outcome and especially after seeing that Bizaya himself didn't care, they just put it aside and started talking about the final round, which was supposed to be the most exciting.

"If there is no serious injury among the finalists," the commentator said. "The final match would begin in the next six hours."

When asked if he had any injury, Ikenga said he'd no wound and wouldn't even leave the ring. He stood there on the ring, something that further elevated his value among the spectators.

Armad was also asked about it and he agreed to a six-hour respite.

The hours passed in a blink.

During the six hours, Nusi approached Armad with some good news.

"Armad?"

"Yes, elder sister Nusi, I'm ready. Will you please stop worrying?" Armad responded to her with a smirk, thinking she would give him the usual worrying look and speech. But he was wrong.

"You didn't even listen to me first. And I told you to stop calling me elder sister." Nusi smirked back. The two considered each other as friends now. "If you win this race then the Denizens will insist we stay here for at least a month to honor us. And that will be our chance to slip. I have talked to my brothers there and everything is going according to plan. Even if we don't get a chance to open the city borders, I'll try and get you news on Triple Factor. Babara will just have to accept it like that."

She reached out for the black cloth on Armad's forehead in a provocative manner. "Why do you need this now?"

Armad dodged thinking of ways to provoke her too. "If you can take off your head tie then I will take it off too. Deal?"

"What did you say?" Nusi ground her teeth, feigning anger.

In Mikironomada, every woman over the age of eighteen wore a veil over their head called head tie to cover their hair. And people would look at you in disgust if you didn't wear one.

"You can make it longer if you want, I don't care." She mumbled, glaring.

Armad laughed. You would always get the desired reaction when you asked a woman from Mikironomada to remove her head tie.

The six-hour break came to an end and the two men for the final round appeared on the ring. They were the winners of over seven hundred people who competed in the competition. And now that the two were facing each other, the audience expected some kind of grand battle.

Who would win? Who would go down? Who would show himself to the world? Who would take possession of the thousands of slaves gathered?

Armad stood on one side with his sword hanging over his shoulder, reading Ikenga who was standing in front of him, his eyes closed.

Surprisingly, it took them more than a minute to speak, and none of them moved.

Ikenga opened his eyes to look at Armad, his eyes fixed on the black cloth tied around Armad's forehead. He spoke in great pride and arrogance, his pol sipping through his voice like water through a sponge. "I hate so many people. But some of the people I hate the most are cowards who are afraid to reveal who they are. For reaching the final round, I initially intended to honor you by showing you my King Steps, which is why I didn't move from here. If you have died in this way you would have been proud of your life after death. You would have been among the few that die from the glorious art of King Steps.

"But here you are, wasting my time. Anyone afraid to reveal that he is a descendant of Wilberforce is not worthy of the Crown. Do you think just because there is no miyura on your forehead, my eyes won't be able to recognize you. I see everything. I see death when it sneaks on people to take them."

He pointed at Armad with his blade. His stance was otherworldly, like a sculpted djinn commander of the first dawn.

His opponent had said many things but Armad was amazed at how he easily identified him as a Wilberforce. Did he emit some kind of energy? A question for another time.

Ikenga lunged forward and slashed at Armad. He used simple but sharp swordplay to swing at Armad, and delivered the slash at him perpendicularly. Armad raised his sword and blocked it. But Ikenga slid his sword to the side, move aside to allow Armad's sword to pass, and then slashed at Armad's torso from below. It was short and precise and beautiful that it caught Armad off guard.

In the heat of the moment, Armad powered his legs by a few months to increase his speed to block the attack. He jumped to the side and retaliated with a slash of electric blade powered by 1 year. The situation forced Ikenga to use his pol to avoid it by jumping back and forth.

Armad didn't follow and decided to take a second and gauge his opponent, whereupon Ikenga also looked at him with a frown on his face.

The single exchange between them had excited the audience. They cheered loudly and called their names.

Armad sighed. It was time to reply to his opponent. "Do you think you're strong just because you came out of that little prison in your previous match? Well, think again. I don't care whether you know I am the Heir or not, or whether you can see death or not. I will win this match." And I would make her well again in six months.

"Hmm." Ikenga smiled and clapped his hands, secretly calling out his next incantation. "I'll defeat you with only a sword, without my djinn powers, and without the Bend of King Steps. As a descendant of Wilberforce, you at the very least deserve to be made an example. It was on this day that Wilberforce the third died, and today is the day that you get to meet your ancestors."

Armad raised an eyebrow in surprise because he didn't know who Wilberforce the third was. But it didn't matter now. He thought of victory.

"Let's see how long you can stay true to your word," Armad said. He created six lightning bolts carrying six months of pol each. They merged into three massive bolts and attacked Ikenga.

Ikenga swung his sword upwards and jumped in the air. He slashed through one of the lightning bolts. His sword went through the lightning and dispersed it in the air.

This attracted a great deal of cheering from the spectators. You needed exceptional skill in sword Bending to disperse a djinn attack with a normal sword, but Ikenga dispersed it with ease.

Even before the cheering died down, Ikenga slashed through the next lightning bolt and the next. He destroyed all the three bolts before his feet touched the ground, staring down at Armad.

Armad checked his core. He still had about 13 years and a few months left. Lightning bolts didn't cause much compression to the core and the regeneration was superb. That was why they were more suitable for battle. He channeled three years to create one giant lightning bolt and placed it above his right palm and lunged forward.

Ikenga saw the size of the bolt and he realized he couldn't slash through it with one sword. Even if he could defend himself, Armad could still fan the flames and burn him from the side. So he called for another incantation, whereupon another sword appeared on his other hand. He slashed down at Armad from the other side, sacrificing his safety for a direct hit.

Armad had thought this would happen and was prepared for it.

He fired another bolt with 3 years of pol in it and at the same time the third bolt, also carrying 3 years, appeared and circled to attack Ikenga from behind.

At first, Ikenga couldn't stand the three-year powered bolt, so he called for a second sword. But Armad was ready for it, whereupon he fired two more bolts backed by three years each. Armad wanted to win before his opponent stopped underestimating him and got the chance to use his full strength.