Unmade Chapter 205: Chapter 205: Final Match

Vale looked up at the towering Shade before him and took a single step back, deliberately widening the space between them. Two meters, barely anything, yet enough to breathe and move. His fists remained raised, his stance tight, his body coiled like a drawn bow. As his gaze stayed locked on the shadowed figure, a strange sensation bloomed in his chest, unease, subtle but persistent. He knew the Shade’s name. He knew who it was meant to be. And yet… it felt wrong to think of it that way. Calling it by its original name felt like a lie. This wasn’t the man who once lived and breathed. This wasn’t Leo Lionheart. What stood before him was a remnant, a silhouette carved from memory and instinct, a shadow wearing the shape of someone long gone. Whatever humanity had once existed was buried deep beneath layers of instinct and power. Vale exhaled slowly. His fists stayed high as his focus sharpened, his vision narrowing until nothing existed beyond the Shade. The world seemed to pull inward, the arena fading into the background as every ounce of his attention fixed itself on the figure before him. The Shade looked down at Vale, its expression unreadable, its face swallowed by darkness as always. Long strands of shadowed hair stirred behind it, as if an unseen wind cut through the arena. It stood loose, relaxed, hands low, posture open, utterly unbothered by Vale’s guarded stance. That, more than anything else, was terrifying. It stood like something that knew it could not be harmed. And the more Vale thought about it, the more he suspected that might be true. Last time, he had managed to damage the Shade, but only with a weapon, only by pushing himself to the brink. Now, he was unarmed. All he had were his fists, his body, and whatever he could glean from instinct and observation. 'This is madness,' he thought. Still, he didn’t move. Vale waited. He knew better than to strike first against something so overwhelmingly powerful. Acting too soon would mean death, simple, immediate, unavoidable death. So he stayed still, muscles screaming for motion, every nerve alight, his breathing controlled and shallow. Seconds stretched. Then, movement erupted. The Shade didn’t rush him. It didn’t lunge or explode forward. Instead, it slowly raised one arm, almost casually, as if deliberately allowing Vale to read the motion. Vale’s eyes narrowed. He reacted instantly, leaping backward and bracing himself, forearms crossing protectively over his chest. His attention locked onto the Shade’s fist, tracking every fraction of movement. It wasn’t enough. The Shade released the punch. The fist never reached Vale. Instead, the air itself shattered. An invisible shockwave ripped forward, compressing the space between them in a violent snap. It slammed into Vale’s abdomen with crushing force and sent him flying backward as if he had been struck by a siege hammer. His eyes widened as his body tore through the air. The pain was… minimal. Strangely so. It felt almost harmless, like being struck by a careless child. But the impact, That was another story. Vale twisted midair, instincts screaming, and planted his feet against the arena wall nearly a dozen meters away. Stone cracked beneath the force as he pushed off, landing hard but upright, boots scraping across the floor. He didn’t break eye contact. Lowering himself into a crouch, one hand brushing the ground, Vale exhaled sharply. “This isn’t a duel,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through his veins. He shifted lower, his posture becoming almost animalistic, spine bent, chin nearly brushing the cold stone beneath him. His breath slowed, deep and deliberate. “This is training,” he added, eyes narrowing. “Isn’t it?” Without waiting for an answer, Vale exploded forward. The stone beneath his feet cracked as he launched himself with inhuman force, closing the distance in a heartbeat. The Shade remained still, watching him approach with those glowing crimson eyes. Just before ente