As Elena replenished her stamina, Rem approached her with a nod of approval. "That was a nice fight. I thought you were going to lose," he remarked, his tone laced with admiration.
Elena chuckled, shaking off any notion of doubt. "Nah, I didn't even break a sweat," she replied, her confidence unwavering.

"It's good to see you in such high spirits," Rem observed, a hint of concern in his voice. "The booing of the crowd hasn't gotten to your heart or head."

Elena shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm used to it," she admitted, brushing off the weight of the crowd's animosity.

"Fine then," Rem continued, his gaze intense. "I want you to go all out in the next match. Otherwise, I can't showcase my true power."

"You got it," Elena affirmed, a sense of determination rising within her. If Rem needed her to unleash her full strength, then she would do so without hesitation.

As he walked away, Elena couldn't help but reflect on their interaction. Rem was one of the few who had never treated her like some kind of monster. His genuine kindness had always set him apart from the others, offering her a glimmer of hope in a world filled with prejudice.

The scorching sun beat down upon them as the anticipation of the crowd reached its peak. With a sense of purpose, Rem and Elena stepped onto the stadium, ready to engage in a battle of wits and skills.

As the announcer's voice thundered across the arena, signaling the start of their match, Rem wasted no time in unleashing his tactics. He hurled a barrage of unenhanced balls at Elena, but she easily dodged them. However, she realized too late his true intent as he knelt down and placed both of his hands on the ground and began channeling his ruah into the sand beneath their feet.

Rem had mastered Ruah-Tattva, the art of channeling one's ruah, the essence of life energy, into natural elements such as air, water, fire, or earth, and controlling them at will. With focused concentration, Rem extended his palms towards the sandy terrain, channeling his ruah into the grains of sand beneath him. As his connection deepened, the sand responded to his command, swirling and shaping itself under his control, ready to be wielded as a formidable weapon.

Before Elena could react, her legs were ensnared by the sand, rendering her immobile. Rem fashioned the sand into a colossal fist, launching a relentless assault upon her. Though she endured his onslaught, she knew she couldn't afford to let him maintain control for long.

With determination coursing through her veins, Elena drew upon the secret technique she had reserved for this pivotal moment. Pulling a dagger from her bag, she swiftly made a cut on her own wrist, crimson blood welling forth. Rem watched in confusion, as did the bewildered crowd, unsure of what was unfolding before them.

Unwavering, Elena focused her concentration, she shaped the blood into a sphere, her hands deftly manipulating its form. As the sphere took shape, she infused it with her ruah, imbuing it with a potent energy that crackled with power. A tangible aura surrounded the sphere, pulsating with raw energy, as Elena prepared to unleash her formidable creation upon her unsuspecting opponent.

With precision and control, she unleashed them upon him. Unlike the normal Ruah-enhanced spheres which Moori had used on Elena in their previous round, Elena's were unique: these spheres were made of her own blood. This allowed her to manipulate their trajectory and speed with unprecedented precision. With unwavering focus, she directed the spheres towards Rem, each movement calculated and deliberate.

Overwhelming Rem's defenses, the crimson spheres inflicted damage beyond his expectations. 

"What is this? You're able to channel your ruah into blood," Rem exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and admiration in his voice.

The reason for Rem's surprise was valid. While Ruah could indeed be channeled to any part of the body to enhance them, the ability to channel it specifically to one's blood was exceptionally rare. It was a gift bestowed upon only a select few by birth, marking them as extraordinary individuals.

"Yeah, even I was surprised when I found out. There are very few who can do it," Elena responded, acknowledging the rarity of her ability.

Rem nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Yeah, I've heard about it-the term for that is blood magic. Tell me, how much have you mastered it?"

"Enough to win this battle," Elena replied confidently, her resolve unwavering.

Rem's gaze narrowed, his mind undoubtedly racing with strategies. "Oh really? Now that those blood spheres have struck me, causing physical damage, what's next? Can you control your blood when it's inside me?"

Elena met his gaze evenly, determination burning in her eyes. "Yes, I can. Are you going to give up now?"

With a heavy sigh, Rem knelt down. "You've got me."

But Rem, undeterred, retaliated with a cunning attack of his own. He shaped the sand into a cannon-like form and propelled the spheres that he had thrown earlier towards Elena. With a flick of his wrist, the sandy cannon launched the spheres with formidable force, hurtling towards her with deadly accuracy, catching her off guard.

As the spheres struck her from behind, Rem's relentless assault continued. But even as she faltered, Elena refused to surrender. With the last of her strength, she turned the tide, manipulating her blood within Rem's body to incapacitate him. With a focused determination, she hardened her blood inside Rem, causing him immense pain. Rem staggered, his movements faltering as the agony coursed through him, leaving him vulnerable and unable to continue the fight. Despite her exhaustion, Elena maintained her resolve, knowing that victory was within her grasp.

As Rem fell to the ground, defeated, Elena too succumbed to exhaustion. There was total silence among the crowd, the tension palpable as they processed the outcome of the intense battle. However, this silence was abruptly shattered by a chilling declaration from someone in the crowd: "Pluton is reborn."

As she was losing her consciousness, the echoes of the crowd's cheers reached her ears. "Pluton, Pluton, Pluton," they chanted in unison, their voices rising in a crescendo of support.

The name reverberated through Elena's mind, unfamiliar yet strangely resonant. What could "Pluton" mean? Was it a title bestowed upon her in this moment of triumph? Or perhaps a name from a forgotten past?

In the opulent royal box, amidst the clamor of the battle stadium, a man with jet black hair, lean yet formidable, lounged on a cushioned seat , his body including face was covered with intricate markings. "So, the girl possesses that power," he mused, twirling his crown absentmindedly. "But it pales in comparison to what Pluton was able to do."

Beside him stood a woman clad in golden armor, there was a symbol of handprint near her left breastplate. "Indeed, my king," she replied, her voice resolute. "But it's just the beginning. We can mold her into a weapon akin to Pluton."

The king, rising from his seat, regarded them with a piercing gaze. "Very well, Erza," he said, his tone tinged with expectation. "Do not disappoint me in this endeavor. I will leave the girl to you"

"Yes, my king," Erza affirmed, bowing respectfully as the king departed.

As the king made his way out, he paused and gazed down at Elena fallen unconscious  on the ground, "Pluton was the strongest weapon in Elysium, until Nicklaus stole it from us," he remarked, his voice heavy with regret. "I don't see this girl coming even close to what Pluton was."

With those words, the king left, leaving behind an air of tension and mystery in the royal box.

Erza turned to the figure beside her, a man also wearing a golden armor just like hers , except he has a footprint marking near his left breastplate.

"I will be directly going to Prastan, Jerald. You bring the girl there; I will be waiting," Erza instructs with authority.

"Yes, Lady Erza," he affirms, his voice steady.

As Erza turns to leave, her gaze drifts over the crowd, her disdain evident. "This crowd is making me puke," she remarks, her tone laced with contempt.

Jerald, sensing an opportunity to voice his concerns, approaches the window, his voice barely a whisper. "Did Daemon do something to the girl for her to be able to use blood magic?" he ventures cautiously, his words laced with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

Erza pauses, her features hardening at the mention of Daemon. "Blood magic cannot be learned through experimentation," she states firmly. "It is a gift bestowed upon few by birth. And I doubt Daemon even knew if he had any children."

"So it's simply a gift from Fate," Jerald muses, his brow furrowing with concern.

Erza's eyes narrow, a warning glinting in their depths. "Don't pry into matters beyond your concern," she cautions sharply. "Simply do as you've been instructed. Don't be late."

With a final, stern look, Erza departs.

"It's really very unfortunate," he murmurs softly to himself, his gaze lingering on Elena, fallen unconscious. "I truly hope you don't make the same choices as my master." Jerald's words carried a weight of concern, a genuine desire for Elena to tread a different path.

Elena was taken to the infirmary. Meanwhile, Jerald,  also departed from the arena and made his way towards the infirmary.