Lucian sprinted through the academy grounds. His breath came in sharp bursts, his mind racing faster than his legs. Leonhardt… what are you? Have you completely lost it?
After two days of grueling travel, he had returned only to hear whispers of his brother's reckless duel. Panic clawed at him as he reached the arena steps.
He skidded to a stop at the viewpoint, gripping the railing for support. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, his eyes slowly lowering to the arena below. What he saw made his heart stop.
Garrik stood in the center of the arena, his massive fists adorned with golden gauntlets.
Resonance weapons—symbols of noble bloodlines, weapons summoned from their very essence. Only those born into noble bloodlines could wield them.
Lucian's gaze turned to his brother. Leonhardt stood calm, unarmed, his crimson eyes steady and unshaken. No weapon, no fear—just that unnerving stillness.
Garrik sneered, vanishing in a blur of speed. Reo's eyes darted, searching, but Garrik appeared in front of him in an instant, his massive arm swinging down like a hammer.
Reo barely ducked, the gauntlet grazing the air above him.
His speed increased. Reo thought
Reo calculated quickly, aiming an uppercut, but Garrik caught his fist mid-swing, the gauntlet clamping down with crushing force.
Reo's jaw tightened, but he didn't hesitate. Twisting his body, he launched a sidekick aimed at Garrik's ribs. Garrik's other hand shot out, catching Reo's leg with ease.
A cruel grin spread across Garrik's face as he lifted Reo off the ground, holding him by both arm and leg like a ragdoll.
With a guttural roar, Garrik drove his knee into Reo's stomach. The impact forced the air from Reo's lungs in a sharp gasp. The crowd winced collectively as Garrik hurled Reo into the air, his massive fist following with a brutal punch that sent Reo hurtling toward the arena wall.
Reo's body slammed into the stone with a sickening thud before crumpling to the ground.
The arena shook with the crowd's deafening cheers "Garrik! Garrik!" the students chanted, their voices wild and unrestrained. In the royal chamber, Darius leaned back, a slow grin spreading across his face. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he see Leonhardt's crumpled form.
This is how it should be, he thought.
Lucian's breath caught as he stared down from the viewpoint. Not again, he thought, dread tightening in his chest. I heard about last year, Garrik crushed you—and now this? Then he saw movement.
His eyes widened as Reo stirred, dragging himself up from the sand, blood streaking his lips.
Reo coughed, slowly, he rose, tightening the strap on his black glove.
His stance was loose yet unyielding, a predator unshaken by the storm. The crowd's cheers faltered, uncertainty rippling through their roar as they watched him stand, calm and composed.
In his mind, Elynn's voice chimed.
[Endurance has fallen: 21/29]
[Defense has fallen: 26/31]
[Stamina has fallen: 28/34]
[Internal and external injuries detected. Activate healing protocol? (3/3)]
No, Reo thought sharply, his gaze locking onto Garrik. A faint smirk curled his lips—taunting, daring, alive with menace.
Garrik sneered, veins bulging as he stepped forward. "Still standing? Makes it easier to bury you," he growled.
Reo didn't reply. His stance shifted, relaxed but razor-sharp, a silent challenge. The crowd leaned in with tension.
With a roar, Garrik charged, his gauntlet swung down in a crushing arc, but Reo sidestepped, the fist slamming into the ground with a boom, sending sand flying. Reo countered instantly, his gloved fist snapping into Garrik's ribs, followed by a spinning kick to his flank.
The strikes landed, but Garrik barely flinched, his bulk absorbing the blows.
"Weak!" Garrik bellowed, retaliating with a sweeping backhand. Reo ducked low, the blow grazing his hair, and sprang up inside Garrik's guard, unleashing a flurry of punches—left, right, left.
The spiked knuckles hammered Garrik's chest and jaw, but Garrik swatted them aside, his massive arms swinging like battering rams.
Reo weaved through the onslaught, his movements precise, but Garrik's power pressed him back. A golden fist rocketed downward, and Reo twisted aside—too slow. The gauntlet clipped his shoulder, sending him staggering. Garrik surged forward, relentless, his next strike a brutal uppercut.
Reo crossed his arms, but the force drove him back, his boots skidding across the sand.
Garrik came closer, his gauntlets raised like executioners' blades. Reo darted left, feinting, then lunged with a spinning elbow aimed at Garrik's temple—only for Garrik to block and seized the opening, slamming his fist into Reo's side with a bone-rattling crunch. The impact lifted Reo off his feet, hurling him backward. He twisted mid-air, crashing into the sand, rolling to a stop.
Blood dripped from his mouth as he pushed up, one hand braced against the ground. His breaths were labored, his stomach a furnace of pain, but he rose—slow, steady, unbowed. He spat blood into the dirt, wiping his lips with the back of his glove, and fixed Garrik with a burning gaze.
Then, a sharp voice sliced through the tension. "Young Master Leo!" The cry came from the viewpoint above, ringing with conviction. Heads turned, even Garrik faltering as his gaze darted upward.
Liana stood, her voice boomed across the arena. "Now's the time!"
The arena was alive with whispers, crackling like static.
"What's she on about?"
"Has she gone mad?"
From the opposite side, Lucian gripped the railing tighter, his heart pounding. "Liana…" he whispered, his eyes narrowing as her voice rang out across the arena.
Now the signal has arrived.
"Hey, fatass!" Reo's taunting voice cut through the tension, sharp and mocking, a smug smile tugging at his lips.
Garrik's face twisted in fury. "What are you grinning at, you little—" he growled, his massive fists clenching tighter.
Reo lifted his arm, calmly tightening the strap of his glove. Sparks flickered across the jagged knuckles, faint at first, then building into bright arcs of crackling energy. The air around him thickened, heavy with the charge of mana that appeared to hum through the arena itself.
"Let's finish this," he said, his voice low and calm, thunderous in its weight. He smirked, the snapping arcs of lightning coiling around his glove, alive with power. Elynn, he murmured. Activate skill, Precision Strike.
[Skill:Precision Strike engaged.]
The glove flared to life, electric-blue light surging in jagged pulses across its surface. Energy buzzed and snapped with violent intensity, the spikes on the glove glowing brighter with each passing second. Reo's smirk grew. "I'm done wasting time."
In the next instant, he vanished—his figure dissolving in a blur of light, leaving behind a sizzling trail of sparks. Garrik flinched, his head jerking wildly, searching, but before he could react, Reo reappeared inches from his chest.
Reo's gloved fist hovered just an inch from Garrik's body, crackling with thunderous energy. "Forgot to name this move," Reo mused, his tone light, mocking. "Eh, doesn't matter." The punch landed.
For a heartbeat, nothing moved. Then—detonation.
Thunder Mana burst forth, a blinding flash tearing through the air. Lightning exploded outward like mad, jagged tendrils, illuminating the entire arena.
Sand exploded into the air, and the shockwave slammed outward, pushing the nearest spectators backward, covering their faces. The thunderous blast was deafening, shaking the arena.
Then silence—heavy, crushing silence. Choked by dust and smoke, everyone was held stock-still. In the royal chamber, Princess Thalina stared, her sapphire eyes wide with shock. Selene leaned forward, her calm turned into curiosity. Adrin's usual smirk had vanished, replaced by open disbelief.
Erin's smile grew sharper, her violet eyes glinting as if she had been expecting this. Across the arena, Darius stood rigid, his cold demeanor broken as his narrowed eyes focused on Reo. Even Professor Gidon seemed shaken.
As the haze cleared, the scene came into focus. Garrik was sprawled meters away, his body battered and limp. His golden gauntlets had vanishedmand smoke curled from his broken form.
Reo stood in the center of the devastation, his glove smoldering faintly as sparks of lightning flickered and faded. Slowly, he lowered his arm. He seemed to command the space with nothing more than his stance, a quiet storm impossible to ignore.
Lucian's grip on the railing tightened, his heart pounding with a mix of pride and awe. Liana, standing tall above, looked down with quiet satisfaction, her expression steady.
The crowd didn't cheer. They didn't jeer. They simply staring, frozen in shock.
Reo, his presence dominating the arena, turned away from the battlefield. The crowd watched, breaths caught in their throats as he walked.
But Garrik moved. His trembling hands clawed at the fractured ground, his battered frame struggling to rise. His body screamed defeat, every movement labored, yet he refused to stay down. He lifted his head, blood dripping from his mouth.
Reo paused. He exhaled slowly, tapping his left fist lightly against his temple, closing his eyes as he sighed, as if bored by the sight of Garrik's futile effort.
Then a slow, menacing smile spread across his face, sharp and dangerous.