I can’t believe I basically wasted my whole day on fighting randoms when I should have just seeked out the people who clearly looked like they were behind some big names. I feel so damn stupid not thinking about it. As the referee signaled the start of the next round, I shifted my weight from foot to foot, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline.
Ryuto advanced with determination, his eyes narrowing as he tried to regain the upper hand. His attacks were quick, a series of sharp jabs and low kicks aimed to destabilize me. But I was ready. Each of his moves was a memory, each strike a lesson I had already learned. I dodged, sidestepping a powerful roundhouse kick, and countered with a swift jab to his midsection, using his momentum against him.
Show me some more~
I continued with the back and forth, trying to get him to show me more of his techniques. He threw an attack, I dodged and gave a counter. Rinse and repeat.
Ryuto’s frustration mounted with every maneuver he attempted and every counter I deployed. I could see it in the tightening of his jaw and the increasingly desperate flurries of his attacks. Despite this, I couldn't help but smile, this was exactly what I had been looking for all day.
His next sequence caught my attention, it was different, more refined than his previous efforts. A beautifully executed feint that led into a spinning back kick. It was a risky move that left him momentarily exposed, but the technique was solid, revealing a level of training that went beyond the basics.
I barely managed to block in time, the impact sending a shudder up my arms. "That’s a nice one," I muttered, genuinely impressed. I used the moment his balance faltered to press my advantage, intensifying my attacks to test his defenses further, seeking any sign of weakness.
Suddenly, he unveiled another move. Ryuto lowered his body, feigning a lower body uppercut, then surged forward, his body flipping with one leg arrowing upward in an axe kick. I sidestepped, anticipating the trajectory, but to my surprise, he altered the kick mid-air, spinning his body to transform the move into a sweeping leg attack.
The fluidity and unexpected change in his technique took me momentarily off guard, reinforcing my need to remain vigilant and adaptable. Each move he made was just a beautiful meal handed to me to consume.
As Ryuto regained his footing and prepared for another assault, I felt a spark of inspiration, a quick study of his last few maneuvers now burned bright in my mind. I had memorized the muscle movements, the shift in weight, the exact timing. It was my turn to take the initiative.
Mirroring his earlier feint, I executed a spinning back kick with precision, mimicking his form to a tee. The surprise on Ryuto's face was evident as he barely managed to dodge, his eyes widening in recognition of his own moves being used against him.
"Ah so this is what made you so confident," I taunted lightly, keeping the mood competitive but friendly. “I want to try something.”
I pushed forward, adopting the hybrid stance he had shown me, my body lowering in anticipation of replicating the axe kick. As I flipped into the kick, I watched Ryuto instinctively move to the sidestep, just as I had.
But this time, I added my twist, mid-air, I switched directions, converting the axe kick into a sweeping motion aimed not where he initially stood but where he would likely retreat. It was a gamble, relying on his reaction to my earlier observations.
Ryuto stumbled, unprepared for the sudden change, his leg caught by mine as I completed the sweep. He landed hard on the mat, the thud echoing slightly in the sudden silence of our audience. The referee then called a stop to the second round, allowing us both a moment to regroup.
Ryuto looked at me with a mixture of shock and confusion, clearly taken aback by how quickly I had adapted his technique. I couldn't help but grin, the thrill of the challenge making me feel like I'd just discovered a hidden cheesecake in the fridge when I’m sneaking into the kitchen at 12 AM.
Turning to head back to my corner, I noticed Chronos standing there, inexplicably donning a flat cap and a towel draped over one shoulder, his arms crossed. He nodded his approval, playing the part of a stereotypical boxing coach. Where he got the hat, I had no idea, but his pose made me stifle a laugh.
This is martial arts, shouldn’t you instead have your hands behind your back and give subtle nods?
Chronos caught my amused glance and just shrugged, as if to say, "Why not have a little fun with it?"
The referee signaled the start of the next round, I reset my stance, energized by the growing crowd’s renewed murmurs. I felt a renewed focus sharpen my senses. Ryuto, slightly winded and visibly more cautious, eyed me warily as he circled, likely reconsidering his approach.
He attempted to regain control, launching a swift combination that had caught previous opponents off-guard. This time, I was ready. I parried his jab, sidestepped his follow-up kick, and, mirroring his earlier technique, launched into the spinning back kick I had just learned from him. The move connected solidly, sending him staggering back towards the edge of the mat.
Ryuto recovered quickly, his expression hardening as he now completely understood I was now using his own techniques against him. He charged forward, perhaps out of frustration or the desperate hope to overpower me before I could mimic any more of his style.
As he came in, I ducked under a wide hook and countered with the modified axe kick to leg sweep combo I had observed. The sweep wasn’t as polished as his, but it was effective enough to throw him off balance. As he tried to stabilize, I used the momentum to execute a takedown, grounding him with a firm hold.
The referee quickly intervened, signaling the end of the match as Ryuto found himself unable to break free from my hold. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, some in shock at the turn of events, others thrilled by the display of skill and adaptability.
I extended a hand to help Ryuto to his feet, offering a nod. "Good match," I said, hoping to smooth over any tension.
He looked at me, disbelief in his eyes, and finally nodded back, "I owe you an apology for my earlier remarks," he admitted, bowing deeply. "The Hidden Leaf School teaches us to recognize our shortcomings and learn from our losses. Thank you for this lesson; I will reflect on our bout."
I raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by his formality. "I’m glad we could learn from each other," I responded, mirroring his bow with a fist pressed to my palm.
Straightening up, he added, "I was unaware you were versed in the Hidden Leaf techniques. Had I known, I might have approached this differently."
That explained his initial overconfidence. Whether he truly believed it would have changed the outcome or not, he seemed keen on maintaining some dignity. "Right…" I replied, managing an awkward smile.
"I wish you good luck in the semifinals," Ryuto said, bowing again before returning to his group. As I watched him go, I caught a few icy stares from his entourage, but I shrugged them off.
Turning back to Chronos, I found him removing his theatrical cap, grinning broadly. "Now this is what I was hoping to see."
"It’s clear why you wanted me in this competition," I remarked. "This was to give me a taste of martial arts at my level, wasn't it?"
"Ding ding ding, correct!" Chronos slapped my back, his eyes twinkling with pride. "It pained me to see those dagger looks you gave me when I withheld new techniques."
“Can you blame me? I wanted to learn from you directly, but you kept putting me off with 'once you awaken, we can talk.'”
Chronos’s smile turned wistful. “Patience, Rai. All in good time. For now, let’s focus on getting you through to the semifinals.”
The semifinals were set on a grander stage. With fewer competitors left, the organizers had removed the extra mats, leaving only the central one illuminated under the arena lights. The crowd had swelled, filling the stands with a buzz of anticipation. Among them, I spotted several figures who stood out with their poised demeanors and keen observations, clearly Ascendants or martial masters, likely scouting talent for their respective guilds or schools.
Just as the atmosphere started to thicken with the weight of impending bouts, Chronos excused himself. "Be right back, need to use the restroom," he muttered, picking an inconvenient time as usual.
No sooner had he stepped away than I felt the space around me compress with the presence of several individuals approaching. Somewhere solo, exuding an air of authority and interest, while others came in small groups, whispering among themselves before turning their attention to me.
"Raiden Alaric, right?" one of them, a tall woman with sharp eyes and a badge indicating her affiliation with the Silver Crane School, addressed me directly. "I've been watching your matches. Impressive adaptability."
"Thank you," I responded, trying to keep my composure despite feeling slightly cornered without Chronos's familiar presence to fend off such interactions.
Another, a robust man adorned with symbols of the Tiger's Paw Guild, chimed in with a grin that was all teeth. "Not just adaptable, but clever too. How would you like to consider an offer to train with us? We specialize in enhancing natural talents, turning them into unbeatable skills."
Before I could formulate a reply, a third voice cut through, smoother and more controlled. "He hasn't even finished the tournament, and you're already trying to claim him," said a lean individual in dark robes, his insignia a subtle nod to the Shadowed Path sect. "Let the boy breathe."
I managed a half-smile, feeling the pull of their words like tides trying to sweep me into their currents. It was flattering, yet overwhelming. "I appreciate the interest, really," I said, taking a step back to regain some personal space. "But I think I should focus on today's matches before thinking about anything else."
They nodded, some more reluctantly than others, and receded just as Chronos made his way back, eyeing the dispersing crowd with a raised eyebrow. "Making friends or turning down offers?" he joked, clapping me on the shoulder.
"No they were all just flirting with me, can’t resist my dashing good looks," I laughed, watching the arena floor as the preparations for the semifinals were finalized. "I suppose I should start getting used to that kind of attention after I awaken, huh?"
“Without a doubt,” he said. “Once you awaken and attend an academy it’s like a masters degree to recruiters. Even more so if you get into one of the bigger academies.”
“I noticed you had an Elysium hoodie on when we met. Did you attend there?”
He shook his head, “No, I know plenty of people who had attended and even some who teach there.”
“Oh? Does this mean I have an in if I decide to attend?” I wiggled my eyebrows and nudged him with my shoulder.
“Ha, you wish. There’s no way I’m going to give you the easy path.” He clapped my shoulder, “I will be sure everything you obtain is earned, not given.”
I shrugged my shoulders, “Well can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Speaking of earning,” Chronos continued as he surveyed the now busy arena, “this next match is going to be quite the show. You’ve got some serious competition coming up.”
I glanced towards the mat, where the previous contestants were clearing off and the next pair was already setting up. Among them was my opponent, an elf girl shorter than me. She was clad in a green robe adorned with a family insignia, a clear sign she hailed from a renowned family sect. Her long blonde hair, typical of her kind, was tied back in a tight ponytail, swaying slightly as she moved with the elegant, almost ethereal grace unique to elves. Her eyes were a striking deep green, almost mirroring the bold green nail polish that decorated her elongated, delicate fingers, a typical trait of her race. I found myself wondering if the vivid color was intentional, perhaps a subtle tactic to distract her opponents.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
As I surveyed the crowd and the contestants warming up, I noticed a surprising number of female participants. Turning to Chronos, I asked, "Hey so I didn’t really think about it until now but, why are there so many girls at this contest? Doesn’t seem like the usual breakdown."
Chronos followed my gaze, nodding slightly. "Ah, you’ve picked up on that. In most sports, men and women compete separately due to physical differences, but here, it's different. These martial arts competitions have started to blend the categories. The reason is simple: once competitors awaken, those physical disparities tend to even out. Their aura doesn't care about gender."
I considered his words, looking back at the participants. "So, they’re just ripping off the band-aid early, huh? Getting everyone used to competing against each other now because the biological differences won’t matter later?"
"Exactly," Chronos affirmed. "It’s about skill, strategy, and your aura's capabilities. Here, everyone is on a more equal footing once they awaken. Plus, it prepares them for real-world situations. No one's going to care about gender if you're in a skirmish or a mission."
I nodded, understanding the practicality behind the decision. It was a leveling of the playing field in the most literal sense, and it gave everyone, regardless of gender, a fair shot to showcase their skills and adaptability.
"Fair enough," I muttered.
As I waited for my turn, I watched a match between two skilled contenders, both demonstrating an array of complex maneuvers. One technique caught my eye, a fluid, spiraling dodge that ended in a swift, powerful counterattack. The fighter's body moved with such grace and precision that it seemed almost effortless.
I leaned in, trying to dissect each movement. The dodge involved a twisting motion that not only avoided the attack but also positioned the fighter perfectly to exploit his opponent’s now exposed side. It was clever, using the opponent's momentum against them.
I wanna fight him.
I rubbed my chin, intrigued. "Chronos, did you see that? How he spun around? What’s that move called?"
Chronos glanced at the mat, then back at me. "That’s a variant of the whirlwind counter. It’s all about timing and positioning. By rotating away from the attack, you use the attacker's force to your advantage, setting them off balance while you prepare for a counterstrike."
"Interesting," I muttered, filing the move away in my mental arsenal. I didn’t fully grasp the mechanics from just watching, I needed to feel it, experience the motion and the precise timing myself to truly understand and mimic it. But it gave me something new to think about, a puzzle to work out later.
As the match concluded, I clapped along with the crowd, impressed yet frustrated. Seeing such skills in action was inspiring, yet it underscored my own limitations from the sidelines. "I need to try that out," I murmured, more to myself than to Chronos.
Finally, my number was called, and I made my way to the mat where my next opponent was already waiting. It was an elf girl I had noticed earlier, the one with the long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her deep green eyes focused intently on me, and even her green nail polish seemed to catch the light in a way that was almost distracting.
I should have put money on it.
As I approached the center of the mat, I tried to keep my thoughts organized, remembering the whirlwind counter I had just observed. "Interesting choice with the nail polish," I commented, hoping to gauge her reaction and maybe knock her off her mental game for a moment.
She simply smiled, not taking the bait. "It’s not for distraction, if that’s what you’re thinking. It's a family tradition. We wear green during competitions. Good luck, Raiden."
She knows my name?
The referee brought us to the center, and as we bowed to each other, I felt the tension tighten. The crowd’s murmurs faded into the background, leaving only the sound of our breathing and the soft shuffle of our feet on the mat.
"Ready?" the referee asked. We both nodded, and the match began.
She was quick, her movements sharp and deliberate. As we exchanged blows, I found myself on the defensive more than I liked. She used a combination of swift jabs and calculated footwork to keep me off balance, her technique polished and precise.
It was during one of her aggressive advances that I saw an opportunity. Recalling the whirlwind counter, I attempted to mimic the motion, spinning to use her momentum against her. However, my execution was rough since I didn’t get to experience it first hand. I managed to avoid her strike but missed the chance to counter effectively.
She paused, a slight frown on her face, then launched into another series of attacks, this time with increased intensity. I needed to adapt quickly, to turn the tide before I found myself completely overwhelmed.
As we reset our stances, I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow and looked at her curiously. "You know my name, so I’m assuming we met before?" I asked casually.
She shook her head with a slight chuckle, her ponytail swaying gently. "No, we haven’t met personally. But you’ve made quite a name for yourself today, Raiden Alaric. It’s hard not to notice when someone causes as much stir as you have."
I nodded, accepting her explanation but still feeling a twinge of suspicion about how closely she or perhaps others had been watching. It reminded me that in a competition like this, eyes were everywhere, and every action was scrutinized. "I want to say I understand but I have no clue what it is I did to ‘cause any stir’," I responded with a half-smile, readying myself for the next exchange. "Oh well we can talk about it after the competition, you like froyo?"
She mirrored my smile, her eyes glinting with competitive spirit. "Oh? Asking me on a date so soon? We only just met," she said, and then without warning, lunged forward, initiating another fast-paced flurry of moves.
Wait just a minute, did… did I see her ears twitch?
Her move caught me off guard, not because it was unexpected, but because of the smooth way she shifted from our playful banter to serious competition in a heartbeat. "Is this how you respond to confessions?" I grunted, parrying her rapid strikes, each one sharper than the last. "I'll take that as a maybe!"
Ducking under a particularly swift roundhouse kick, I couldn't help but appreciate the skill she displayed. It was clear she wasn't just any competitor; her form was impeccable, each move deliberate and calculated to test my defenses.
I am going to steal everything you have.
As we danced around the mat, her style became a puzzle I was eager to solve. She mixed traditional martial arts with unpredictable feints, keeping me on my toes. "You’re not making this easy," I panted, finding an opening to counterattack, aiming a controlled jab towards her shoulder.
"Wouldn't want to," she replied breathlessly, dodging with a fluid movement that brought her momentarily closer. "Where's the fun in that?"
Then her demeanor shifted dramatically. The playful banter ceased instantly as she launched into a full-on assault, her strikes flowing into a grapple that caught me by surprise. As she maneuvered to lock in a hold, my perception of time seemed to dilate. Each second stretched longer as my adrenaline surged, sharpening my focus to a razor's edge.
Her technique was refined, each movement layered with practiced skill and intent. As she tried to pin me down, my training with Chronos kicked in, and my mind raced to decode her strategy, every muscle and shift in balance under scrutiny. This was it, the challenge I craved, the kind of fight that set my blood alight with excitement.
I couldn't suppress the grin that spread across my face, nor the chuckle that escaped me despite our tangled struggle. "Now we're talking!" I exclaimed, my voice bubbling with laughter even as I started to counter her moves. Each of her attempts to secure a hold became a lesson I absorbed instantly, turning her tactics back against her with my rapidly adapting style.
She tightened her grip, perhaps sensing my growing confidence, but it only fueled my exhilaration further. I twisted, leveraging my body against hers, using her own momentum to break free. The crowd's noise faded into the background, replaced by the thumping of my heart and the crisp sound of our movements on the mat.
As we separated, I bounced back on the balls of my feet, ready for her next move, my laughter mingling with the breathless intensity of the match. "Come on, show me more!" I urged, eager to push the limits of what we could both draw out of this encounter.
Her eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and renewed determination, a silent acknowledgment of the challenge accepted. She lunged again, and our dance resumed, a whirlwind of motion that tested every reflex and skill I possessed.
The match intensified as she adjusted her tactics, likely realizing that standard moves wouldn't suffice. She launched a series of low sweeps aimed to destabilize, followed by high, precise kicks, each designed to catch an opponent off-guard. But with each attack, I felt less like her opponent and more like a student eagerly absorbing every lesson offered.
Her footwork was exceptional, a blend of traditional martial arts and something uniquely her own, likely developed from her family's teachings. As she spun, her leg arced through the air in a high kick aimed directly at my head. I ducked under it, but instead of merely evading, I mirrored the movement, my body instinctively copying the fluidity of her kick. The crowd gasped, some in awe, others in shock, as I used her own technique against her, my leg sweeping up in a near-perfect replica of her attack.
She stumbled back, eyes widening in realization that her techniques were not only being countered but replicated and adapted on the fly. "Impressive," she muttered, reassessing her approach but keeping her stance aggressive.
I couldn't help but grin, the thrill of the challenge pushing me further. "You're not bad yourself," I replied. "Don’t stop now, keep it up, show me more!"
Using the momentum from our exchange, I initiated a sequence we had drilled in training, a deceptive move that started as a feint to the left, followed by a swift, pivoting strike to the right. It was a technique I'd seen used by another competitor earlier in the day, one that I had mentally noted but hadn't had the chance to test out until now.
Her reaction was quick, but not quick enough to completely dodge the strike. The impact was light, more of a tap to confirm I could make contact than a full-powered hit, but it sent a clear message.
As we circled each other, waiting for an opening, I continued to weave her techniques into my movements, each one a building block in my rapidly expanding arsenal. She attempted a grappling maneuver, likely aiming to take the fight to the ground where she could leverage her jiu-jitsu training.
But grappling was Chronos's bread and butter, and through his rigorous training, I'd become adept at turning such situations to my advantage. He wouldn’t show me any combat but he did not shy away in the slightest when it came to grappling and wrestling.
“Grappling and throwing a punch are different things, so don’t give me that look.” I thought back to what he said after I had asked him why he would should me this and not spar with me.
As she reached for my arm, I sidestepped, redirecting her momentum and using her own force to spin her off-balance. Before I could go any further the end of the first round was ended by the sound of a whistle. The crowd shouted after seeing our exchange. I could feel the gazes of many individuals.
As she staggered slightly from the unexpected redirection, I flashed a grin, both acknowledging the round's end and signaling my readiness for whatever came next. "You’re pretty awesome," I called across to her, my voice echoing slightly in the suddenly quiet arena, filled only with the murmurs of an impressed audience.
She nodded, a wry smile breaking through her initially stern facade. "You're not too shabby yourself, Raiden. Didn’t expect you to pick up on my techniques so quickly," she admitted, her tone mixed with respect and a challenge for the rounds to come.
The brief interlude between rounds felt like a charged pause, giving both of us a moment to reassess and plan. I used the time to mentally review the techniques she had used, integrating them with what I’ve obtained. Each move, each counterplay I envisioned, sharpened my focus for the next bout.
As the referee called us back to the center, the anticipation was palpable. I could see the determination set in her eyes, a mirror of my own resolve. The crowd seemed to lean in closer, their excitement building as the second round commenced.
This time, I initiated the engagement, employing a feint that Chronos had drilled into me until it had become second nature. Her reaction was swift, but this time I was ahead, anticipating her block and countering with an improvised move that blended her own strategy with the techniques I had absorbed from watching others throughout the day.
The dance of our fight drew cheers and gasps from the crowd, each of us pushing the limits of our training. With every move and counter, I felt a thrill, the pure joy of testing my skills in real combat, under the scrutinizing eyes of potential mentors and rivals alike.
As the round progressed, our exchanges grew more intense. Then, she landed a hit, a sharp jab that I hadn’t seen coming, its impact jolting through me. The surprise of the contact sent a rush of adrenaline surging through my veins, and I couldn’t help it. I started laughing, the sound mingling with the roars of the crowd. The thrill of the challenge, the sheer joy of the fight, it was all I had been craving.
I tasted blood in my mouth, the smile on my face refusing to fade. I shifted my stance, now I’m going on the offensive. She came at me again, her movements a blur of speed and precision, but this time I was ready. As she attempted another grapple, likely aiming to use her momentum to force me down, I countered, using her own force against her.
Let’s wrap this up.
Stepping aside as she lunged forward, I seized the opportunity to counter her momentum. In a fluid motion, I managed to maneuver behind her, hooking my arm around hers. Guiding her to the mat, I carefully positioned her on her side while securing her arm in a kimura lock. With my grip firm but controlled, I applied gradual pressure, ensuring her arm was bent behind her back in the submission.
Pinned beneath me, her options dwindled rapidly as the realization of her precarious situation set in. The crowd's roar became a distant hum as we reached a few seconds of tense stillness on the mat. Recognizing the futility and risk of further resistance, she gave a firm tap against my arm, signaling her submission. The referee was quick to respond, stepping in to officially end the bout, his call echoing over the loud cheers and shocked murmurs of the crowd. This match was my win.
As I released the hold and helped her to her feet, the intensity of the match lingered in the air. "Good match," I said, offering a respectful nod, acknowledging her skill and the challenge she presented. She nodded back, a flicker of respect passing between us despite the outcome.
She turned away and began walking. As I began to do the same she tossed a remark over her shoulder, “Well since you won, I guess you are taking me out for froyo?”
I almost froze at her words, but because I didn’t I decided to play it cool, “Since you managed to find my name, I’m sure you can find a way to get my number too.”
She stopped, turning back with a playful smirk that matched my own. "Well in that case, I’ll talk to you soon," she said, before continuing on her way, leaving a trail of laughter behind her.
As I made my way to Chronos he slapped me on my back again, “My man.”
I smiled and flexed my hands, “It was a good fight, a really good fight. I wanted to keep going.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Huh? Oh yeah the fight was great, I was talking about your new elf friend there. So when should I start calling her Mrs. Al-.”
"Oh look, it’s Yuki! Let’s watch her match," I quickly diverted, eager to avoid further teasing.