A flurry of punches put Richard in disbelief, Marco's stamina seemed endless, the boxer did not tire. His spiked gloves were not afraid of the sharp scimitars.

The duo kept exchanging blows, and as time went on, one could see them being in a tie. The tall man lacked training, which Marco received in the past, although for competing in a sport. But Richard on his side had the power of the wind, gifted by his contracted spirit. Thanks to them he could both enhance his speed by reducing air friction and even throw wind projectiles at his enemy.

It was true that he was getting tired more quickly than Marco, as his physique wasn't comparable to the athlete's either. Yet he was getting more comfortable with his new powers as well.

At this point, Richard understood that he had to turn the fight up a notch, or in the long term, he would be physically overwhelmed by his opponent. He had to inflict upon his enemy a considerable injury, or he wouldn't be able to keep up the rhythm.

Richard decided to execute his plan, he wanted to improvise a faint followed up by the power of the wind. He blocked Marco's incoming punches as he did before, only this time he 'fell' backward as if being pushed by an incredible force.

'Were my punches this strong? Or maybe he's just really tired and couldn't resist such force this time...'

Deep in thinking, Marco's reasoning didn't last long, he decided to charge forward. The idea of this being a trap did cross his mind, however, he wanted to finish the fight without seriously injuring his opponent as happened to Red. If he could simply knock the enemy unconscious it would be worth the risk.

At least he thought so, maybe a little too naive on his part. You can't expect the enemy to have a mindset on the same wavelength as yours even in your own homeland, at least in Ceres. Men, humanoids, and strange creatures alike joined among the ranks of the council and their native cultures often differed greatly. This has always been a great problem for their army, only to be temporarily solved with strength.

Now Marco was about to learn a valuable lesson, at least it was better now than in the chaos of war.

Richard appeared still in a moment of recollection, slowly getting up from the ground, evidently too shaken to block or dodge the upcoming punch. A string jab on his stomach was closing in, with another one ready for the head in case the first one wasn't enough. Of course, with moderation, Marco knew that a punch in the head wasn't something to throw so casually.

However, at the moment of impact, Marco felt nothing but air, well to be more precise a strong gust of wind. Richard had leaped into the air, aided by his crouched position he leaped into the air, stabbing his sword through Marco's stunned expression. One pierced his left arm side to side, and the other onto his back, inflicting a dangerous wound.

At the same time Richard fell onto the ground like a sack of potatoes, he clearly wasn't much prepared for the aftermath. His bad landing caused his ankle to twist into a bad angle, incapacitating him.

He then limped right in front of Marco, kneeling and painting the arena red with blood. He caressed his butt, still hurting from the fall, and proceeded to take back his scimitars. Probably ignorant of the medical field, he didn't care, together with the spirits, they cost him down the last penny plus a small debt he made with the academy. They were his and for no other to use. In any case, there was also the captain to intervene.

He tightly gripped the sword piercing through Marco's left arm. Yet something stopped him, a firm grip almost crushed his hand. An embarrassingly feminine yell came out of the big man's mouth.

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Marco got up on his feet, a trickle of blood coming out of his mouth. His eyes were blazing with energy, staring directly into Richard's soul. Marco's right fist suddenly charged up, as wild blue lightning circled around it. Before he could even react, Richard's life passed before his eyes, he never experienced such power.

A third party had to intervene here and stop the duel, or else Captain Cole would be losing one good soldier even before going to battle.

A sturdy wall was instantly erected before the punch, just behind it was Cole standing in a defensive position. Yet nobody expected the strike to be as powerful. The thick wall of dirt and tiles from the arena got broken through, parts of it were even being melted from the heat released by the punch.

Eventually, it got interrupted by the knight's own hands. After all the wall he just made was best at dealing with simple physical attacks, but was clearly insufficient to block the power stemming from one's soul.

'I had yet to see Nestor powers before, I cannot say which aspect they were derivative of. But I have already seen something similar to Marco's, only from someone much stronger, unbelievably so.

It must be from the aspect of destruction. If I'm not wrong, he just used the element of lighting, or blue lightning as they call it. Only, his control seemed to be much weaker than Nestor's, he poured everything he had in this one final attempt. Still, it was quite a dangerous move for anyone below the rank of a Knight.'

Many thoughts went through the Captain's head, yet he soon had to stop and announce Marco as the winner of the duel. Luckily Sara and Nick just come back, knowing that more bloodied trainees were on their way.

"Ay, aye Cole! You've gotten more ruthless each time, haven't you? The kid got lucky that the sword didn't pierce his lungs. Be more considerate with your training, or I'd have to inform the principal about this. "

The medical team then carried over Marco's unconscious body. As they left back inside the academy walls, Richard exhaled a deep sigh of despair, they didn't give him back his precious babies.

Still, he was quite thankful on the inside, for without Cole's help he would already be in the afterworld. Or so he thought, he couldn't know that what he just dodged wasn't a simple ticket to nothingness but eternal damnation. It wasn't time yet to learn about such a horrible truth, no, it clearly wasn't or the council would be losing on fundamental resources.

Duels kept going over the arena under Cole's unfazed sight.

'Damn roaches, leeching of the future soldiers of the council. While we're fighting on the frontlines you're here circling around us like vultures, but the nobles won't shield you forever.

Tsk, reporting me to the principal you said huh? A complacent life truly can change everyone, even the most kind of souls. You know why the first week of training is so important, yet...'

Not far from the small arena was Nestor, having partially recovered from his injuries, he decided to exploit this little time he had to cultivate the mantra of 'The lonesome traveler'. It was true that witnessing the fight between the rest of the cadets could be quite insightful for him, and he shouldn't miss such an occasion.

Yet he had remained fascinated by the strength he just employed to win his fight against Red. His opponent had, indeed, been crippled before the match, yet Nestor wasn't a trained fighter. It was the equivalent of a civilian, fighting against a bandit or a hunter.

If not for his soul powers he would have lost without a doubt. He wanted more, he needed this strength.

And so, the world went black again. All around him was now a humid environment. The rocky terrain, and the stale smell of moss, and dirt come to him all at once. Nothing changed from the last time, he simply kept walking forward, never looking back.

Hours passed when he finally saw the light, a small opening in the wall of the cavern let him out in the open. He had been inside of a natural cave o the side of a mountain, as a dense forest welcomed Nestor's sight.

The sweet rays of light prickling on his skin gave him butterflies. Not for much though, as he realized that was his imagination playing tricks on him.

The placebo effect gave him such an illusion, but this sun wasn't like back on Earth. It wasn't easy to explain, but only the colors and textures resembled it. A cheap imitation.

'I guess it's better than nothing, but I really do miss the sun, Its warm and gentle rays. Though, I would like to know why Ceres' white sun isn't doing its work.'

While admiring the scenery, Nestor started walking down the forest, through the tall grass wary of who knows what creature he might encounter. Khopesh at hand, he slashed here and there to make his way through the thick plants.