“Heh, this was supposed to be intimidating, or what?” I said to my friends

“Probably, but they are just a bunch of cowards trying to scare 5-year-old kids,” said Max with his usual grumpy attitude.

“Yea, we will whip those smug faces of theirs to feel how it feels to be defeated by kids.” Said Helen while waving her punch.

“This kind of fits with your ability, whipping their asses.” I said while chuckling.

“That’s why I said it, obviously.”

“Guys, I think they are pretty intimidating.” Said William behind us.

“Shut up, you are making us look bad.” We all said that at the same time.

Riley came beside him and tried to lift his attitude.

We then arrived in front of the instructor.

“Welcome, it seems that our intimidation didn’t work.” Said the instructor while chuckling.

“We may look young and small, but we won’t be intimidated by this.”

“Oh, is that so, then I hope you will show us what you’ve got. May I presume you are the leader of your team?”

“I think you already knew, but yes, I am Lucas Zachary, a name you’ll never forget.”

“I won’t forget it, the way you talk at your age and that look in your eyes are scary enough, but let’s see if you can leave your mark in a good way.”

Then the instructor proceeded with what we would do in today’s class and began explaining what the class consisted of. He said that apart from team fights that we are familiar with, we will have individual fights, and at the end of the week he will average the two and name the ones who will be promoted.

Instructor Frederic was a man in his 40s with a big moustache, a military hat, and a brown walking stick, even though he could walk just fine. His demeanour was at first leisurely, with jokes and stuff, but actually he was a lot more strict that instructor George. He looks like the type of guy who laughs with you while stabbing you from behind at the same time. He gives off a creepy vibe. He was probably a military man with his orders and commands.

The first thing we did in class was physical exercises: running, squats, pull-ups, push-ups, and all those kinds of stuff. He said it was for warming up, but after those, our stamina plummeted to the ground. I can say I was a little better because of the exercises every morning, but I’m not in perfect condition myself.

“Okay, now that you are prepared, let’s get down to business and battle matchups.”

I’m okay with everything; give me your best shot, you twisted bastard.

“Let’s first decide the match-ups for the newcomers. First up is the leader, so Lucas Zachary will go up against Jonathan Grey.”

Okay, I have no idea who that guy is; at least his name doesn’t sound noble.

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So after the ‘duels’ were decided, we got in position to start. My opponent was a guy a year older than me, without any achievements; he just looked imposing because he was older, but that’s all, no distinctive features, just black hair, brown eyes, and a serious face.

I was the first up, so I stayed in the ring face-to-face with Jonathan and waited for the signal to start.

When the battle started, we circled one another, looking for every movement that we made. In a moment, all of the cells in my body tensed up as I saw a big punch smash my face. The punch sent me across the arena, but I managed to stop falling using the last power I had in my legs. Damn it, I can’t breathe, my nose is broken, and the only smell I can distinguish right now is blood—that dammed smell imprinted in my memory from my past life. My vision is getting blurry, and my brain is messed up from the impact, but I have to get up, I won’t lose, I refuse to lose, I won’t go through the feeling of inferiority and regret again. I got up, clenching my fist, carving the nails in my flesh, swallowing the pain in my leg, and activated my ability. My teeth are so gritted that I feel they’re going to break any second, but this doesn’t matter. Now it’s just me and him.

Jonathan Grey

This kid doesn’t feel very tough, but what’s with that face? He’s just standing there with his teeth bared at me, they aren’t white anymore from the blood from his nose trickling into his mouth. He’s looking at me as a predator, as his prey, but why do I feel like I’m in danger and not him. This murderous intent that I’m feeling is really from...from him, but he’s just a kid. No, I can’t lose. I shook my head and took a fighting stance,prepared to deliver another attack. If I don’t go up the ladder, my parents will throw me out of the home and I simply refuse to accept this.

Wait, he’s moving, he’s squeezing his nose to stop the bleeding. This is my chance, he let his guard down. I don’t care if he’s a kid, I can finally beat someone and be recognised.

Lucas Zachary

Why is that guy smiling like a freak? He’s thinking I can’t fight with one arm because of the bleeding. Well, I don’t need two arms. I planted my feet on the ground and lunged towards him. He did the same, so at the moment we were inches away from each other, he tried to make the exact same attack, but I kicked to the side and delivered with my free hand a series of blows to the stomach. He puked from the impact, and as he was trying to regain his balance, I jumped to plant my foot in his face. He managed to lift his fingers to his face, which faced the same fate, putting an end to the fight.

When the fight ended, I almost fell to the ground, but I caught myself by smashing my fist into the ground, with the words from my teachers from my past life resonating in my head: “A fighter never falls to the ground after he wins a battle; no matter how hard and painful, he will stand up to show hope to his people.”