Lifting his spear over his shoulder one last time, Peter gathered the remaining strength of his meager cultivation base. Explosively, every muscle in his body erupted with the will to pierce the spear through Harry’s spear tree and into him. Carried by this single intent, Peter’s weapon flew from his hand, right towards Harry.
Once again, Harry was caught by surprise. A scream echoed through the air as everyone beheld Peter’s grey and yellow spear embedded through Harry’s abdomen half way up the shaft. However, Peter was not fast enough, and was pierced by Harry’s martial skill numerous times before it was stopped.
Quickly, the judge confirmed the condition of the two students. Although Peter had several severe injuries, none of them were close to Harry’s injury. Thus, he decided Peter as the winner of the match and called for the medical team on standby.
With the match called in his favor, Peter fell to his knees, exhausted and injured. Two figures flashed from the audience, and made their way to his side.
“Peter!” Adeline cried out before she shook the boy’s shoulders.
“Hey… I won,” he responded faintly, as he looked at her face.
Then, he fell into her arms, suddenly weak and unable to move. All the adrenaline had finally been washed out of his body, leaving him an exhausted husk. His eyes drifted to meet Garth’s, and in that moment a silent word was exchanged. As Peter was carried away, Garth solemnly nodded, before resuming his nonchalant attitude while comforting Adeline.
In their seats, Gregory and Merlin were scrutinizing Garth’s expression, looking for anything that might give away his fury, worry, or anything. However, much to their surprise, there was no crack in Garth’s attitude at all, leaving them to wonder just how much he really valued his friend that had just been terribly wounded. The rest of the day ended without many incidents. Although a few students got injured, it was nowhere near the level of Peter’s match with Harry.
The next day, Garth simply waited in the stands for Gregory and Merlin to make their next move. Since Adeline was the daughter of the Headmaster, they probably wouldn’t mess with her, so their next target would logically be him. But Garth was a tough opponent, and a freak genius of their generation. Most likely, the schemers would have to come out of the dark and challenge him themselves.
Half the day passed, uneventfully. Garth took a glance at the duo in their seats, and noticed them return a cold look. The corner of Garth’s mouth raised slightly as he laughed to himself. It was clear that these two were waiting for Garth to use his strength before challenging him, giving them more of a chance at victory. Naturally, Garth wasn’t going to do something as low as what Harry did, so the only choice was to battle it out with the number one freshman: Marcus Adams.
“They say the ‘mantis stalks the cicada unaware of the oriole behind,’” Garth murmured to himself, “but what if the mantis is aware?”
Adeline, who was beside him, glanced in his direction quizzically. Nodding his head, Garth affirmed his decision and walked to the challenger registration desk. Filling out the form and returning it to the teacher in charge, Garth made his way back to his seat. This action did not go unnoticed by Gregory and Merlin, who sank into deep discussion.
Another round of matches were displayed, before finally, “… Rank 216, Garth Franklin challenges rank 215, Marcus Adams…”
Immediately, Adeline was able to see what was going on. She gave a hard glare at the two troublemakers across the coliseum, and then a helpless and worried gaze at Garth. A smile crept up the boy’s face, as warmth spread through his heart. Garth was an orphan, so the thing he wanted the most was family, and his friends had given that to him. So, when one of his friends gets injured simply because the other party couldn’t take any loss of face, you could be sure that Garth was furious.
With a chuckle, Garth patted Adeline on the head and headed down to the stage. Along the way, his warm and friendly face became serious. Finally arriving, he looked across the platform at the youth that was his opponent: Marcus Adams.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The Adams Family was another of the Great Families, and Marcus was the genius second son of the Family Head. Although his elder brother would be the one to inherit the position, the family carried high hopes in Marcus being the “second front.” His brother would be their leader, while Marcus would be their symbol and protector. Sadly, Marcus’ brother, Jason, was extremely jealous of Marcus’ talent, so the brothers didn’t get along very well.
Marcus was a stout, well-muscled young boy. He was tall for his age, and equally broad. Although he was only seven, Marcus had a mature and serious aura around him. All of this, paired with his uncommon and piercing brown eyes, as well as his bronze skin and short, black hair, made him look like a hero. Everyone knew that this boy would surely become a dragon amongst men when he grew older.
No words were exchanged as the two boys took up their fighting positions. Neither used a weapon of any kind. The judge’s hand rose and fell, and immediately the two disappeared from their original positions. As they rushed to meet each other, two powerful cultivation auras spread: one of the third stage and one of the peak of the second. Gasps were heard around the coliseum, as some stood in shock.
“He’s at the third stage! Marcus broke through to the third stage of cultivation!” a freshman exclaimed.
Even the upper classmen, who viewed such level as child’s play and only came to enjoy the show, were shocked. Although all of them had reached higher cultivation levels, Marcus’ progress speed was astounding, and some of the second graders feared that they would soon be overtaken. Back on the stage, Garth furrowed his brow slightly.
It seems that this isn’t going to go as smoothly as planned, he thought to himself.
Finally, the two planted their feet in the middle of the ring. Marcus’ left fist snapped in a quick jab at Garth’s face. As he ducked under the blow, Garth returned the favor with an elbow to the ribs. Likewise, Marcus deftly dodged with a spin and brought a chopping right palm down on Garth’s head. In this fashion, the match continued and the pace steadily rose. Quickly, those of the first, and even the second, stage were unable to see anything more than a blur in the middle of the stage.
Suddenly, an explosion resounded from the stage, and Garth was pushed back a couple steps, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. Marcus took the advantage, and again stepped into Garth’s chest and let loose his right palm. Seeing the situation, Garth gritted his teeth. With a roar, Garth threw four punches in a burst. Two made contact with Marcus’ palm, deflecting the attack, while the other two exploded on his chest. This time, it was Marcus’ turn to cough up blood as he stumbled back. Looking at Garth, he suddenly smiled as his eyes burned with a competitive light.
“Interesting,” Marcus laughed.
Abruptly, a heavy sword appeared in front of the child prodigy, coming from his storage ring. Of course, although domineering, Marcus’ physique was still that of a seven year old. Thus, the heavy sword was made to fit his stature, and could only be said to be a pseudo heavy sword.
Pointing his weapon at Garth, Marcus continued, “I deem you worthy of meeting my blade.”
Garth snorted and crossed his arms as he replied, “Don’t be so full of yourself.”
Once again, Garth turned into a shadow as he dashed to meet Marcus. Seeing this, Marcus’ grin grew wider.
“Come, let me see how you fare,” he said.
As Garth darted towards Marcus, he hoisted the heavy sword over his head. Finally, just as the two met, Marcus unleashed a powerful downward slash. Upon the impact, the stage completely shattered. Dust and debris spread in a cloud, hiding the results of the clash within.