Dustin jabbed at the air a few times before assuming a stance.

Taking a deep breath, he put all his force into his fist and punched the sandbag.

*Pa!*

The device shook, and a loud sound reverberated throughout the hall.

The tablet lit up like before, and the numbers on it started jumping up again.

"Wow."

Looking at the score, Emil couldn't help but voice his amazement.

Dustin bowed at a nonexistent audience.

"It's alright, no need to clap, I feel humbled."

He scored 12, which was rare even among First-Grade Knights. Worth noting though, was that he was at the Third Order, so him having a stronger body was a given.

That didn't reduce the feat's difficulty in Emil's eyes though.

He knew just how far he was from the other Knights now.

He'd have to refine his body enough to become a First-Class Knight, and even go beyond by making his normal body match an augmented body's strength.

Such feat wasn't possible for normal people, but if Emil really was a Magical Beast, then he'd have more than enough genetic potential.

He had the means to reach his goal too. The Lava Pool, Body Tempering Tablets, normal cultivation, there were even Elixirs he could take for assistance.

"Hmph, you think twelve is impressive?"

A male voice disturbed Emil's thoughts.

Dustin's face fell upon recognizing the source.

"Look who's here, the Fatty himself, Randolf."

The person in question was furious upon hearing the snide remark.

"How many times have I told you? I'm not fat, I'm big-boned! Call me fat one more time and I'll have it for you, Fuckface."

He threatened, his large body towering over Emil and Dustin's.

"Fatass."

Dustin responded, not missing a beat, unfazed by the fatty's threats.

"Now you're asking for it!"

Enraged, Randolf summoned his sword and shield with a jerk and jumped his nemesis.

Dustin didn't wait around. he summoned weapons of his own, and raised his sword to meet his foe head on.

*Clang*

The two swords crossed, and the two people were pushed back equally.

The fatty wasn't alone, he was with two other people, who proceeded to hold him off in an effort to break the fight.

Seeing this, Emil did the same, placing himself before Dustin.

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"Chill out Dustin, no one wins an unofficial fight within the Academy grounds. If you wanna fight then challenge him to a duel."

Dustin's eyes shifted between Randolf and Emil as those words entered his ears, before taking a deep breath and sheathing his sword.

"Yeah you're right.

Good thing you stopped me otherwise I don't what I would've done to that bastard."

He said to Emil, his voice loud enough for Randolf to hear.

"Yeah yeah get the hell outta my way. I wanna use the machine."

Emil looked back, only to see Randolf moving over.

Brown eyes and hair, just like Dustin, 6'3 tall and weighing over 150Kgs. calling him 'Big-Boned' would be an understatement.

The punching machine was soon reactivated, with Randolf placed next to it.

Raising his chubby fist, he punched it.

*Pa!*

Another deafening sound, slightly louder than last time spread through the hall.

3, 5, 8, 10, 12.

The number eventually landed on 12.5.

"You see that Fuckface? That's what a real punch's like."

Randolf's chest was puffed, proud as a peacock.

"Hah! half a point extra, that thanks to the fat rolls too.

come to the Whack Machine if you got balls." Dustin spoke as he crossed his arms nonchalantly, waiting for fatty to take the bait.

Randolf's beady eyes enlarged, and his face once again twisted into an unsightly expression, burning with rage. This time though, he calmed himself down by summoning a bag of chips and shoving a fistful in his mouth.

"Let's go!"

***

*Pa!*

The punching bag was sent flailing with Dustin's kick.

13, was shown on the tablet next to it.

Dustin crossed his arms and smirked at Randolf, proud of his handiwork.

Without a word, Randolf walked over and reactivated the machine.

Joining his two hands together, he made one giant fist and sent it towards the bag under everyone's eyes.

*Pa!*

Just like last time, the bag was sent flailing around. But the force of the attack was weaker than before, evident by the 12.8 written on the tablet.

Dustin chuckled.

"Kekeke, if not for your eye-glaring belly I'd think you're a little girl.

Then again even a little girl would hit harder."

Randolf squinted, his fat cheeks covering his beady eyes.

"Just shut up and follow me to the Grading Pillar, Fuckface."

Dustin's laugh was cut short as the fatty and his minions started to move.

Glancing at Dustin's face, Emil finally realized why Randolf was calling him Fuckface.

He was been referring to the scar running down his left cheek, more likely than not.

"Look at this bastard."

Dustin muttered through clenched teeth as he followed, his eyes burning a hole in Randolf's back.

He'd gut the fatty right there and then if possible, Emil took a guess.

It made him wonder, what's the reason behind this hatred?

Dustin was a calm, collected and well-mannered person who'd always wear a gentle smile when speaking to you.

He didn't seem like the kind of guy who'd hold a grudge with someone, at least based on the impression Emil had.

His change of attitude upon meeting Randolf, however, was quite contradictory. The grudge the two had, it couldn't have been a mere trifle.

After a short walk, the group reached their destination.

You could only punch the Punching Machine while any sort of bodily attack was allowed on the Whack Machine.

With the Grading Pillar though, there were no restrictions.

Augmentation, spells, weapons, everything was allowed here. Students were to use their strongest attack on it and grade their power.

That was precisely what Randolf was doing.

Taking his sword out, he augmented his arms and cast a buff spell on himself before slashing at the pillar.

*Ding!*

The sword and the pillar collided, sending gusts of air flying in every direction.

21.3.

"Way to go Randolf."

"You rock."

Randolf's minions cheered on him, while he himself wore a jovial smile, satisfied at the results.

His beady eyes turned towards Dustin.

"You wanna give it a go? I'll tell you beforehand, you can't top that."

"Shut up."

Without sparing the fatty even a glance, Dustin walked to the pillar and summoned his sword.

Gripping it with both hands, he augmented his body and cast a spell, before raising his arms and slashing at the pillar.

*Ding!*

An airwave, equally powerful as before blasted in every direction.

However, the results were slightly different.

"Sheesh, that was awesome Dustin."

Seeing Randolf's minions cheering on him earlier, Emil felt like he should give some encouragement too.

Dustin himself wasn't feeling too well with a score of 20.1.

It was only a 1.2 point difference, but a loss was a loss and he wasn't planning to settle for it.

"To Combat Simulation!"

Dustin barked, his feet already moving again.

He didn't need to wait for a reply, he knew the fatty wouldn't shy away from a challenge.

Emil looked at the group's departing silhouette, and then at the night sky outside.

His lips parted, and a small sigh sounded out.

How much longer was this gonna go on for?

He didn't know.