Van shook his head from where he stood and warned the showman, “It’s not a good idea to fight him, Red.”

“Quiet down, Van,” the showman whispered. “I’m in the zone.”

Van fell silent. Again, Red’s nonsensical words had thrown him for a loop. He was now convinced Red was confusing him on purpose as some sort of display of dominance, causing him to grit his teeth with the realization.

Rose and the others attempted to pull Red back, but none could budge him, neither with their words nor with their strength. Red stood firm like a pole firmly planted in the ground, immovable.

Putting both his hands on his sword, the Alabaster Champion harnessed more strength and with that power, he sent Ace flying with a full swing of his might. Jack shouted out in alarm, dashing to follow the soaring apeman.

A hollow laughter emitted from within the Alabaster Champion's helmet as he turned to confront the new challenger—a young man dressed in commoner garb and somehow a handsome face that contrasted with it. He responded to him with ease, “I’d hate to belittle a young man’s determination, but you cannot hope to defeat me.” His helmet tilted, gesturing towards Ace's muscular figure soaring through the air. “As you can see, I’m quite strong.”

The showman laughed as well, shaking his head as if he were being forced to suffer fools.

“What a silly little man,” the showman chuckled. “You call that strength?”

The Alabaster Champion was unaccustomed to receiving any form of disrespect, let alone to this degree, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He warned the showman, “Not only am I a champion of the city, I’m also of the House Fore. You would do best to remember who you’re talking to—”

“It doesn’t matter what raggedy house you came out of!” the showman shouted, interrupting him. “Just a house of candy asses and lesser men as far as I’m concerned! I feel bad for you, being birthed in such poor conditions surrounded by the weak! I can’t stop from blushing at how unashamed you are mentioning such a poor background to a specimen as magnificent as I!”

Unsure how to address the person in control of Red, Dwindle whispered with urgency, “Mister Showman, I don’t think this is a good idea!”

The Alabaster Champion's helmet shifted towards the dwarf, causing him to hiccup in trepidation at being singled out. But then the champion's gaze paused, drawn to a striking young woman standing beside the dwarf, radiating in gleaming silver armor.

The Alabaster Champion extended a greeting to her, his voice filled with charm, “Well met, Rose. Though we haven't met before, it is evident to me that you are a beautiful addition to our esteemed Fore family.”

“…I’m not of your family yet, Alistair,” Rose remarked warily. She then gasped, “Red, don’t!”

The Alabaster Champion, Alistair, turned around to see the showman charging toward him. His expression twisted with incredulity, unable to comprehend why someone who was obviously inferior would dare to challenge him. With a dismissive snort, Alistair tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, opting for a one-handed swing, not bothering to give his all with a two-handed swing.

To his surprise, his attack landed on nothing. The showman had made him fall for a feint.

As the blade sliced through the air, the showman swiftly capitalized on the opening, expertly lowering his stance and extending his arm to snatch Alistair's exposed ankle. This maneuver, known as an "ankle pick," allowed the showman to seize control of Alistair's leg, destabilizing him and bringing him closer to the ground.

“He's employing a sword technique!” Van's voice rang out in a warning, perplexed by Red's audacity in challenging someone vastly superior in power.

Alistair’s hand blurred as his sword became wrapped in swirling blue light, transforming it into a glowing drill that he then used to pierce toward the showman. He was suddenly put off balance as the showman repositioned to his waist and lifted. Alistair tried to readjust and adapt his sword technique to swerve and catch the showman while being hoisted into the air, but the showman repositioned again and pinned the Alabaster Champion to the ground with a heavy thud.

A stunned silence then hung in the air.

Witnessing the showman take the dominant position on top of Alistair, Rose tried to say something but could only manage a surprised squeak. Nasset’s dark eyes were unblinking as all her focus was on the showman’s form, busily grappling the knight in white armor.

“Champ!” Dwindle shouted excitedly, his small hairy hands gripped tightly into fists. His astonished cousins couldn’t speak, though they weren’t convinced the Alabaster Champion was defeated just yet, it was still amazing for someone to get the upper hand over such a foe, even just for a moment.

Van was also unable to say anything due to shock. Although like Dwindle’s cousins, he too thought it was too early to celebrate.

“You’re asking to be ripped apart,” Alistair growled from beneath the showman as he began to emit a blinding light, imbuing an amount of mana that caused those around to shield their eyes. With immense strength, he rocked his body upward like a launched catapult boulder.

Within his white helmet, his eyes widened sensing the showman use his momentum against him, slamming him back into the ground in a way he couldn’t comprehend.

"Two points!" echoed an official sounding voice in the showman's head. The speaker blew on what seemed like a metallic flute that emitted a high-pitched note.

Separated from his opponent, the showman's arm was raised victoriously into the air. He had achieved the impossible, accomplished what seemed unattainable. The flashback shifted, revealing him standing at the pinnacle of a podium. Adorning his neck was a gleaming gold medal.

His gaze lifted to the iconic symbol of five interlocking rings, each adorned with a different vibrant hue. The showman had once stood on that grand stage, a triumphant recipient of an Olympic gold medal.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Before the glitz and glamor, before the lights and the grand shows, there was only wrestling. No fans came to see him in the backwater town he had grown up in and when he first heard the thunderous roar of a crowd, he nearly wet himself. When people first started to ask for his autograph, he ran, thinking they were attacking him.

It took time for him to adjust to the wealth and adoration, to the voices of thousands chanting his name. In the end, he ascended as a shining star once becoming a pro wrestler. Everyone wanted a piece of him, extending offers for commercials, movies, and more. The best part was that they needed him more than he needed any of them.

However, none of that would have been possible without the arduous dedication, the day in and day out grind of honing the craft that propelled him toward a destiny unimaginable to those in his modest hometown. And that art was none other than hard-nosed wrestling.

Pinned to the ground, Alistair tried to swing his sword, but his wrist felt as if it were caught in a metal trap. Looking down, he saw the showman’s hand gripping tightly onto his wrist. The showman was using what was known as “wrist control”, a technique which allowed the wrestler to manipulate and dictate the movement of their opponent's arm.

“Get off me and fight like a true man!” Allistair roared, his body bursting out with turbulent energy. However, the showman used Mana Hardening to withstand the output of energy.

“What a peculiar application of Mana Hardening,” Jack commented, returning with a confused expression. He saw the knight who had throttled him and Ace lying on the ground, unable to get back up.

“How young pup take knight down?” Ace wondered aloud with his broken way of speaking, scratching his bald head in bewilderment.

“That's a first for me to witness Mana Hardening being used in such a way,” Rose admitted, nodding in agreement with Jack.

“Why is it strange?” Dwindle asked, being among those that couldn’t imbue mana.

Nasset, keeping her focus on the showman, decided to offer an explanation. "Red is using Mana Hardening to envelop his entire body."

Rose took over the explanation since Nasset became fully engrossed in observing the showman. "Mana Hardening is typically used for launching attacks, not transforming into a flexible armor."

Van, feeling a sense of inferiority, shook his head and argued, "That's not entirely accurate. I possess a defensive technique that employs Mana Hardening."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Is your technique as malleable as Red's?"

Van gritted his teeth. “No, it isn’t.” He was beginning to feel lesser than Red and he didn’t like it.

“Should we help somehow?” one of the dwarves asked, seeing Alistair in a vulnerable position, susceptible to attacks.

“Little we can do in that regard,” Jack denied. “That armor is impenetrable.”

As they continued their conversation, the showman maintained his grip on the Alabaster Champion, grappling relentlessly. The showman, though weaker than Alistair, possessed a mastery of wrestling techniques that allowed him to keep his formidable adversary pinned down.

With precise and agile movements, the showman maneuvered around the Alabaster Champion, relying on his knowledge of wrestling holds and techniques. He expertly utilized wrist control, gripping the champion's arm firmly to control the hand that wielded the sword. Through careful manipulation of leverage and weight distribution, the showman managed to keep the city’s champion grounded, frustrating his attempts to rise and regain control.

The showman deftly applied various wrestling techniques, using powerful body locks and strategic positioning to maintain his advantage. He skillfully utilized his own body as a counterbalance, executing a combination of takedowns and well-timed locks to keep the Alabaster Champion subdued. With each move, the showman showcased his technical prowess, skillfully harnessing the principles of leverage and control inherent in wrestling to neutralize the champion's overwhelming strength.

As Alistair struggled against the showman's skillful wrestling, deeper irritation crept across his face. Despite the vast power disparity between them, he found himself unable to break free and regain his footing. The showman's relentless control and unwavering wrestling expertise left the champion grappling with his own limitations.

“I’ll kill you when I get up!” Alistair threatened. The once indomitable champion, whose presence exuded power and invincibility, now seemed humbled and frustrated within his armored shell, desperate to stand back up.

Lights danced around as the Alabaster Champion burst with energy, attempting to use raw mana to dislodge the man seemingly attached to him, but to no success. The showman was on him like another layer of skin, unable to be shaken off. Mana Hardening was used expertly to soften the immense torrent of energy.

Time passed and the onlookers were beginning to cheer as hope ignited. Meanwhile, Jack of Spades and Ace of Clubs stood idly by, their roles momentarily diminished, but clearly they were impressed by the showman.

“That’s the way, champ!” Dwindle exclaimed with unrestrained joy, swept up in the exhilaration of the moment. It felt as if he were on another quest alongside Red, bearing witness to yet another miraculous performance from him. The dwarf had entirely forgotten the showman was the one in control of Red.

"Incredible! So, he's your client?" Glick asked, his voice filled with awe. He had already been informed about Dwindle's new occupation as a manager, but witnessing the person Dwindle represented in a fight firsthand left him even more impressed.

“Hammer and wrench, Dwindle,” Lorbrite praised with awe, measuring the value of such a fighter as the showman, “you’ve struck gold!”

Altogether, the dwarven cousins closed in around Dwindle, showering him with congratulatory pats on the back. A surge of emotion welled up within him, causing his round eyes to sting. This kind of celebration and recognition was usually reserved for completing a groundbreaking invention or proving oneself as a worthy member of the clan.

It was hard for Dwindle to believe, but in that moment, he couldn't help but feel like an accomplished dwarf.

“So, the Fore family can be beaten...” Rose whispered to herself, her voice filled with a mix of awe and a glimmer of hope. As she watched the showman's relentless control over the Alabaster Champion, a surge of emotions engulfed her. Despite Alistair remaining unharmed, he was rendered completely powerless, his sword slipping from his grasp in the midst of their struggle. In that fleeting moment, Rose felt a weight of confinement lift from her shoulders, as if this glimpse of vulnerability from the Alabaster Champion held the promise of breaking free from her engagement to the Fore family.

Meanwhile, a blush brushed Nasset's cheeks, and warmth spread through her as she saw why her father decided to send her with Red. This was a bloodline of utmost significance, one that couldn't be overlooked. Recalling the mating process she had witnessed within the Goddess' Lair brothel, her face flushed even deeper, vividly imagining Red engaging in such an intimate act with her.

Perhaps mating isn't as dreadful as I thought, she pondered, her embarrassment mingling with curiosity.

“Such an animalistic way of fighting and it seems like he’s cheating!” Van murmured with reluctance, wondering if he should reschedule his rematch with Red for a later time, so that he could dedicate intense training to work on going against grappling. With the time he hadn’t seen him, he could see Red had clearly gotten better. Unbeknownst to Van, the showman was in control of Red and was powered by the soul enhancement potion. With those factors combined, the showman’s wrestling was able to be taken to new heights.

Soon, Alistair's once vibrant mana imbuement began to dim, his breath growing labored with each passing moment. He found himself relentlessly tossed around, a mere doll in the showman's expert grasp, unable to regain his footing no matter how hard he fought. It was as if he were pitted against a martial arts master, a true master of combat.

And indeed, he was battling a master—a wrestling master.

The showman was an Olympian with a gold medal where he came from, the best at his sport. With Eronia's energy flowing through him, his wrestling skills surged with newfound strength, surpassing grappling mortal limits.

Victory seemed to be within reach, and the onlookers were poised to erupt into celebration. However, their anticipation was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of an enormous, flightless yellow bird, careening through the scene while recklessly tugging an out-of-control carriage behind it.