Once again, Darius stood facing Yaaro in the dueling arena— the cheering of the crowds was deafening, but not enough to distract him.

Darius’ eyes were like slits, narrowing on Yaaro. That arrogant man once again stood before him; this time without his hands in his pockets— This time appearing more haughty and confident than before. Seeing his arrogant display made Darius’ blood boil, but at the same time he was mystified.

It seemed that no matter what order he gave him, he refused to obey— and with no consequence.

Was the Geass broken?

Seeing Yaaro’s arrogant gaze, he could almost believe that it had.

But that’s impossible. Nobody has broken a Geass before unless they were…

His eyes narrowed to slits, Could it be?

Avesta raised a hand and yelled, “Start!”

The duel had officially started, and Darius stood rooted to his spot, waiting for Yaaro to attack— such was his style of combat.

And suddenly the crowd gasped— even Darius was taken aback.

What is he doing?

Casually, Yaaro walked towards him. It wasn’t a brisk walk; it was the kind of walk one would take when they had a lot of time before their next class.

Darius readied his stance and waited, silently watching the approaching Yaaro. This time, Darius vowed, he would completely disregard the rules and beat him to a pulp— so much that he would be bedridden for life. But he couldn’t help but wonder.

Last time it was a hardened wind… What trick is he going to pull out of his bag this time?

And then he stopped.

His arms were wide open.

“Come. Attack me and get this over with.”

A dumbfounded silence fell over the auditorium. Even Darius’ jaw dropped— and in his confusion, he almost relaxed his guard. His eyes narrowed.

“What is the meaning of this, slave?”

Yaaro responded with a sly smile, “I just wanted to show my ‘Master’ how much I appreciate him.”

I drove him too far. He’s gone mad.

“Why are you standing there? Go on, hit me.”

Cautiously, Darius scanned the man in front of him. Aside from his strange behavior and the unresponsive geass, there was nothing amiss.

“You are aware of the punishment for disobeying me?”

He nodded.

Darius responded to his silent answer, “Let it be a hundred times more horrible. You will regret the day you were born.”

Yaaro laughed heartily, “Of course!”

And with that short exchange, the battle started.

Honed by years of training right from childhood— Darius swung his sword.

And then again.

And then again.

And then…

He stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” The man in front of him grinned like the devil himself.

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Darius didn’t reply. He couldn’t. He was utterly transfixed by the hit counter on the belt. And so was everyone else in the crowd.

3 times he had hit him.

And the number on the counter was a 0.

Comically, Yaaro raised his eyebrows, “Had your fun?” And then he grinned madly, “Now my turn.”

Darius wheezed

And fell to the floor.

A single punch had knocked the wind out of him.

He stayed on the floor wheezing— no matter how hard he drew breath, air simply refused to enter his lungs.

His hair was yanked and his head swung up to meet Yaaro’s gaze. Slowly, that gaze traveled down— where the hit counter read 1.

“How much was it to win? 20?” Yaaro asked, but the words to spit a reply wouldn’t form.

Spittle flew out his mouth as another punch landed. His lower ribs cramped and his mind blanked from the pain.

2.

Searing pain shot through his ribs as another punch landed.

3.

He tried to protect himself, summoning a shield of water in front of his torso. Despite the cushioning of the water, the coming punch cracked his rib and shot another round of burning pain through his chest.

4.

“Water? What the fu— is this what the cloud of steam was?” He laughed heartily as he threw another punch.

5.

The world slowly grew dimmer: as if slowly, a black screen was materializing in front of his eyes. The pain in his body grew distant and further even as another punch socked him. Slowly, like the world fading away during a dream, he slipped into that darkness and the last thing he heard was Avesta’s distant yelling.

----------------------------------------

“Stop!” Avesta yelled as he flung himself in between the violent beatdown. Avesta’s eyes widened: despite being a skinny young boy, Avesta couldn’t control Yaaro at all. His strikes continued unaffected.

Only after three grown men restrained him, did the ferocity of his punches slow, andl he was finally pulled away from Darius. A single drop of sweat rolled down Yaaro’s brow as he spat at the body on the floor.

He shook off his restrainers.

“Yaaro Ilay.” Avesta growled, “What egregious behavior! Someone like you is completely unfitting of our esteemed University. You are disqualified! I will report this to the board!”

His frenzy and mad laughter had long since disappeared— and now he was completely unentertained. His sharp eyes bore into Avesta, unnerving the well-built instructor.

“What an amazing university. Truly.” He patted Avesta on the back and whispered, “Go. Report this to your board.”

And then he turned to address the crowd, “Truly! What an esteemed university! Remember this students! It is dignified to rob a man of his dignity and embarrass him! It is honorable to whip him senseless. It is righteous to completely humiliate and shame him for no reason. I hope you all will continue the legacy of this esteemed University.”

He bowed to Avesta, “I’m so honored to be a part of this establishment.”

And as he walked by he whispered, his voice full of vitriol, “The deepest levels of hell are for you, hypocrite.”

When he left the room, the crowd was completely still. So stunned were they, that they forgot to breathe. But Yaaro didn’t know this. Today he would finally leave this god-forsaken place and go to the Alvina mountains.

And then I’ll go home.

His mind wandered to Darius, and despite the torture he had put him through, he bore him no ill-well anymore. A good beating was bound to release some steam, and he stretched his body, exhaling with relief.

And then he grinned madly.

The first fight I won!

Even now he could feel the sensation of his fists hitting his flesh. It was like a bolt of energy shooting through his arms and energizing him with each hit. Simply put, it was a pleasure far better than anything Yaaro had known.

“Yaaro!” Sholin’s exhausted voice sounded from behind, “Yaaro wait!”

He threw a glance behind him.

Sholin’s hands were on his knees as his breathing slowly steadied. More than a few drops of sweat were on the floor where he stood. Then he suddenly stood up with gleaming eyes, “That was amazing! You really showed that thug!”

And then he added, “I personally believe you should’ve beaten him more.”

Yaaro chuckled, “I believe that too.”

“But how did you do that? The fight was so confusing! He hit you and then stopped. Then you kept hitting him! What was that about?”

Yaaro chuckled. To an outsider, the fight must have definitely looked very strange. It was more like a theater performance than a fight. Taking some pity on him, Yaaro explained what the two did— and to this, a curious look crossed Sholin’s face.

“But if you were this strong, why did you lose the first time?” Sholin asked.

He had a sly grin, “I wasn’t this strong before.”

And then he continued walking, leaving Sholin behind, “Wait! What do you mean? What did you do??”

Yaaro laughed, “It’s a secret!”

“Where are you going?”

“That’s also a secret.”

And then Sholin whispered something, but Yaaro walked so fast that it was lost on him. Sholin ran in front of Yaaro and stopped him. He then whispered again, “To the Alvina mountains?”

“Yes.” He said.

“Don’t go yet.”

“And why is that?”

Sholin thought for a while, and then said, “It’s a long story.”