"Enjoy what?" I inquired, my voice steady despite the tense atmosphere enveloping us. His movements were swift as he extended his arm, a gesture that initially seemed innocuous until the sinews and veins protruded, emphasizing the potential force behind it. My mind raced, realizing the impending strike - a slap, perhaps? In a split second, my instincts kicked in. I swiftly raised my right arm, intercepting his motion just as his hand swiped toward me. The collision of our actions was an unexpected symphony of control and reaction. He seemed to have anticipated my move, displaying a proficiency that mirrored my own understanding of controlling a situation.
His expression betrayed a mix of surprise and admiration. "Wow, better than I expected." he remarked, the astonishment evident in his eyes. But then came an unexpected challenge. "How about seventy percent?" A subtle shift in his arm's strength emerged, intensifying the pressure against my defense. My feet struggled for purchase on the ground, the force propelling me to the right, and I knew I had to recalibrate to regain control in this impromptu trial of strength.
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Soul: 230 (-20)
Skills:
Lvl. 1 Strength Booster - Increase your strength by 150% for three seconds. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown. (Activated) The one minute cooldown has commenced.
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As I pushed against his arm, he and I weren't giving up. He had more in store, which I couldn't handle. He probably knew I had a skill relating to strength at this point. I managed to apply pressure, slowly gaining ground against his resistance. The unexpected turn seemed to catch him off guard, his attempt to shake my grip off displaying a flicker of disbelief. His hand retreated, swiftly returning to the hilt of his sword. Alarm bells rang in my mind. Was this escalating toward a deathmatch? In the midst of the turmoil, a singular thought took precedence, safeguarding Aroha and the stadium from harm. He's strong enough to destroy it all.
The metallic sound of the sword being unsheathed sliced through the charged air, and my pulse quickened in anticipation of the impending clash. But then, an inexplicable shift occurred. Something intangible, an otherworldly force, manifested itself, eclipsing the impending danger. The Samurai stood frozen, his katana poised perilously close to my neck.
Only now did I notice the sharp sword to my throat, yet it paled in comparison to the overwhelming presence that enveloped us both. It was an unmistakable energy, one that commanded attention and respect. A sudden utterance broke the tense silence, shattering the imminent confrontation. "Oh, Time? Don't spoil my fun.” he quipped, a hint of familiarity in his tone. The worry hit me. Could it be him?!
As I turned around, the empty space behind me confirmed his abrupt disappearance. A subtle rush of air hinted at his swift departure, and I pivoted back to my original stance. Time stood there, a wispy vapor veiling his form, his hand poised in a spear-like gesture, emanating an unsettling heat. Meanwhile, the katana lay discarded on the ground, and the Samurai was knocked unconscious. He was standing up for a split second, but he soon dropped onto the ground.
Time's words sliced through the charged atmosphere. "No problem, System. Don't blame him, his family's strict. Yatta yatta 'honor the clan' yatta yatta 'don't fail'. I kind of saved you just now, didn't I?" His nonchalant demeanor belied the gravity of the situation. Admittedly, I couldn't deny his intervention had potentially averted a dire outcome. His strength, formidable beyond my reaction speed, was something I needed to keep in mind.
Rubbing my right arm, I felt the lingering soreness from the recent confrontation. "Thanks, Time.” I offered in gratitude, acknowledging the unexpected assistance. Time's departure was as sudden as his appearance. "No problem. Your performance against The Demon was spectacular. I'm looking forward to seeing more. Well, I have to go now, he'll wake up soon," he declared, walking past me and vanishing from the room.
The eerie absence of the overwhelming presence I had sensed earlier lingered, replaced now by an unsettling quiet. His skill had to be a limiter. Considering using Peeking, a sudden unease halted my idea. Thoughts raced to the Samurai's companion. Was he still a threat? Aroha, seated nearby, her eyes fixed on the unfolding events, broke the silence with an annoyed tone. "Can you keep it quiet? I'm trying to watch the match here." The irritation pricked me. "Aroha, did you just see him try and kill me with his sword?" My serious tone clashed with her relaxed response, and a sense of urgency tinged my voice.
Aroha's dismissive gesture made me feel like I'd just voiced an outrageous theory. She launched into a detailed explanation, a monologue that painted a different picture. "He wasn't going to do it. One of his skills is testing an opponent's willpower and fortitude through intimidation, if the opponent was intimidated, it would make them slower. It was probably just a test to see if it'd work on you. Probably. By the way, stop calling people by their titles. His name is Kayuga." Her words sunk in, unraveling the mystery behind the Samurai's move. I had fallen for his ruse, succumbing to the subtle ploy of intimidation. He was playing mind games, and I had unwittingly become a pawn in his strategy. Although it was super immature.
Meanwhile, the Samurai's companion, Loki, approached Kayuga and effortlessly lifted him up, easing him onto the chair beside me. The swift transition from apparent distress to casual comfort felt jarring. Kayuga seemed restored, but the tension lingered in the air. Turning to his friend, I appealed for a truce. "Let's solve this during the match, okay? This is just immature." The sentiment resonated with him, evident in his response as he finished placing Kayuga on the chair. "Yeah, I agree. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm his friend, Loki." In an attempt to bridge the awkwardness, I extended my hand for a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Loki. I'm Oren." Our handshake, albeit slightly awkward, sealed the moment. "Likewise," he affirmed before I excused myself, seeking refuge beside Aroha.
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The ongoing match seized my attention. Amidst the chaos of the arena, a brown-haired boy, impeccably dressed in a business uniform, stood his ground against a rival in casual urban attire, their clash unfolding in a flurry of blocked punches. Aroha answered my unspoken query, her voice cutting through the bloody spectacle. "The one with the red and black dreads is Tiger's Roar, and the one who's on the defensive is Limitless Resolve." Her clarity provided context to the unfolding spectacle, names attached to the figures locked in combat.
Limitless Resolve's strategy materialized swiftly. Blocking a thunderous right straight from Tiger's Roar, he retaliated with a precise left hook aimed at the liver. The impact visibly rattled Tiger, causing him to cough up blood, his stance faltering with each subsequent blow. In a desperate maneuver, Tiger launched a powerful right haymaker, connecting with Limitless' face, who absorbed the blow, his body contorting under the impact. With unwavering resolve, he surged forward, landing a forceful punch squarely on Tiger's face. The frenzy of punches escalated, blood painting the canvas of their conflict. Probe jabs, uppercuts, hooks, and kicks - a chaotic symphony of combat techniques clashed in the arena.
The toll of the relentless exchange became evident. Both combatants teetered on the brink of collapse, their bodies showing signs of imminent defeat. Aroha's commentary punctuated the tense atmosphere. "The match has been going on for a few minutes while you guys were doing your thing. This is about to end." The climax approached rapidly. Tiger unleashed a diagonal straight, but Limitless, in a display of agility, slipped the strike and executed a rising front kick to Tiger's chin. The grimace on Tiger's face swiftly gave way to unconsciousness as he soared through the air before crashing onto the ground, defeated like so many others before him.
Limitless, victorious yet visibly wounded, hunched over, cradling his injured arm. His words, barely audible amidst the chaos, praised Tiger's resilience. "What made the difference in this fight was attrition and resolve, like my name suggests. No one can surpass me in that." Despite officials' attempts to offer medical aid, he waved them off, striding back into the arena's corridors.
It wasn't a triumph that exuded the typical aura of victory. Instead, it felt like survival.
Aroha's commentary continued, dissecting the recent match. "Well, Tiger wasn't going to make it far anyway. He wasn't even able to use his skill." Loki agreed, painting a grim prognosis. "He's not going to heal fully by his next match. Even if his 'fully healed prime' self could beat Oren, his injuries would cost him the win."
Sharing the consensus, I nodded in acknowledgment. "I completely agree. But you never know, his skill could be really good. Also, I would have to knock him unconscious. He's not giving up at all." While the odds seemed stacked against Limitless, I held onto a sliver of uncertainty, respecting his resilience and unyielding mindset. There was an element of unpredictability in combat, a truth I couldn't ignore. Admiring Limitless, I contemplated the lessons embedded in his honorable approach. If faced with a similar situation where the stakes were not life-threatening, would I have kept going?
As the announcer signaled the conclusion of the day's matches, she announcing the schedule for the upcoming fights, "Today's matches are over! We'll see you tomorrow! Tomorrow will have the first two fights of round two! Be there!" I extended my hand to Aroha. "Ready to go?" She clasped it firmly. "Yeah, I'm ready." The urgency to depart was needed, spurred by a smart decision made earlier. Using Peeking on Kayuga while he slept, a precautionary measure to avert potential conflict, I was frightened. He was going easy on me. The uncertainty of his reaction upon awakening was a risk I wasn't willing to take. We swiftly exited the VIP room, our steps echoing in the hallway as we made our way home, leaving behind the whirlwind of the day's events.
As consciousness slowly trickled back, the darkness ebbed away, revealing the familiar contours of the room. My gaze settled on Loki, his figure a blurry semblance against the slowly sharpening backdrop. His voice pierced through the lingering haze, "Hey, you awake?" Struggling against the remnants of a lingering trance, I managed to respond, my words laboriously finding their way out, "Yeah... yeah, I'm awake." A momentary daze lingered, a fog I was swiftly dispelling.
Suddenly, like a lightning bolt, clarity struck. Without hesitation, I leaped into motion, executing a series of fluid front flips before landing squarely on the ground. My eyes darted to the time display—it read twelve forty. System had already departed. Loki's voice cut through the charged air, a steady anchor in the whirlwind of my thoughts. "Oh, there you are." His presence acted as a grounding force amidst my roiling emotions.
A feeling of humiliation coursed through me, my grip on the katana tightening. In a loud declaration, I vowed, "That bastard Time... and System too! I'll destroy them both! I promise it, to the heavens above!"
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Name: Kayuga Raijiuku
Strength: 172
Speed: 145
Defense: 22%
Soul: 150
Skills:
Lvl. 3 Sword Draw: Flash - A sword draw technique molded and used by the Angels themselves. To use this technique, repeatedly quickdraw. Upon successful activation, it increases your swing speed by 175%. Each quickdraw costs 3 soul to use, no cooldown.
Lvl. 1 Slicing Intimidation (Passive) - Test your opponent's willpower and fortitude by pretending you're about to slice them. If successful, you permanently make them 10% slower, only if they're fighting you.
Lvl. 2 Sword Power (Passive) - Any sword you use can hurt Gifted near or below your strength stat. A large difference will cause little to no damage.
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