(Crafty, foolish crook. I happen to be well versed with individuals that indulge in distasteful trickery.) Melvin no longer spared a glance for his defeated opponent.

“Mike Batnel is unable to continue fighting. Melvin Serven wins!"

Following the judge's call, a heap of bustling cheers erupted from those watching this arena. There were quite a number of spectators for Melvin's match as many were keen to see how capable the children from the Caleyar Orphanage were. Many of the Feeria onlookers were blinking their eyes in surprise at not only Melvin's unforeseen calibre but also the upswing cheers. Regardless of the fact that the opponent was a crook, Melvin had displayed the bearing of Feeria in a very domineering manner. To hear a Feeria being loudly praised, they felt fairly fulfilled.

"Dalis, look Melvin won! He won his match like Koji did. Hooray!" Stilla tugged at Dalis's sleeves hard. When she looked at Dalis, she saw an annoyed countenance.

"Oh oh oh sorry Dalis. Did I pull on your sleeves too much?" Stilla hastily repented.

"Kind of. However, that is not the cause of my ill mood," Dalis blatantly replied.

Dalis had a sudden sixth sense occur to him. He sensed that somebody was belittling him; he stared at the obvious culprit in defiance.

***

"Next duel. Koji Itou vs Hayate from the Caleyar Orphanage. Participants, please enter the stage."

(Him?!!) Koji frowned upon hearing the name of his next opponent. Promptly, his mood sank. Morosely, he gritted his teeth and trudged to face his fearsome, bitter opponent.

On the other side, Hayate, as per usual, swaggered finely, planting his feet firmly onto the arena. Following his descent, a breeze of wind smoothly accompanied him.

It is important to note that this was not because of a technique. Hayate of the Swamp was renowned for having a very special affinity to the wind. It wasn't rare for an individual to have a talent or affinity in a particular area, but Hayate's uniqueness extended to an exceptional level. Everywhere he went the natural wind in the air passively coursed around him. It was as though he was a child born from mother nature's wind. When the weather presents turbulent wind, Hayate's strength is said to magnify a hundredfold as he can guide and dictate the wind as he pleases. It was truly frightening.

Glancing at his opponent without a hurry, Hayate's eyebrow raised slightly.

"Oh ho? You appear to be familiar . . . ? Koji Itou . . . Itou . . . Ah I see you’re that man's son." There was a tinge of surprise laced in his voice. Afterwards, his lips curled to form a derisive grin.

Koji's face began to redden, and his hands were turning white. He was getting caught up in Hayate’s pace. Not only did Hayate not seem to acknowledge his existence, but he also raised the issue of his father.

Like a trained heir, he began to skillfully move his body and orate. "For a man originating from the Swamp. He truly upheld the reputation of the Swamp. As a man who served under her, his expertise was welcome. Mercilessly slaughtered foes, accomplished espionage, and above all, unwavering obedience. All the elders said he was one of her favourites. Unfortunately, he has lost his usefulness since the end of the Great War. I wonder how he is now. Is he faring well?"

Hayate then placed his left arm on his hip, and his right arm moved closer to his neat high collar and touched his accentuated jawline. Caressing his chin, he examined the small figure before him. "My sympathies to your father," he sighed in disappointment.

"HaYaTEee . . . " Koji felt as though he was saturated with boiling lava while his eyes were filled with burning cold blood. Killing intent was surging out of his sockets.

The judge understood this conversation had reached its breaking point. "Koji Itou. Please be mindful of the tournament rules or there will be dire consequences." Seeing that there was no apparent reaction, the disgruntled judge could only helplessly commence the duel. "Participants, the duel will now begin!"

"Hidden Technique: Liquify!"

Koji's body was undertaking a transformation. His body seemed to appear as if he was melting. No! It was dissolving! He was turning into a slime-like humanoid creature; he was liquid! Not a trace of liquid oozed out of his body.

"Haaaah . . . those eyes of yours at first glance may be similar to your father. But it seems the only aspect that is similar is his inherited genes. Those eyes are an utter contrast to his chilling coldness." Hayate had yet to make a move. Instead, he continued his tangent with uncaring composure.

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"That's fine by me!" The aggravated slime bounced his way towards Hayate with robust leg strength. Each leg pushed off like a professional athlete leaping long jumps in the Olympics.

Dalis, who was spectating his room mate's match, was impressed by his bounces. It reminded him of a particular portly plumber with a red hat.

"Revolting. You really are a slime. I didn't think I would be fighting a beast in the tournament." Hayate's face contorted to a disgusted expression.

"Are you going to still underestimate me and look down on me?!" Koji was now within a moment's reach.

"When there is this large of a disparity in level, it would be embarrassing for me to face you seriously. Perhaps I could whoosh my sleeve and defeat you in one move, but that would be a little too much, don't you agree? After all, we are fellow children from the Swamp and the Orphanage."

*BOUNCE*

Koji spread his arms and legs wide in the air and was prepared to grapple Hayate down with a full force takedown. Finally, Hayate readied his stance. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and opened them. Sternly he said:

"Vanquish Wind Style: Air Palm Strike!"

*POW!*

"Ughh . . . " Koji groaned in pain. The powerful strike brought forth a jab of throbbing pain to his chest. It hurt quite much as he expected but it would take more than for him to be defeated. He managed to secure him perfectly. "You bastard, this is why you shouldn't act so arrogant" he declared in a stifled voice.

"Ah . . . what's this? This isn't like the usual liquefaction technique . . ."

Currently, Hayate was entrapped in Koji's grasp like a black widow having captured its silked prey. His left arm was hugged by Koji's right arm, legs were wrapped by the widow's legs, right side of his body seized, and his head was squeezed tight to a headlock. He found it difficult to breathe even when taking into account his enhanced airways. If this attack was from a body consolidator, he would have presumably suffocated.

Hayate studied the only limb available; his right arm. His face slumped grim as he unwillingly swirled his fingers around, touching the secreted liquid.

"Absolutely disgusting. Barbaric! Mutated sweat."

Indeed, Koji had adapted and forged a new path to his liquid technique. Accentuating the cohesiveness of the generated liquid being to somehow create a great degree of adhesive property. It may be inappropriate to define this solely as liquid art.

Koji's chest worked like jelly. It rebounded back in position, hitting his palm.

Involuntarily, he wracked his brain and acted accordingly to draw conclusions to Koji's body.

It was futile to try to grab any part of Koji's gelatinous body. The feeling was akin to touching elastic mud: unable to be grabbed or pulled. In Koji's case, it just bounced back.

Testing the limits of Koji's technique, he unleashed a series of firm palm strikes from his restricted position.

Each strike was rather weak when compared to his normal palm strikes without force. Fortunately, he was manipulating the wind to provide him with a helping hand.

(Heeh . . . so his slime-like body even has a commendable level of shock absorption. However. . .)

"Forfeit Hayate! I'm not ignorant to comprehend that I'm not a match for you. But your carelessness and arrogance has lead you to this." Once in the spider's web, there was no way out. Koji coldly feasted his eye on Hayte's feeble struggle: it was futile.

"Well I must . . . say, you certainly . . . went beyond the expectations . . . I had initially assumed." Hayate's response was slow as he wrestled, gaping for air.

" . . . "

Koji's secreted sweat profusely increased, drenching Hayate's body even further. It made him feel dizzy as his throat parched. He was carefully maintaining his water levels before, but the sudden unease instinctively severed his concentration. Hayate was simply too calm. Moreover, he had yet to even stutter given the situation. Sure his speech was slow, and his breaths were rapid albeit was this all his headlock could achieve?

"Since you forced me . . . to undergo such an . . . unpleasant experience, I have changed. . . my mind."

Without warning, Hayate's body bloated in compact proportions; he did not appear to be too particularly different at all. The onlookers would not have noticed this subtle change. However, Koji undoubtedly captured this brief last moment.

"Vanquish Wind Style: Air Palm Strike!"

*KAPOW!*

Koji Itou was sent flying more than fifty meters across the battlefield.

The audience watching this match were left speechless.

The judge rushed towards Koji and checked his condition.

It was a complete knockout.

One move was all it took.

“Koji Itou is unconscious and thus unable to continue fighting. Hayate from the Caleyar Orphanage wins!"

“KOJI!” Stilla, Jessica, Allen, Sienna, Sister Edna and a couple of others cried.

Allen and Sister Edna hurriedly raised from their seats and ran to the fallen Koji.

Dalis was not in a good mood.

Hayate, on the field, did not even bother to spare a glance at his fallen opponent. He had already left the boundary as soon as he was declared the victor.

(Although we are not as fussy as those from Feeria, you are dishonourable as that man's son.)

Alas, one should not forget the restrained position Hayate was in.

If he had no obstructions.

Just how far . . .

Just how far would Koji fly?