The air was still as Jake closely observed the monk. His opponent had yet to even take a stance but still simply stood in a relaxed pose with his palms held against each other. Yet, even so, Jake hesitated to attack.

No openings.

It didn’t matter what Jake thought up. No matter what, his intuition told him whatever he did had a low chance of not ending with him getting a punch to the face. Jake considered dragging out the time and if that would be good or bad for him, but considering the nature of the monk, it wouldn’t surprise Jake if the guy was happy with a tie where no violence occurred.

Not feeling like he had much of a choice, Jake stopped delaying and moved in. Arcane energy entered his legs as he went for a low-committal low kick to start with. He did so with the expectations of the monk dodging the foot infused with destructive arcane power.

That isn’t what happened.

The monk braced himself and lifted his leg to block Jake’s kick. A wave of destructive arcane energy that had sent every other opponent reeling back smashed into the man, but Jake felt none of the usual feedback. Instead, he felt like he had just tried to kick a streetlight, the monk not moving a single inch from the impact.

“I hope we both agree that a blocked hit does not count as one landed… though I would be willing to give you one point,” the monk said as Jake looked at him with surprise.

“Actually landed hits only,” Jake clarified.

The monk smiled, and Jake instantly leaped backward to avoid the incoming attack. The raised leg the monk had used to block smashed down into the sand, making the ground erupt all around them. With the same motion, the monk exploded forward along with the wave of blinding sand, a kick aimed at Jake’s stomach.

Quickly, Jake reacted as he blocked with his own leg. At least he tried to. The monk purposefully missed him by a few centimeters, and rather than land a kick, he instead hooked his foot around Jake’s leg and pulled, throwing the still mid-air Jake off balance as he was dragged back.

What the-

Jake didn’t even have time to think as he instinctively responded to a fist descending down toward his chest. Both his arms were infused with stable arcane energy as he crossed them just in time. The fist smashed into his arms, making Jake feel like someone had just hit him with a baseball bat, blasting him down into the sand as the air was temporarily knocked out of his lungs.

The pain went through his body as Jake felt true danger for the very first time in the Colosseum… and he was all for it.

Right after he hit the sand, Jake twisted his body, landing a kick to the side of the unprepared monk, making him stumble to the side. This time it didn’t feel like he had hit a bloody wall, but actual human flesh. Sadly for him, he didn’t have the time or thoughtfulness to add any destructive energy of note to the kick.

It still gave him the time to do a handspring to get back on his feet.

“What are we seeing!? Doomfoot was swept off his feet and, for the very first time in the Colosseum, used something other than his legs to block!? But who can blame him after that awe-inspiring power displayed by the Benevolent Monk! There sure wasn’t any benevolence in that first!”

Jake didn’t need to have it pointed out, but yeah… the kicking-only challenge was officially over now. In one brief exchange, it had rapidly become clear there was no way he could have kept that going without having the stuffing knocked out of him.

Regarding his opponent, he saw that the monk stood with a bright smile. Jake momentarily panicked as he wondered if he was bleeding anywhere and thus lost, but that wasn’t the case.

“Rarely does one have such a wonderous opportunity… I believe it is 0-1 in your favor,” the Benevolent Monk said.

“Make that 1-1. I count that as a landed hit, as I didn’t fully block it,” Jake corrected him. His kick had barely done anything but briefly throw the monk off balance while Jake’s back still ached. It was only fair.

Besides, with the explosive power the monk had just displayed and Jake’s own offensive prowess, there was no fucking way the fight wouldn’t end with some blood being spilled on either side.

“Very well,” the monk bowed as he shifted his stance. “This time, I shall go on the offensive.”

Jake prepared himself as the monk stepped forward with small, measured steps so as to not leave any openings before he was within range to strike. Every move was calculated, and there was not a doubt in Jake’s mind that the monk was a more experienced fighter than any he had faced before in the Colosseum.

It gave him flashbacks to fighting the Sword Saint…

But Jake was no slouch either. The first move of the monk had taken him by surprise. That wasn’t going to happen again.

Finally, the Benevolent Monk got in range to attack. With a big step, he moved forward and struck, aiming to land a fast palm strike on Jake. Responding quickly, Jake stepped out of the way of his opponent’s attack as he totally threw away all attempts at sticking to his personal challenge by throwing a jab at the monk. The brief opening from the palm strike did not prove big enough, and Jake found his hit blocked and countered, only for Jake to counter the counter.

Arcane energy revolved through his body as every single strike was infused with destructive energies, yet the monk neutralized every blow. Jake did not understand how the monk at times seemed to become as immovable as a fortress yet, at others, was light as a feather and clearly still a human that would crumble from a single well-landed blow.

Odd concepts were at play that Jake could not fully comprehend… but it was also clear the monk couldn’t grasp what Jake was doing either, as he was taken by surprise several times due to the destructive potential infused into Jake’s punches and kicks or when his arm suddenly had a stable barrier covering it to block a hit.

They exchanged blows for more than a minute, kicking up sand all around them as the arena became a mess, yet despite over a hundred small and large moves, not a single blow that any of them would define as a “landed hit” occurred.

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That is, until they both presented fake openings at once, attacking in concert.

Jake was hit in the chest by a palm as he managed to kick the monk in his stomach. Both of them tumbled back, Jake sent momentarily airborne as the stable arcane mana that had helped protect him shattered from the blow that seemed to send odd waves through his body.

The monk wasn’t much better off as he smashed into a pillar, hitting his back hard before landing on the sand and falling down on one knee with a sizzling wound of destructive arcane energy on his stomach.

Yet somehow, neither of them shed a single drop of blood.

Getting back up, Jake scoffed as he ripped off his already torn shirt. By now, it was just a hazard and somewhere the monk could potentially grab onto. He seemed like the honorable type who wouldn’t do that, but one could never be too sure.

It was 2-2 now, and Jake dove right back into it. As time passed, Jake did begin to get some semblance of feeling for what the monk was doing. In some ways, what he did reminded Jake a bit of himself. When he defended, the monk could seemingly make his entire body utterly immoveable and impervious, while when he attacked, he sent out odd destructive waves. However, after quite a few more traded hits, setting the score to 5-6 in the monk’s favor, Jake finally understood his initial assessment was wrong. The monk’s concept was not similar to Jake’s arcane affinity. It was both simpler and infinitely more complex at the same time.

When the monk blocked a hit, he did not truly nullify Jake’s blows. He absorbed it instead. Rather than the physical body, he made it so Jake struck the monk’s soul directly, sending destructive energies through that. However, even if he did so, the monk managed to remain unaffected. Even if he did lose energy from taking hits, it was minuscule compared to actually getting hit. As for why others didn’t do something similar…

Jake had tried to suffer from soul and mental attacks before. Getting hit in the soul was a special kind of pain, unlike anything that could ever be inflicted on the body. Moreover, it was like getting punched in the brain every single time one was hit. Like taking a mental attack every time… yet the monk did this repeatedly without a care in the world. At least he didn’t show it but kept a serene expression.

All of his is to say… the monk had an innate will and inner calm that was utterly monstrous. His level of mental energy was simply on another level, to the point of it not truly making any sense.

Given enough landed hits, the monk would still fall. He still lost energy every single time Jake hit him, after all. Likely all three resources at once due to how the soul tended to work. The monk also needed to actively “shift” to doing his odd soul blocks and couldn’t move while doing so, creating plenty of openings.

The real way Jake found out how the monk’s ability worked wasn’t just through his own landed hits but those he took. He felt the odd waves go into his body every time he took a hit and soon identified them as soul-affecting attacks.

Jake himself was no weakling when it came to his soul and had thus barely noticed. But that didn’t mean the monk’s ability was useless, as it did allow him to deal more damage with every blow, as he could effectively infuse a soul-damaging concept into every punch.

One thing was clear… this Benevolent Monk was far beyond what anyone at his level should be. Shit, he was probably above where most C-grade should be in pure understanding and conceptual control.

But Jake still had confidence. One of the core tenets of his fighting style was to read his opponent, and as the fight proceeded, Jake did just that. Even as he fell behind and the score became 6-8 for the monk, he slowly began to edge out an advance, bringing the score to 7-8 in the very next moment by landing a fast job to the monk’s liver.

They were approaching the end of their duel… and they both knew it.

Jake was breathing heavily as he backed off a few steps, sweat dripping down his brow. The monk was also far less still than before, having to heave for breath himself. Every muscle in Jake’s body ached from what had only been about ten minutes of fighting total, with the true number of exchanged moves well into the hundreds.

Even so… no blood had been spilled yet. Jake had blue marks everywhere, his arms were especially looking bad, and the monk didn’t look in good condition either. But, as long as the blood stayed as internal bleeding, it didn’t count. With neither of them using any weapons and both able to control and strengthen their body, it was far more difficult than normal to create any open wounds.

Looking at this opponent, Jake saw the monk’s calm eyes and smile. Despite his labored breathing, he looked confident in himself. The monk clearly had more in the tank and probably still something hidden up his… well, he didn’t have sleeves, but he definitely had something hidden somewhere.

Jake also had one more trump card to play. One attack he had purposefully not used in the entire fight so far, as he was looking for the perfect opportunity. One technique that could shift the entire bout in a single moment:

Fear Gaze.

And he knew it was soon time to use it. Both of them were getting tired, and their bodies no longer moved exactly as they intended every time. This meant more minor opportunities to attack, and Jake was waiting for one of those opportunities.

In concert, both of them seemed to agree to resume their fight as both stepped forward and entered each other’s range once more. Jake winced with pain every time he blocked but didn’t let it distract him as he tried all he could to land a blow. He finally managed to land a punch as he himself was kicked.

The score went to 8-9 for the monk as the opportunity arose as the monk’s kick had put him slightly off balance.

Jake leaned his head to the side, avoiding a quick jab as he moved in for the finisher. The opening he had been waiting for had finally presented itself, and there was no way he wasn’t capitalizing fully. Using the same motion he had to dodge, Jake threw a haymaker – an attack the monk would have easily dodged under normal circumstances, but this wasn’t normal circumstances.

As he lunged forward, he activated Fear Gaze at full power to send an arcane-empowered fist with all of Jake’s momentum baked into it, barreling toward the momentarily frozen monk’s face. He only needed the monk to be frozen for less than a quarter of a second, less than any of his prior opponents, and-

It fell short by a fraction.

Jake’s arcane-infused punch swept across and nicked the monk’s chin as he, barely in time, moved his head to the side while landing a counter-attack of his own. Jake had no response but to brace himself, having put everything into his attack.

The Benevolent Monk’s body exploded with power as he stomped down in the very same second his palm hit Jake in the stomach, sending a shockwave through Jake in both body and soul. Reverberations went through him as he flew back, his entire body wracked with pain as blood pooled in his mouth before he smashed into one of the many pillars.

A crack was heard as the pillar was filled with fractures, Jake coughing up a mouthful of blood on impact as he fell to the ground, heaving. Internal wounds ravaged his insides, forcing him to cough up even more blood. He had barely managed to strengthen his back using his arcane energy, making the stone break rather than his back, but it was still cut up everywhere and filled with a mesh of deep scratches. With everything put together, Jake struggled as he tried to stand, failing to do so.

Fuck…

“Alas, one cannot win every bout in their lifetime but only carry with them the lessons from a loss,” the Benevolent Monk said in a sentimental tone, making Jake grit his teeth. He had messed up and overestimated hi-

“I surrender. Thank you for this experience. It was indeed an exquisite experience that I hope bears repeating,” the monk finished, making Jake look up in shock despite the pain.

The monk stood there with a smile on his face… with a small cut on his left cheek from Jake’s punch, a single drop of blood rolling down before dripping onto the sand below. Still smiling, the man walked over and offered Jake a hand.

Without thinking, Jake took it as the Benevolent Monk helped him stand and gave him a solemn nod before turning around and walking out of the arena, Jake still just standing there with a body that felt like shit and an even shittier feeling in his stomach.

I… didn’t win shit, Jake cursed internally as the commentator went wild, seemingly not questioning the highly questionable outcome of the fight. The only comfort Jake could find was that he was certain of one thing…

There was no fucking way he wasn’t going to meet that monk again in the Colosseum for a proper rematch.