The entire arena froze.
Every third-year watching stood up in shock, eyes wide, jaws hanging open as Kael's fists hammered Kaigaku's body again and again.
"His striking speed is unnatural—" one third-year muttered.
"No first-year should move like that!" another added.
"He's surpassing Kaigaku in pure combat!"
Kaigaku staggered backward, his boots digging lines across the dirt.
His breath became ragged.
His heart thumped painfully as each punch crashed into him like falling boulders.
His knees buckled.
"What… What is happening…?" someone murmured.
"He had trained twice as long as any first-year." the first year murmured.
"Kaigaku, He was ranked second among the entire second-year class."
"A swordsman.
A combat fighter.
A prodigy.
Yet—
He had never been—"
"Not once—"
"Beaten this brutally in close combat."
Kael advanced with steps steady like cold stone.
His fists weren't shaking.
His breathing remained calm.
But his eyes—
