"Start!"
With a sharp downward motion of his hand, the judge signaled the beginning of the fight.
'They really don't waste time with these matches. Makes sense, we're only in stage three. Would take too much time and not worth the effort to make it any fancier than this, I guess.'
Before the last syllable had fully left the judge's mouth, Lucian was already in motion.
He moved fast, too fast for a man his size. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between them, throwing himself into the fight like a spring uncoiled.
Kael shifted back instinctively, barely avoiding the first blow. A punch whistled past his cheek, followed by another aimed at his ribs. Lucian pressed forward, relentless, keeping Kael on the defensive.
'Aggressive… heavy on pressure. He's not letting me breathe.'
The punches came in quick combinations. A jab. A hook. A sharp elbow that cut through the air like a blade. Kael blocked one, sidestepped another, but Lucian's pace made it difficult to counter. The man fought like he had something to prove, like holding back wasn't an option.
'Aren't you taking this a little too seriously?'
Kael narrowed his eyes.
He wasn't panicked. Not yet.
He ducked under a wide swing and stepped to the side, forcing Lucian to reset his stance. A brief pause.
'He's overcommitting. Too confident in his early momentum.'
Kael shifted his weight, grounding himself, and for the first time since the match started, threw a strike of his own, a straight punch aimed at Lucian's torso. It connected, but barely. Lucian absorbed it and responded immediately with a spinning elbow that Kael leaned away from just in time.
The two circled each other now, their feet brushing against the scuffed floor, eyes locked.
The real fight had just begun.
Even as the fight raged on, Kael kept glancing toward the judge and the growing number of spectators. At first, only one or two had stopped to watch Lucian, the rising star, face off against the unknown newcomer. But slowly, more people began to gather, drawn in by the intensity of the match.
'Understandable. This fight's way beyond what you'd expect at tier three. The pace, the flow—everything's sharp and intentional. He didn't win twenty-three matches by luck. His form is clean, movements tight, and every step he takes has weight behind it. He's good. Real good.'
Kael ducked and slipped through a barrage of attacks. He weaved around jabs, dodged hooks, and avoided kicks that could have dropped him if they landed clean. Lucian's style was aggressive, but it was disciplined too. Every strike had purpose behind it, every movement set up the next.
Then, Kael saw his moment.
Lucian launched a wide right hook. Kael leaned back just enough to let it pass, the punch missing him by a breath. In that instant, using the motion of his body as a spring, he swung his leg up in a fast, clean arc aimed straight for Lucian's head.
Right before the kick landed, Lucian threw his arms up to block the attack.
'That's odd.'
Kael's gaze sharpened.
'I purposely let my left arm drift, leaving my guard wide open on that side. That should've screamed counter opportunity, but he chose to block instead? Weird choice.'
Lucian's arms absorbed the kick, and though it connected solidly, he barely flinched. Kael landed back on his feet, but didn't press forward.
'He's good. That's obvious. But something's off. Either he's nervous, or he's not used to opponents testing him like this.'
Kael shifted back into a neutral stance and began circling him slowly.
He stepped in again, throwing a sharp one-two combination. The second punch was slightly slower, more obvious. It left a clean gap in his form.
Lucian didn't take it. He pulled back and stayed behind his guard.
'Again with the defense. Is he scared to take a hit?'
Kael moved forward with more aggression, exaggerating a body shot with a wide shoulder movement. At the last moment he pulled back, reading Lucian's reaction.
Lucian raised a knee, tensed his core, and half turned defensively.
Kael stepped away again.
'He's flinching at shadows. I'm not even committing. He's burning stamina for nothing.'
Kael advanced again, this time launching a jab, then dropping low into a feint. He left his side open again.
Lucian saw it. His eyes locked on it. His hand twitched.
Blocked again.
Kael's fist thudded against his guard.
'That's the third time. He's not fighting to win, he's fighting not to lose. Almost like he's testing me.'
Kael stepped back. Both of their breathing was steady and controlled.
'Isn't he a little too good?'
He narrowed his eyes, his cold gaze locking onto Lucian's.
Lucian remained composed, casually rolling his shoulders, clearly still in good enough form to keep going.
'Hope this doesn't get flagged as an "unethical punch.'
The two clashed again, this time with even more force. Kael held back, switching to a fully defensive approach, letting Lucian bring the heat.
He watched every movement carefully.
'Not this one… no. Too shallow.'
'That swing's too wide.'
'No time to react after that one.'
He let the blows come in, close enough to test him but never landing clean. He studied the rhythm, the footwork, the transitions. He waited.
Then he saw it.
Lucian stepped in with that same sequence he had thrown earlier. A three-hit combo ending in a right straight. The angle, the weight shift, even the slight pause before committing, it was all the same.
'There it is.'
As Lucian launched the punch, Kael raised his left arm and deflected it with a precisely timed parry. He let the force of the impact shift his shoulder back, the motion fluid and intentional. Now positioned directly beneath Lucian's guard, Kael was in perfect striking range, his opponent wide open.
His hair lifted slightly with the motion as he twisted into the next movement. Riding the momentum from the parry, Kael whipped his right arm upward in a clean, slicing arc—fast and precise. The way his hand cut through the air, fingers stretched and steady, it moved more like a blade than a fist.
He was aiming directly for Lucian's eye.
No matter how much muscle one built or how hardened the body became, there were always places left vulnerable. Soft tissue, fragile, unprotected. The eyes, the nose…
Kael's expression remained indifferent, cold and unreadable as his body moved on instinct.
'This is it. There's no way he can dodge this.'
The angle, the speed, the timing. It was perfect. Inevitable.
'Then why… why do I feel such unease?'
His eyes narrowed slightly, just enough to betray the tension flickering beneath his calm.
'This should be a clean victory. Every calculation lines up. So why does something feel off?'
His mind raced, scanning every exchange, every moment of the fight.
'Lucian… who are you really?'
Kael's gaze sharpened.
'He blocked every strike I aimed at his vitals. Not most. Every single one. No hesitation. No misread. Just perfect, instinctive defense. That level of precision isn't normal.'
The thought lingered.
'How has he kept up with me this long? I'm a Luminaire. And he's just a mortal… right?'
Kael's eyes widened.
'No way.'
All of these thoughts passed in a single instant, a storm of calculation flashing through Kael's mind just before his fingers reached Lucian's eye.
A fraction of a second before contact, Kael curled his outstretched fingers inward, folding them into a loose fist. The sudden change adjusted the reach of his strike—just enough. The arc of his hand fell short by the smallest margin, missing Lucian's eye by a hair's width, brushing past his eyelashes.
'Is he a plant? Did the Valthorne family put him here?'
The question hit just as Lucian reacted. As if sensing the fatal mistake he'd made, Lucian corrected it instantly. He twisted his body sharply, throwing the full weight of his frame behind a single punch.
Bam.
Lucian's fist crashed into Kael's face like an anvil dropped from a tower. There was no time to block, no room to evade.
Kael took the hit clean.
His vision warped. Sound dulled. And before he could even think of retaliation, darkness swallowed him whole, like a hungry sea pulling him under.
Everything went black.
—
"Ughh…"
Kael groaned, his hand moving instinctively to his face. The sensation was strange. Wrong. Alarmed, he shot upright, using all his strength to push himself up.
"Where am I?"
His voice was tense, edged with urgency. As he sat up, his fingers dug into the cloth wrapped tightly around his head. Without hesitation, he tore a hole over his right eye, letting light flood in through the makeshift gap.
As he moved, a soft hand pressed gently against his wrist.
"Calm down. Geez."
The voice was feminine, unfamiliar. Before Kael could gather his thoughts, he instinctively grabbed the stranger's arm, muscles tensing. He was just a breath away from activating his mote when another voice called out from a little further away, this one familiar.
"Kael, relax. It's me, Darian."
The moment the voice registered, Kael's mind began to piece things together.
'I must be in my room, then.'
He let out a quiet sigh, finally allowing himself to calm down.
"What happened out there, Kael? Literally everyone is talking about your fight with Lucian."
Darian's voice was filled with excitement and curiosity.
Before even thinking of responding, Kael calmly assessed his condition. His hands moved across his ribs, checking for fractures, then up to his face. Everything ached. His entire head was wrapped in bandages, with only his mouth, nose, and the hole he had torn open over his right eye left exposed.
'I really got beat up, huh? But what's up with that force? No way a mortal should be able to hit that hard.'
'No.'
'He was definitely a Luminaire. No doubt about it. And he was placed here by the Valthorne family.'
Kael's gaze turned cold as the thought settled. But before he could dive deeper into it, he felt two hands grab his arm and start shaking him.
"Hello?! Are you still with us?"
Darian had stepped in close, barely able to contain his excitement.
Talia sat quietly on Darian's bed, not saying a word, but her eyes were fixed on Kael, clearly curious to hear how it all went down.