The arena is filled with energy. Every seat was filled, and the crowd, ravenous for humiliation of leonhardt, leaned in eagerly. This wasn't about skill or honor—it was about spectacle. They wanted blood, a show, and most of all, to see Leonhardt Caulem crushed.
Near the front, Rin sat quietly, her emerald eyes fixed on the arena gates, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Around her, the taunts and laughter swirled like a storm. She blocked it out, her worry growing heavier. Leonhardt…
In the middle of the arena, Professor Gidon walked out. "First contenstent—third-year Bronze A student, Garrik Vorne!" he declared, his voice echoing through the stands.
The left gate groaned open, and Garrik emerged like a wild beast. His huge body radiated raw strength, each step eliciting deafening cheers.
"Garrik! Garrik!" the crowd roared. Of Course they all bet on him.
"End it quick!" shouted someone.
"Give us a show!"
Garrik grinned, feeding off their energy, cracking his knuckles loudly as he rolled his shoulders.
Gidon raised a hand to quiet the noise. "And his opponent—second-year Bronze A student, Leonhardt Caulem!"
The name was met with uproarious laughter. The jeers were merciless, echoing through the arena like a storm.
"Trash!"
"You don't even have a Resonance Weapon."
"What's he even doing here?" students shouted.
The right gate groaned open, and Reo walked into the light. His movements were slow and deliberate, his crimson eyes calm and sharp. Tightening the strap on his black combat glove, he stopped across from Garrik, planting himself with casual ease, his stance loose but oddly commanding.
Gidon turned to him, frowning slightly. "Leonhardt, where's your weapon?"
He lifted his right arm, the glove gleaming. "This is my weapon," he said evenly.
The crowd fell silent for a breath, then roared with laughter.
"A glove? Is he serious?"
"He's handing Garrik a win!"
In the royal box, Adrin groaned audibly, dragging a hand down his face. "What is he thinking?" he muttered, his voice heavy with disdain.
Princess Thalina leaned forward slightly, her sapphire eyes narrowing as they locked onto Reo's glove. Something about it struck her as odd, her gaze lingering on the jagged spikes.
"Something is off," Erin's voice, soft and composed, drew her attention. Thalina turned to the silver-haired girl seated beside her. "Right, Princess?"
"That glove," Thalina murmured. "It's… unusual."
"It is," Erin replied simply.
Adrin frowned, glancing between the two. "What are you whispering about now?" he asked.
Erin didn't look at him. "You'll understand after the match," she said smoothly, her voice calm and sure.
Across the arena, in a shadowed chamber on the opposite side, Darius sat alone. His gaze was fixed on Reo, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the intensity in his stare.
Gidon turned to Garrik. "And you? Your weapon?" he asked.
Garrik grinned wide, raising his fists as his knuckles cracked like breaking branches. "Don't need one," he said loudly, drawing a smattering of cheers.
he added with a mocking sneer.
Reo's voice cut in before Gidon could speak. "Unless you want to cry for a resonance weapon," he said, his tone calm, slicing through Garrik's taunt.
Garrik blinked, his smirk faltering as he glared at Reo. The crowd murmured, caught off guard by the interruption.
Gidon, unfazed, raised a hand. "Rules are simple—no killing. The match ends when one fighter yields or can no longer stand."
He stepped back, leaving the two facing each other. Reo tilted his head slightly as he met Garrik's glare. "Hey, fatass," he said casually.
Garrik's grin twisted into a snarl as his fists clenched. "What did you just say?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Reo's smirk didn't falter. "Thanks for the rats last night," he said lightly, rolling his neck. "Made for a good workout."
Gidon raised his hand. "Begin!"
Garrik charged, closing the distance in a blink. His fist swung with brutal force but punch hit empty air, the force of it stirring the dust around him.
He stopped, his instincts kicking in as he sensed movement behind him. Turning around on his heel, he caught Reo's fist in mid-air, his huge hand slamming down like a vice. Garrik's smile grew, his teeth bared in victory as Reo's arm shook under his hold.
"Got you now," Garrik snarled, his voice oozing with confidence.
Reo smirked. Planting a foot on Garrik's thigh, he kicked upward, slamming his boot into Garrik's chin. The force broke Garrik's grip, sending Reo flipping mid-air before he landed lightly on his feet.
Garrik stumbled back, rubbing his chin. "You little—"
Reo gestured for him to come closer. Garrik yells, throwing one punch after another at him, but Reo dodging each hit, hitting back with swift jabs on Garrik's ribcage.
The assault barely affected Garrik, the blows being absorbed by his frame.
Annoyed, Garrik flung a hard punch, and Reo had to use both arms to block it.The impact sent Reo skidding back, tumbling to the ground.
The crowd buzzed with murmurs. "His bones must've shattered," someone said. But Reo stood, brushing off the dust. "That hurt," he muttered, his crimson eyes locked on Garrik with a faint smirk.
In a blink, he surged forward. Garrik's eyes widened, his arms flailing to react, but Reo was already there—a whirlwind of violence.
His fists flew in a relentless storm, hammering Garrik like a punching bag. Left, right, left, right—the blows came too fast to track, black leather and jagged metal slamming into Garrik's chest, gut, and sides.
Garrik stumbled, his massive frame swaying as he tried to shield himself, but Reo's strikes slipped through every gap, pummeling him with humiliating ease.
The crowd's jeers fell silent, replaced by stunned disbelief.
Reo leapt back, coiling like a spring, then launched upward. Twisting mid-air, his gloved fist arced down in a devastating strike, the jagged knuckles crashing into Garrik's cheek.
Garrik's head snapped to the side, his body lurching as if hit by a battering ram. He didn't just stagger—he flopped, arms windmilling as he fought to stay upright, his legs wobbling like a newborn foal's. A spray of spit flew from his mouth.
The arena erupted in gasps as Garrik teetered, dazed and ridiculous.
Blood trickled from Garrik's cheek, a thin red line where the metal spikes had bitten into his flesh. The stands fell deathly quiet—Garrik, the unbreakable titan, reduced to a reeling fool.
Reo landed lightly, brushing his glove against his pants as he tilted his head. His voice cut through the hush, mocking and sharp. "What's this? Gonna let yourself get spanked like that? Or are you finally pulling out that fancy resonance weapon?"
Garrik's face twisted, fury boiling over as he shook off the stupor, blood dripping onto the sand. "You're begging for a coffin," he shouted, his voice filled with rage. He squared his stance, raising both fists high. The air around them shimmered, a low hum vibration through the arena as something began to take shape.
The shimmer solidified into massive golden gauntlets, their surfaces gleaming with brutal elegance. The metal dense enough to crush stone, the edges sharp and remorseless.
Whispers rippled through the crowd, awe and excitement threading their voices.
"There it is—Solmire family's pride!"
"Those gauntlets can smash mountains flat."
"He's done it—Leonhardt's finished now."
"Kid's about to smear on the sand."
"They say they toppled fortress walls in the old wars."
Reo watched the transformation, his smirk unfading. He shifted his weight, sliding into a martial artist's stance—knees bent, fists raised, the gloved hand poised like a loaded cannon.
His crimson eyes glinted with something wild, something hungry. "Now that's more like it," he said, his voice low and taunting. "Love you, baby—let's start."