Reo stood still, his crimson eyes fixed on Garrik's broken body lying on the sand. The golden gauntlets were vanishing into thin air.
He's done, Reo thought, turning away. His steps were slow, each one a struggle as pain rippled through his battered body. His ribs ached, his stomach throbbed, but he walked tall.
He glanced at Gidon, who stood frozen in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to speak. A faint smirk flickered across Reo's lips.
But inside, memories swirled.
Leonhardt's cries from a year ago echoed in his mind—pleas for mercy, drowned out by Garrik's laughter and punches. The bitter humiliation, the endless pain—it all came rushing back.
Reo clenched his fist and lightly tapped it against his temple. Calm down, Leonhardt, he told himself. It's over. I've taken revenge for you.
But then, a groan caught his attention which is low and weak.
Reo stopped, sighing heavily.
He turned back, his smirk twisting into something darker. Slowly, he walked toward Garrik amd knelt down, crimson eyes locking onto Garrik's trembling face.
"Hello there, fatass," Reo said, his voice calm but cutting. Garrik coughed weakly, blood dripping from his mouth. "I… I yield," he whispered, barely able to get the words out os his mouth.
Reo tilted his head, his smirk fading into something colder. "You yield?" he asked. Garrik gave a weak nod, his voice shaking. "Y-Yes… I yield."
Reo raised his gloved fist high, the first punch landed—a brutal, bone-shattering blow that smashed into Garrik's cheek with a resounding crack, the sound wet as blood sprayed across the sand in a vivid arc.
Garrik's head snapped to the side, a ragged scream tearing from his throat, high and broken, his face contorting in anguish as the metal bit deep. "N-No—!" he gasped.
Reo didn't pause. Another punch followed—harder, fiercer—crashing into Garrik's jaw, teeth grinding audibly as his head whipped back, blood and spit flying in a gruesome spray. "Stop—please!" Garrik wailed, his voice cracking into a desperate, keening cry, tears mingling with the blood streaming down his swollen face.
Reo didn't stop. Punch after punch rained down, each one heavier than the last.
The crowd sat frozen, too stunned to move or speak.
Then, a voice broke the silence.
"What… what's going on?" someone stammered, disbelief trembling in their words.
"Garrik just… lost? This isn't real!"
"I bet all my savings on Garrik! This can't be happening!"
"He's rigged it! Some filthy trick!"
"That glove—it's suspicious!"
"He clearly cheated! This isn't fair!"
The crowd's voices rose, a storm of accusations and outrage sweeping through the stands.
"ENOUGH!" Reo's voice thundered through the arena, sharp and commanding.
It was loud and carried absolute authority. The chaos stopped instantly, the crowd silenced, their breaths caught. Slowly, deliberately, he raised a hand, his glove hand finger pressing lightly against his lips—a silent signal that carried more weight than any shout could.
The crowd froze. The gesture was simple, but the intensity in Reo's gaze made it impossible to ignore. His eyes swept over the stands, sharp and piercing, holding each spectator in place as if daring them to defy him. The silence that followed was eerie, absolute, as if the entire arena had been plunged into a vacuum.
Reo shifted his gaze to the royal chamber, locking eyes with Darius. His smirk came back, cold and menacing, a silent threat of vengeance. Darius stiffened, his calm expression cracking under the weight of Reo's stare.
Focusing again on Garrik, his punches continued, Brutal as ever. Fire raged around his glove, every blow sending sparks and heat waves through the air.
With one last blow, flame burst from the glove, and Garrik's body went skidding across the sand, traveling several meters before coming to rest in a motionless heap.
Professor Gidon at last broke out of his trance, bringing up a shaking hand. "W-Winner… Leonhardt Caulem!" he called out, his voice trembling. The words resonated through the arena, accompanied by utter silence.
Reo stood motionless in the arena's center. His crimson eyes flicked downward, narrowing as a faint shimmer of text materialized in his vision.
[HOSTILE ELIMINATED!]
[EXCELLENT PERFORMANCE! STATS ENHANCED!]
[STATS UPDATED STRENGTH: 37 → 39 ENDURANCE: 29 → 33 DEFENSE: 31 → 33 SPEED: 39 → 42 STAMINA: 34 → 38 MANA CAPACITY: 18 → 23 INTELLIGENCE: 70 BATTLE INTELLIGENCE: 83 SOUL RESONANCE WEAPON: None]
[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED!]
[Copy Resonance: Replicate a scanned resonance weapon for three minutes. Cooldown: 24 hours]
[SKILL UPGRADE!]
[Precision Strike → Level 2: Impact increased by 10%]
[ALERT!]
[New Reward Acquired: Strength Enhancer Potion x1]
[Effect: Strength boosted for 10 minutes upon use]
[Strength Enhancer Potion moved to Item Space]
[ALERT!]
[Item Space Unlocked!]
[ITEM SPACE]
[Bear Defense x2]
[Strength Enhancer Potion x1]
Reo's smirk deepened, a flicker of satisfaction sparking in his eyes as he flexed his gloved hand. Not bad at all, he mused, dismissing the overlay with a mental image.
In the royal box, Adrin sat dumbfounded, mouth wode opened as his mind grappled with the impossible scene below.
Erin's voice crept into his trance, smooth and edged with a teasing undertone. "Quite the show, wasn't it, big brother?" she said with a smile.
Adrin snapped back into sense, he noticed Thalina and Selene's intense gazes pinned on Reo, their faces a mixture of awe and curiosity.Erin leaned back with a serene smile, savoring the moment, while Adrin shook his head, his voice rough with astonishment. "How in the hell did he manage that?"
Thalina's gaze remained on Leonhardt, her fingers tightening subtly on the armrest as she spoke, her tone calm yet fascinated. "It's the metal on the knuckles of his glove—Voltsteel."
"Voltsteel?" Adrin repeated, his brow creasing as he turned to her. "Wait, isn't that the stuff mages use in their staff to amplify their spells?"
Selene nodded, her gray eyes sharp and analytical as she leaned forward slightly. "Yes. It's a rare alloy—amplifies magic output for those with the skill to wield it. But it's more than that—it can store mana, holding it like a reservoir until it's released. But it needs immense concentration to hold it."
Adrin's eyes narrowed, his mind racing to catch up. "So what's the play here? How does that explain… that?" He gestured vaguely toward the arena, where Garrik lay broken.
Erin's smile turned knowing, her voice measured and clear as she took the lead. "Leonhardt's raw strength couldn't touch Garrik—those punches wouldn't even scratch that mountain of muscle. His only shot was to hit him where it hurts most: inside."
Thalina picked up the thread, her tone gaining a quiet intensity. "Everybody has a limit to how much mana it can channel in a single burst. For someone like Leonhardt, with barely a trickle of natural mana capacity, a direct attack would've been laughable—nowhere near enough to faze Garrik."
Adrin's expression shifted, a spark of understanding flaring as he leaned in. "So he loaded up that Voltsteel with mana, stockpiled it like a damn cannon, then slammed it straight into Garrik's core with that punch. All that thunder mana, unleashed point-blank."
"Precisely," Erin said. "It wasn't about brute force—it was surgical. One concentrated blast, right where it'd do the most damage."
Selene tilted her head, her brow furrowing as a question surfaced. "But why drag it out? He took a beating—let Garrik pound him senseless. If he had that kind of power ready, why not end it fast?"
Thalina's lips curved into a faint, shrewd smile as she glanced at Selene, then toward Liana standing steadfast at the viewpoint. "To tilt the odds," she said simply, her voice laced with admiration. "He played the game beyond the fight."
Selene's eyes widened, her gaze snapping to Liana in stunned realization. Erin's chuckle was soft, her violet eyes glinting with approval. "He let the stakes climb—let everyone pile their bets on Garrik, convinced he was losing one sided. Then, when the ratio hit its peak, he had his maid place a fortune on himself."
Adrin let out a low, incredulous laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's ruthless—pure, calculated ruthlessness. He turned their greed into his weapon."
Up at the viewpoint, Lucian's hands gripped the railing until the metal groaned, his eyes fixed on his brother below. What are you now, Leonhardt? he thought.