The boy's fingers unfurled—slowly, deliberately.
The crumpled fabric of the flag slipped from his hand.
At that exact moment, Gakurei released his wrist.
The flag dropped.
The bespectacled student's left hand lunged forward, aiming to snatch it midair—but a sharp deflection slapped his arm away.
Gakurei's hand, swift and precise, knocked it aside with just enough force.
Their eyes locked.
No words—just an electric stillness between them, the weight of unspoken rivalry heavy in the air.
Wind brushed past.
Then—
A blur.
Ito dove in from the side, dirt scattering beneath his shoes.
His fingers stretched. The flag fluttered just inches from the ground.
His hand snapped shut around it—caught.
A breath later, silence.
Flag secured.
The bespectacled boy's eyes followed the motion—Ito, holding the flag tightly, dust clinging to his sleeves from that desperate dive.
The three of them—Reginald, Gakurei, and Ito—created a triangle of tension in the clearing, each maintaining distance.
Reginald exhaled slowly, clearly irritated that things didn't go as planned.
His gaze lowered briefly, then lifted behind his glasses.
"…Reginald Loria," he said, calm but with a cold edge. "Try not to forget it."
Gakurei didn't flinch. His legs were planted, body tilted slightly forward, hands up—ready to strike at a moment's notice. "Gakurei."
"Ito Tatsuki," Ito added, narrowing his eyes. "Why are you so focused on my flag? You've been targeting me specifically, haven't you?"
Reginald didn't answer right away. His silence said enough—there was a reason, but he wasn't ready to give it.
Reginald adjusted his glasses with a slight push of his finger.
"I have no obligation to answer you," he said flatly.
In the next breath, his hand darted into his pocket.
Flick.
A sharp whistle cut through the air—stone, fast and precise, hurled straight at Ito's face.
Ito's eyes widened, his body too slow to react. That stone—it was definitely going to hit.
But—
Clack
A hand shot in front of him—Gakurei's.
He caught it.
The impact rang through the clearing.
The force of the stone sent a tremor up Gakurei's arm, his muscles tensing, fingers twitching slightly around the cracked edges of the projectile.
He didn't flinch. But the mark on his palm told enough.
Ito glanced at Gakurei's hand, concern etched into his voice.
"You alright…?"
Before Gakurei could answer, Ito's gaze shifted—
Reginald was gone.
"Wait… where did he—?"
Thwack!
A sharp impact cracked the air.
Ito's leg buckled.
His breath hitched as a stone struck clean against his right knee, the sound of tearing fabric followed by a warm rush soaking into his pants.
Blood seeped through, vivid against the dull tones of the forest floor.
He dropped to one knee, grimacing, fingers clenching the dirt.
Gakurei's eyes darted around sharply—
"He used that first throw… as cover," he muttered.
Another stone attack. From the shadows. This one hit its mark.
He crouched beside Ito.
"Can you walk?"
The pain contorted Ito's face, but he forced his head up, jaw tight.
"…Yeah. I can."
Gakurei knelt beside Ito, eyes calm but sharp.
"You've got two options."
Ito gritted his teeth, sweat trailing down his temple as he braced his bloodied knee.
"One," Gakurei said, "You give up your flag. No disgrace.
Just vanish into the trees and wait until this is over."
He paused, his voice hardening.
"But this is the last round. There's no next time after this."
Ito's eyes didn't waver.
Gakurei gave a small nod, then leaned in close.
"Or you go through hell. Take the pain, bite down, and we take that bastard down."
Ito didn't answer with words.
He shifted his injured leg, slowly rising with effort. The pain was obvious—but so was his refusal.
"I'm not backing down now," he said.
A faint grin tugged at the corner of Gakurei's mouth. "Thought so."
He bent forward, whispering something into Ito's ear—quiet, precise instructions.
Meanwhile, high above, perched atop a wide tree branch, Reginald flexed his wrist with a small wince.
"That grip… damn," he muttered.
He scowled down at the clearing, irritation building in his chest.
I should've ended it sooner. Sloppy…"
His eyes narrowed as they fell on Ito again, still clutching the flag.
"Well, doesn't matter. I'll get that flag."
The wind picked up around him.
"It's ma'am's order, after all."
And with a flicker of movement, Reginald disappeared into the branches once again.
Meanwhile—
A fist tore through the air, missing Kajin's cheek by inches.
The force of the punch carved a sharp gust behind it, but not without consequence—a thin, red line appeared on his cheek, blood trickling down slowly.
He'd barely dodged it.
"Damn," Kajin muttered. He swiped the blood with two fingers, then casually brought them to his lips, licking it off with a smirk.
"You're fast."
The muscular guy cracked his knuckles, a wicked grin spreading across his broad face.
"You should've stayed a loyal little mutt at our idol's feet," he said. "Now you're gonna regret turning on us."
Kajin's grin widened. His eyes sharpened.
"Is that so?" His eyes gleamed. "Then I'm looking forward to it."
Silence cracked like glass.
BOOM!
The earth split beneath the musclehead's boots as he surged forward, zone aura bursting around him like white-hot steam.
Trees trembled. Rocks lifted. A sonic wake tore through the clearing.
Kajin didn't flinch. He was already moving.
Their fists collided mid-charge—shockwaves exploded out, sending leaves spiraling and birds scattering from the treetops.
The air quivered with pressure. Punch after punch blurred between them—raw, violent rhythm. But it was clear: Kajin was taking the heavier hits.
His jaw snapped sideways from a brutal left hook.
A sharp cut bloomed on his cheekbone.
His ribs bent under a thudding gut punch.
And still… he smiled.
Blood trickled from his lip. He licked it off, slowly—like tasting victory before it came.
That glint in his eye? It wasn't madness.
It was thrill.
The musclehead's eye twitched. "You seriously enjoying this?"
Kajin shrugged, knuckles twitching. The grin deepened.
A snarl ripped from the guy's throat. "Fine—laugh at this!"
"RAAAAAAAAAGH!"
All the zone aura in his body flooded to one arm—glowing white, spiraling fast, pressure howling around his clenched fist.
WHAM!!
The blow landed.
Kajin's body shot backwards like a cannonball—branches snapped, dirt erupted beneath his boots—but right before crashing into a thick oak behind him, his foot dug into the ground.
Zone aura burst under his sole, grinding his momentum to a halt with inches to spare.
His back arched slightly as he caught himself, breath sharp.
Dust settled.
His lips curled again.
Tch…" He flexed his fingers once. "Almost got me there."
He stepped forward, blood rolling down his neck, eyes locked with the enemy like a wolf that had tasted first blood.
The sound of battle cracked through the forest like thunder.
More and more students turned their heads—drawn by the clash.
Without warning, the bulky fighter lunged again—his boots barely brushing the earth as he blitzed forward.
His fist blurred, tearing through the air.
CRACK!
The ground split where Kajin had just been.
He'd jumped at the last second, air rushing past his face as the shockwave trailed beneath his boots.
Kajin twisted midair, spun, and launched a sharp kick toward the side of the man's neck.
Thud!
Direct hit.
The man's head barely tilted.
A smile cracked across his face—too wide, too calm. "That's all you got?"
His hand snapped up, catching Kajin's leg in one crushing grip.
Wham!
Kajin's body whipped downward, slammed into the dirt like a ragdoll.
The earth cratered beneath the impact.
Blood came from his mouth. Before he could recover, he was hurled like a broken toy straight into a tree—his back slammed against the trunk with a gut-wrenching thud.
Bark shattered. Leaves rained down.
Kajin slid down to one knee, panting.
He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"…Yeah," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. "You're right."
His eyes lifted, burning now.
"I shouldn't have taken you lightly."
Kajin took off his uniform, revealing a plain black T-shirt underneath.
The muscular guy scoffed. "Did you really think throwing clothes off would make any difference?"
But as Kajin pulled the shirt from his body and tossed it aside—
Boom!
The ground cracked where the shirt landed, the sheer weight creating a shockwave of dust and debris.
The guy's eyes widened. "What the hell…?"
Zayden, Sara and Shion blinked in disbelief.
"That's insane, he was wearing that heavy thing this whole time."
Eriska folded her arms. "Yeah, he's one big idiot who uses this for his training."
Meanwhile, Lillith watched with a hint of amusement, her lips curving into a grin. "Hmm... interesting."
Kajin rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "Sorry for keeping you waiting. Now—let's continue."