The air around them pulsed with pressure.
The moment Kajin shed his weighted shirt, the wind shifted. Even the dust on the ground seemed to hesitate.
His opponent blinked, still processing the crater left by that simple toss.
"Tch... so that's how it is," the guy muttered, adjusting his stance. "Fine by me."
He lunged.
Kajin didn't move.
Not until the last possible moment.
Then—bang!
He sidestepped and drove his elbow hard into the guy's ribs. The hit landed with a dull thud that forced a grunt from his opponent.
Before the man could recover, Kajin twisted behind him like a shadow and slammed a knee into his lower back.
The guy stumbled forward, but not for long.
"Got you!" the guy roared, swinging around with a wide, sweeping hook.
Kajin ducked under it, slid low, and spun with a sweeping leg kick. It hit.
The man crashed sideways, tearing into the earth with his shoulder.
Cheers and gasps erupted from the watching crowd of students.
But he stood again, blood trickling from his mouth, smiling like a man unshaken.
"Heh… not bad," he said, brushing dirt from his chest. "You finally look like you're taking this seriously."
Kajin cracked his neck.
"Was just warming up."
Fists blurred.
Kajin's punch collided with the guy's jaw—his head snapped sideways, but he didn't fall.
He responded with a brutal hook to Kajin's gut that folded him forward.
Kajin didn't stagger back—he lunged instead, slamming his shoulder into the guy's chest, driving him off balance.
But the man roared, gripping Kajin by the arm and hurled him through the air like a sandbag.
Kajin's back smashed into the ground, tearing up dirt in his wake.
Before he could rise, a heavy boot stomped beside his head—barely missing.
Kajin rolled, just in time, but the guy caught him by the leg mid-roll and dragged him back like a wild beast.
Kajin's face scraped against the earth—blood smearing across his cheek as he gritted his teeth.
He twisted, using the momentum to slam his free foot into the guy's ribs.
The hit landed with a meaty thud—but the man didn't let go.
Instead, he swung Kajin upward and slammed him back-first into the ground again.
Crack!
The impact shook the nearby tree trunks. Dust exploded from the ground.
But through it all—Kajin's hand snapped up.
His fingers dug into the guy's shoulder, and with a roar, he yanked him down and drove his forehead straight into the guy's face.
Bone hit bone.
The muscular guy recoiled, blood bursting from his nose.
Kajin pushed up on one knee, breath ragged, a wild grin splitting his bruised face.
BOOM!
The earth trembled beneath another impact—dust and shockwaves rippled out like a small quake.
Students scattered.
"Move! MOVE!" someone shouted.
Groups of spectators, originally standing too close, broke into a frantic run, diving behind trees and rocks for safety.
Leaves blew wild from the force, and debris zipped through the air like thrown pebbles.
From the floating arena screens high above, Rock's voice boomed across the forest.
"WOAH-HO-HO! What is this madness?! These two maniacs are tearing the ground apart down there! I repeat—this is not a drill!"
His voice cracked with excitement.
"Someone call a medic for the ground, it's getting absolutely disrespected!"
Back in the stadium stands, a roar erupted from the crowd.
"Did you see that hit?!"
"That other one—he got back up again! What's he made of?!"
Gasps and cheers mixed like a storm.
"He's bleeding from the face but still grinning... Is he insane?!"
A few upper-year students narrowed their eyes. Some sat forward, their attention hooked, no longer lounging.
"That guy… Kajin, right? He's no joke."
Another round of seismic impact shook the forest.
A tree nearby cracked and toppled in the background. Birds took off from the branches, fleeing the thunderous shockwaves.
The referee knights standing on watch exchanged tense glances—but none dared interfere yet.
Above the roaring stadium, seated on a grand balcony beneath a silver royal crest, Princess Valeria watched the battlefield in silence.
Her expression was calm, but her eyes were razor-sharp—scanning every movement with quiet intensity.
To her right, seated just behind, Chief Kaito leaned forward with his usual relaxed posture, one leg crossed over the other, chin resting in his hand.
"There are quite a few students with potential this year," the Princess said, her voice soft but certain.
Kaito chuckled.
"Heh… nothing ever escapes Your Highness's eyes."
Behind him, Captain Elira went stiff, a bead of sweat rolling down her cheek.
Suddenly, a sharp voice cut in from the side.
"Chief Kaito."
A man with silver-streaked black hair stepped forward—his white and red uniform marking him as one of the Four Holy Knights, the highest order of guardianship.
"I've told you countless times—not to speak to Her Highness like that."
It was Sir Aurelius Harrnet, one of the four most powerful protectors across the 25 nations, appointed directly to safeguard the royal family.
Their word was second only to the Princess herself.
Kaito raised his hands playfully.
"Sir Aurelius, come now, I was merely admiring the Princess's insight…"
"Still, that doesn't mean you—" Aurelius began, but was cut off.
"Let's not dwell on small matters," the Princess said softly. "Let's enjoy the match."
Beside her, the other three Holy Knights remained silent.
Two of them—both older men—stood tall with arms folded, their expressions unreadable, like still mountains.
The fourth, a woman around twenty-seven, sat a short distance from them with one leg crossed over the other.
Her posture was relaxed, almost casual, yet her presence radiated strength.
A gleaming sword rested by her side, its hilt polished and worn by experience.
Though she didn't speak, her eyes never left the battlefield.
Even in stillness, the Four Holy Knights were like pillars of an empire—silent guardians whose mere presence commanded respect.
And as the clash below continued shaking the land, those on high watched intently—witnessing a fight that could shape the future.
"Pardon Her Highness, if I may," a calm voice spoke from behind.
Hadi al-Zahim, ever polite yet relaxed, leaned forward just a bit in his seat.
The Princess tilted her head slightly without turning around.
"Hmm? What is it, Hadi?"
"That girl in the tournament… the one named Lillith. She's from the Nightrose family."
A moment of silence passed.
The Princess's eyes narrowed in thought.
"Nightrose… Lillith…"
A soft smile played on her lips.
"I knew I recognized her. The last time I saw her, she was just a kid."
Hadi nodded with a small chuckle.
"Looks like she's grown up quite a bit. I'm curious to see how strong she's become."
The Princess leaned slightly to the side, her gaze still fixed on the arena.
"Chief Kaito," she asked with mild curiosity, "do you have any students catching your eye this time?"
Kaito gave a short laugh, stroking his chin.
"Let's see… well, there is one," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement.
The Princess smiled.
"Is that so? Then I suppose I'll pay extra attention."
Ito weaved between trees, his breaths shallow but controlled.
Dirt clung to his legs as his shoes slammed against the forest floor, flag gripped tightly in hand.
Somewhere behind him, the earth groaned—shockwaves of power colliding.
High above, hidden among the branches, Reginald crouched with a sharp gaze. His coat fluttered faintly as he tracked the chaos below.
Faint tremors vibrated through the bark under him.
"Someone's fighting… hard." He clicked his tongue. "But I can't tell who."
His eyes followed Ito.
"That one's still running like a headless chicken. Or—"
A flicker of realization sparked.
"Decoy. Where's the other one gone? Hmph… clever."
He stood.
"So, that's the plan. Lure me into making a move."
His eyes narrowed.
"Fine. Then come catch me."
The forest echoed with sharp cracks—fists colliding, feet slamming into dirt, bark flying as trees were caught in the aftermath of each strike.
Kajin's foot swept low.
The muscular guy leapt back just in time, barely missing the hook of Kajin's leg, but his counter came fast—an elbow aimed at Kajin's temple.
Kajin ducked, twisting mid-step, then launched forward with a rising knee that collided with the man's chest.
A ripple of air burst outward from the hit, pushing leaves and dust away.
The guy grunted, sliding back a step, but planted his foot hard and came back with a flurry of punches—fast, wild, but precise.
Kajin blocked with crossed arms, skidding back, but just as quick, he surged forward and cracked a punch straight into his opponent's jaw.
The man grinned through the pain.
"Now this is more like it," he said.
Neither one gave ground. Every strike was matched.
Every burst of zone aura lit the air with an electric pressure that made nearby students instinctively back away, some shielding their faces from the blast waves.
In the stadium, gasps broke out as the fight continued like a clash of equals—brutal, relentless, yet beautiful in rhythm.