Kill The King (IV)

After a second of mental purchase, Reyy smirked.

"So, this is the strength you've been hiding?" He asked, his hands bustling up in flames again. "Interesting."

He threw a set of fireballs at Michael, but before they could even reach, he vanished, black smoke still lingering the air. This was Michael's advantage, he was trying to make good use of his stealth mode while the smoke screen still existed.

Reappearing again behind Reyy, his attack had already been made. A sharp line of cut sliced down the king's back, staining his clothes with blood. Reyy craned himself around, but he had lost sight of Michael immediately.

His eyes glowered with rage, and as he paced around restlessly, his exasperation doubled his anger.

"Why do you keep hiding?!" Reyy demanded, speaking particularly to no one in sight. "Come out and stop hiding beneath your cheap talent."

As he spoke, he heard a cut splatter in his shoulder. He threw a fireball in the same direction, but it only crashed against the arena's wall.

"This is no talent." Michael explained. "It's a skill that confines the user's presence, sound and even scent, making him unable to trace. I expect someone of your reputation to know this."

"The Stealth Mode." Reyy's brain picked up in remembrance. "A skill as cheap as that won't work against me."

"Would it?"

Reyy felt rapid cuts throughout the whole of his body, all seizing his blood from all angles. His face. His legs. His back. He had sustained wounds in every possible areas, and each one felt like a knife had been driven into his skin, demanding by every possible means for blood.

This was the farthest Michael could go with the stealth skill, as the smoke screen was starting to dissipate, giving the students a clearer sight of what was going on.

Disengaging from the mode, he appeared behind Reyy, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"My god!" The students exclaimed as they saw how batterly injured Reyy was. "How—? When?!"

"Alright, alright... I may have underestimated you." Reyy chuckled inwardly, his lips scarred with cut marks and stained with blood. "I was expecting less from someone who just began his redemption arc."

Wait, how does he know about the redemption arc?

"Surprised?" Reyy asked. "I suspected you could've just dealt with your bullies from the start if you had the power to. And it's funny how you were reported dead and yet, still returned back alive."

Michael's eyes lowered. "So?"

"You had a reawakening didn't you? That explains the confidence you had to come after me."

Questions raced past Michael's mind. Yeah, reawakening was a thing in the world, and it mostly happened to people whose talents couldn't be potentially developed.

But Reyy had been exact to even know that he was currently under his redemption arc. Was this a possibility that the king was also... A System user too?

No. That couldn't be it.

"Your silence suggests I'm right." Reyy started to pull of his shirt. "Now that that's confirmed, I can stop holding back."

He flung his shirt away, only his bare, wounded body exposed to everyone. Reyy was jacked, his muscles and abs solidly the first apparent thing anyone would see.

The scars on his body spoke of his previous fights, each one bigger than the last. His aura doubled twice the former, and the ethereal glow around him became more brighter.

"I hope you find this honorable!" As he lunged at Michael, he was a speed like lightning, his eyes streaking with light as he landed an unseen flame punch on his opponent's face.

The force was just enough to make Michael ripple through to the ground, but he grabbed his collar, gave him a knee jab. A punch. And a dozen more punches— all within a split second.

Michael went crumpling on the floor, his blood splattering in Reyy's face. A kick accompanied, throwing his guts backwards. The force slid him off, but Reyy still chased after him and stomped on his foot with aggression.

[WARNING! HEALTH AT CRITICAL DAMAGE!]

[WARNING! HEALTH AT CRITICAL DAMAGE!]

[WARNING! HEALTH AT CRITICAL DAMAGE!]

"Shit." Michael grunted as he saw another wave of disco fireballs headed his way.

[Ding! QUEST FOUND]

* * *

Micheal eyes opened, light piercing in and so they watered. He felt dropkicked, every of his muscles aching in searing pain. His head was rested beneath the familiar softness of a pillow, and it wasn't until he got a good look at the ceiling above him before he realized...

"This isn't my room."

His head ached in response, his brain trying to recollect what had happened. He remembered how he'd last seen Reyy's fireballs headed towards him, definitely losing consciousness after that.

It was nothing but a miracle that he was alive now. Considering death had knocked aggressively, whispering loudly into his ears.

But where was he?

He sat up and looked around, now observing bandages wrapped around his body. Asides that, there was Lena, slumbering as she sat on recliner beside the bed.

"Did she bring me here?" He asked. He hadn't noticed her around during his fight in the Arena, but somehow she had been able to come to his rescue.

And did she stay here all night watching after him?

"You're alive." Lena said as her hazel eyes fluttered open, expressing disappointment rather than relief.

"Why did you help me?" Michael asked.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, I only wanted to make sure you weren't dead so we won't have any troubles."

"Gee... Thanks." Michael replied with a hint at sarcasm, his eyes surveying the bandages wrapped around him.

"I think I'm going to regret rooting for your survival." Lena admitted. "What in the world gave you such motivation to go after Reyy?"

"He offered me a deal I couldn't resist." Michael shrugged.

"And you think he'd be stupid enough to just give up his position?" Lena sighed with exasperation. "Let's be realistic here."

Michael's eyes surveyed the room, his gaze anywhere but at Lena's.

"Anyways... Thanks for saving me, really. I thought I was really going to die back there."

"It's fine." Lena sighed and stood. "You can leave when you're fully recovered."

As she made to leave, Michael abruptly caught her arm.

"What?" She asked, turning to look at him.

"I.. Uh..." Michael looked for words but couldn't find any. He as well questioned why he had suddenly held her back. "It's nothing."

"Okay." She said and left.