Traditional Fight

"The first round will be... Arm wrestling."

As the referee announced, the atmosphere instantly shifted. The casual chatter faded into an eager silence, replaced by murmurs of anticipation.

Students rushed to bring a sturdy table and two chairs, placing them precisely in the middle of the ring. The metallic clang of the table legs against the floor echoed through the hall, amplifying the tension.

Avasyu's eyes widened as he thought, "Arm wrestling? This is unexpected..." Glancing at Ash, he noticed his friend's signature smirk,confident, as if he had predicted this all along.

Yet, for Avasyu, the surprise quickly dissolved. "It doesn't matter now. I'll give it my best." Determined, he approached the table.

Both of them sat down, placing their right elbows on the smooth surface. Their fingers intertwined in a firm grip as they stared into each other's eyes. Avasyu felt a subtle nervousness, his shyness making his gaze falter momentarily. In contrast, Ash's gaze remained steady, his smirk unwavering.

The referee, standing beside them, checked their posture carefully. He adjusted their elbows for fairness, ensuring neither had an advantage. The tension in the room thickened with every passing second.

"Are both participants ready?" the referee asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

"Yes, we are," both boys replied in unison.

The referee raised his hand. "Alright... The round starts in... Three... Two... One... Let's begin the fight!"

Then both of them started pushing each other's hands. The tension in the room thickened as the match began. The sound of creaking wood echoed from the table beneath them, straining under the pressure. Students surrounding the ring cheered loudly, most of them calling out for Ash.

"Come on, Ash! Crush him!"

"You got this, number one!" someone shouted, their voice rising above the crowd.

Ash's expression remained confident, a smirk dancing across his face as his arm muscles flexed like coiled steel. His hand felt like a boulder against Avasyu's grip, immovable and overwhelmingly strong. It was no surprise that the atmosphere had shifted from tension to excitement,everyone believed this was a sure win for Ash.

But Avasyu, though struggling, refused to back down. His arm trembled under the weight of Ash's power, veins surfacing on his forearm. His face tightened with effort, lips pressed into a thin line. He thought, "He's strong... but I can't just give up."

What Avasyu didn't know was that Ash wasn't just any student,he was the number one in the academy. Yet, in this moment, that title didn't matter. All that stood before Avasyu was a challenge he needed to overcome.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, Avasyu's body began to adapt. His muscles reacted to the strain, absorbing the force Ash exerted. His hand stopped shaking. The crowd, noticing this shift, fell into a stunned silence. Even Ash's grin wavered, his reddish-orange eyes narrowing as he felt the resistance grow stronger.

"What's this?" Ash thought. "He's... matching me?"

Avasyu was thinking, "He is indeed a tough opponent... but I want to beat him."

Determined, he tightened his grip and pushed against Ash's hand with renewed force. Slowly but surely, Ash's hand began to tilt toward the table. The crowd, which had been cheering loudly for Ash moments ago, quieted as they noticed the shift in momentum. Murmurs rippled through the audience.

"Is he really pushing back Ash?" someone whispered.

Ash's expression, once confident, began to waver. His usual smirk faded, replaced by a look of mild surprise as Avasyu's strength proved greater than he had anticipated. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and the crowd held its breath.

Avasyu's arm trembled with effort, veins prominent, face clenched in concentration. He felt the resistance lessen bit by bit as Ash's hand inched closer to the table.

Then, after about five intense minutes, something changed. Avasyu glanced at Ash's face,and his heart skipped a beat. Ash's surprised expression was gone, replaced with calm confidence. His eyes glinted, as if this had been part of his plan all along.

"He knew this would happen?" Avasyu thought, confused. His arms began to strain, muscles fatigued from the prolonged effort. His strength was slowly depleting and Ash noticed.

With a sly smirk, Ash began pushing back. His hand, once perilously close to defeat, reversed course with alarming speed. Avasyu's arms burned, but his grip faltered. In a sudden surge, Ash slammed Avasyu's hand down onto the table, winning the round.

The crowd erupted in cheers. "Ash! Ash! Ash!" they chanted, their voices echoing through the training hall. The referee, standing between them, raised Ash's hand into the air. "Winner of the first round,Ash!"

Applause thundered, but not a single cheer sounded for Avasyu. Yet, he didn't hear the crowd. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment when Ash's expression changed. "What did I just see...?" he wondered, panting.

His mind was restless. What was that? For a split second before Ash overpowered him, Avasyu had seen something,Ash's veins had glowed with a reddish-orange hue, like molten fire surging beneath his skin. The image burned in his mind, vivid yet fleeting, like a spark in the dark. His hand still radiated warmth from their clash, a lingering heat that made the hairs on his arm stand on end.

Was that... his superpower? Avasyu wondered. But the phenomenon had vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving him with more questions than answers.

The referee's voice echoed through the hall, cutting through his thoughts.

"I want to announce that the next round will begin after a 15-minute break. Contestants, please prepare yourselves. Audience, thank you for your patience."

Excitement buzzed through the crowd. Conversations swirled about what the next round could be. Bets and predictions were thrown around, with most favoring Ash. But a few spectators, having noticed Avasyu's brief upper hand in the arm wrestling match, whispered about the newcomer's surprising strength.

Avasyu found a quiet corner, flexing his fingers. "What was that power of his? And... how do I beat it?" He glanced at Ash, who stood across the ring chatting casually with some classmates, his carefree smile unchanged. There's more to him than just strength.

Five minutes before the next round, the referee returned to the ring, drawing everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice ringing out, "the second round of our traditional fight will be..."

The crowd held its breath, tension mounting in the air.

"A circle of Tag."