Chapter 12: Humiliation (1)

Oscar stood on the arena platform, his shabby cloak hanging loosely around his thin frame and his bare feet planted awkwardly on the ground. His hands pressed nervously against his flushed cheeks, his entire body trembling as though the crowd's piercing gazes were scorching him. His disheveled appearance and timid demeanor only heightened the stark contrast between him and his opponent, Keir Arson.

Keir, the embodiment of the Arson family's fiery reputation, stood tall and imposing on the opposite side of the arena. His short, blazing-red hair framed a confident face, his physique robust and well-defined for someone so young. Dressed in a sleeveless crimson coat, Keir exuded power and self-assurance, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. His demeanor radiated the pride and dignity of the Arson lineage, but his expression was one of irritation, his fiery eyes narrowing as he regarded Oscar with contempt.

With an annoyed scowl, Keir raised a hand and pointed directly at Oscar. "You should leave the arena now if you don't want to get hurt," he said, his disdainful tone cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "This is a waste of time. My opponent should've been Aelric Skyguard. But instead, they pair me with you—a pathetic loser. Are they trying to insult me or something?"

Oscar opened his mouth, his lips trembling as he tried to respond, but the words came out as little more than incoherent murmurs. His head hung low, and his shoulders shook, but despite Keir's venomous taunts, he didn't move. His hands fumbled nervously inside his cloak, pulling out a note. With shaky hands, he began scribbling something onto it, his movements erratic and jittery. The sight of Oscar's actions only seemed to irritate Keir more, his frustration growing as he interpreted the silence as a blatant disregard.

Up in the professor's seating area, Alden leaned forward, concern etched across his face. "Keir's physique is remarkable for someone his age. He's clearly been training intensely. I wonder… is he a Vitalist or a Mage?"

Evelyn chimed in, her tone tinged with unease. "The Arson family's fire affinity is legendary. If he's a Mage, his control over flames could be devastating even at this early stage of development."

Rayner nodded, his sharp eyes fixed on the red-haired student. "His build is too developed for a typical Mage. His stance suggests a focus on close combat, and he doesn't carry a weapon. My guess is that he's a martial artist—a Vitalist specializing in hand-to-hand combat."

Alden's frown deepened as his gaze shifted back to Oscar, who looked like he had no chance of standing against such a powerful opponent. "This doesn't look good for Ravenleaf," he said grimly.

"Well, the duel will be stopped before anyone gets hurt, so it's fine," Evelyn said, shrugging.

The judge, ignoring the banter between Keir and Oscar, reiterated the rules of the duel with a calm, authoritative tone before signaling for it to begin.

Oscar, silent and still, reached up and adjusted the tattered cloth draped around his neck, pulling it up to cover his nose and mouth like a mask. With the lower half of his face concealed, his trembling stopped, and the nervous energy that had enveloped him seemed to dissipate entirely. The shift was subtle but undeniable—the very air around him felt different, sharper, more focused.

Keir's irritation deepened as he interpreted Oscar's actions as theatrics. With an audible scoff, he took up a fighting stance, his left arm extended forward, right arm drawn close to his chest. His muscles tensed as he prepared to end the fight swiftly. Without hesitation, he dashed forward, his powerful strides propelling him with startling speed across the arena.

But just as Keir reached the center of the arena, something unexpected happened. Oscar moved.

With a burst of speed so sudden it was almost imperceptible, Oscar vanished from his spot and reappeared in the center, directly in Keir's path. His eyes, previously hidden beneath his unruly hair, now glimmered with an icy focus.

Keir's instincts kicked in. Startled but quick to react, he planted his left foot firmly, grinding his momentum to a halt. Using the twist of his waist to redirect the force, he unleashed a powerful right punch aimed squarely at Oscar.

Oscar, however, did not back down. Nor did he dodge.

Pivoting gracefully on his left foot, he performed a textbook-perfect tornado kick, his right leg arcing in a deadly, fluid motion to meet Keir's incoming punch. The collision of Keir's clenched fist against Oscar's bare foot created a deafening BOOM!

A shockwave rippled outward, the force of the clash shaking the arena floor and silencing the murmurs of the crowd.

For a moment, there was only stunned silence. The students stared, wide-eyed, struggling to comprehend what they had just witnessed. Whispers erupted in hushed, bewildered tones as they asked each other if anyone had managed to follow the sequence of events.

The professors were equally stunned, though their reactions were tempered by experience. Professor Alden's expression is one of disbelief. "Oscar Ravenleaf… Is a Vitalist? With that physique?" he murmured, the words carrying both awe and confusion.

Professor Evelyn leaned forward, her gaze locked on the boy in the arena. "He's not just fast," she said, her voice tinged with astonishment. "That clash—his physical strength is no less than Keir's. And his technique… it's flawless."

Professor Rayner nodded slowly, his sharp eyes narrowing. "This boy isn't as simple as he appears. Could it be that his frail demeanor, his nervousness—were all fake?."

Back in the arena, both Keir and Oscar leapt backward after their initial clash, the force of their respective movements creating a brief gust of air that rippled across the arena floor.

Keir's eyes widened in disbelief as he processed what had just happened. First, he hadn't anticipated Oscar's explosive speed; the frail-looking boy had closed the gap in an instant. Second, his powerful punch—delivered with all the force of his honed strength—had been blocked. Worse, he could feel the lingering sting in his knuckles, a testament to the sheer power of Oscar's kick.

Grinding his teeth, Keir forced himself to focus. The fight he'd thought would be over in seconds had proven far tougher than expected. His opponent's appearance and nervous demeanor were a complete deception. Clenching his fists, he steadied his stance, his crimson aura beginning to flare faintly around him.

Oscar, on the other hand, remained eerily calm. His hunched posture was gone, replaced by a focused stillness. He adjusted the cloth mask covering his face and shifted slightly, his cloak billowing lightly as he prepared for Keir's next move.

Keir let out a low growl and charged again, his fiery aura blazing brighter. This time, he wouldn't hold back. His fists crackled with heat as he unleashed a flurry of rapid punches, each strike aimed to overwhelm Oscar with raw power and unrelenting aggression.

But Oscar moved like a shadow, slipping through the onslaught with effortless grace. Each punch missed its mark by mere inches, his evasive footwork so precise it seemed choreographed.

As Keir's relentless barrage continued, Oscar's hand darted into his cloak. In one smooth, practiced motion, he drew two long, wickedly sharp daggers. Their polished blades gleamed under the sunlight, catching the attention of the entire arena. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd at the sight of the deadly weapons.

"Dual-wielding daggers!" Professor Alden exclaimed, his voice filled with intrigue as he leaned forward to get a better look.

Rayner, seated beside him, scoffed. "So a Ravenleaf remains a Ravenleaf. It seems like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all."