With each swing, kick, punch, counter, parry, and dodge, I saw that I was pushing Malo back, and I saw in his eyes, in his defensive posture, that he knew it as well.

  He wasn’t panicking yet though. His stance still held its firm steadiness, his axe still moving to meet my blows, enduring my unrelenting blows that hit all of his weak spots.

  He was waiting for me to get tired before making his move.

  It wasn’t a bad tactic.

  But after that shot to your solar plexus, and after everything I’ve thrown at you since, I wonder, Malo—

  What will give out first?

  My stamina, or your guard?

  A booming voice shattered the intensity that emanated from the both of us for a brief period.

  Gabno stood from his seat with an excited air to him. “My dear fellow spectators, I can hardly believe the words about to leave my mouth, nor the sight before my very eyes!” His voice thundered. “Malo, the undisputed champion of battles, a member of the Zenith Generation itself, those destined to reshape the world, is losing ground to the young upstart, Beric! At this rate, the idea of Malo losing may no longer be fantasy, and it is now quickly approaching the realm of reality!”

  The stands erupted into chaos. The sheer force of the crowd’s voice made the stone seats tremble, their stomps and cheers pounding like war drums.

  Somewhere in the seats, Merrol leaned toward Lucian, her face nervous but hopeful. “Is Beric winning?”

  Lucian’s expression was somewhere between awe and disbelief. “He is.”

  Next to them, Arthur leaned forward with his jaw wide open. He nudged Elaine. “Elaine, that’s Beric, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s our brother? Our little brother?”

  “Yes,” she answered again.

  Arthur shot up from his seat, cupping his hands around his mouth and bellowing so loudly even those on the far end of the arena could hear: “THAT’S MY BROTHER, EVERYONE! THE ONE BEATING THE HELL OUT OF MALO!”

  His voice cracked halfway through, but he didn’t care.

  Elaine tried to look embarrassed, but a proud smile betrayed her.

  “There you go! Keep that up!”

  The shout came from a secluded section high above the main stands, an area cordoned off for select guests.

  A man leaned forward in his cushioned seat, gripping the railing as if he was trying to will Beric’s strikes to land harder.

  “Dear,” came the calm voice of a woman beside him, “you really shouldn’t cheer for Beric like that. We’re supposed to remain unbiased toward the fighters.”

  “Oh, really?” He turned to her with a sly smile. “And who’s the same person who almost leapt out of her seat when Beric walked in with those sticks?”

  Her cheeks colored, and she looked away. “That was an understandable reaction. Anyone would be worried to see him try to stand against Malo with nothing more than a pair of sticks.”

  The man exhaled as his eyes returning to the fight. “You’re right. Which only means Beric’s that confident in his skill.” His tone softened. “He’s gotten so much stronger, hasn’t he?”

  The woman’s gaze followed his. “He has.”

  “Then again,” the man went on, “we always knew he had it in him. He’s the one who saved us from that orc, remember?”

  A third figure, a tall man standing near the back of the viewing box, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with curiosity. “It’s true? That’s the boy?”

  Roland nodded. “That’s Beric. Our savior.”

  The standing man froze for a moment, eyes fixed on the blur of motion below. “Then I suppose I’ll have to thank him personally for saving my foolish brother.”

  “Yeah, yeah-” Roland's head turned halfway toward him. “Wait what do you mean by ‘foolish—’”

  His question was swallowed by another explosion of noise from the stands. Below, Beric slipped past another of Malo’s swings and had landed yet another punishing counter.

  Roland chuckled under his breath. “He’s exceeded even my expectations.”

  “He must have spent a great deal of time training under the Sages,” Elara remarked.

  In the corner of the box, a young girl about Beric’s age sat with her chin resting on her hands, her eyes locked on the fight. “I hope he wins,” Selene murmured.

  Roland grinned at her. “I do too.”

  His smile faltered as the rumors returned to him, rumors whispered by both the nobles and the common folk, that Malo still carried a hidden card up his sleeve.

  If they were true, and Malo was truly hiding his full ability, what would happen?

  If that happens, what will you do, Beric?

  Back in the stands, Elder Walden sat in his usual posture of studied indifference. A heavy-bound book rested in his hands, his eyes scanning the pages with the lazy rhythm of someone who seemed to have all the time in the world. Every so often, he would lift his gaze, give the match a brief, almost absent glance, and then sink back into the printed words.

  Down below at the table of Gabno, Jain was somewhat less composed. He remained silent in his seat, one hand propped against the armrest while his index finger tapped a steady, restless beat against his shoulder.

  His suspicion had been correct. Beric was no ordinary child. Jain had known that much even before the opening strike. But watching him now, wielding such an unorthodox weapon with seamless precision, weaving improvised swordsmanship techniques into every exchange, it was something else entirely.

  His eyes drifted toward Elder Liora.

  That Sword Saintess. What exactly did she teach him? And how did she find a child with talent like this?

  Jain shifted slightly in his seat. With Beric’s deft skill, his smaller frame that allowed for fluid evasions, and a mind sharp enough to read Malo’s attacks before they fully formed, the boy was, objectively speaking, the worst kind of opponent for Malo.

  He couldn't stop himself from thinking that Malo could actually lose.

  Still, Jain didn’t move. Even as Malo endured strike after punishing strike, even as the crowd’s cheers swelled like a storm tide, he offered no advice, no warning shouts from the stands.

  The thing was, Jain wasn't mad at this at all.

  If it was Beric, then perhaps……..it was possible.

  And Jain wasn’t about to take that possibility away from Malo.

  On the battlefield, I could feel it. My swings were slowing, and some didn’t have the same lethality as they used to. Malo could feel it too. But I also saw it in his weakened guard.

  My eyes narrowed as he rolled his shoulder, letting one of my weaker strikes slide off him cleanly. In the same motion, he used the momentum to sling a punch at me with his other arm.

  I slipped sideways, my body leaning just enough to avoid the blow, before turning that movement into a counterpunch of my own.

  It cracked against his jaw with a solid sound, but I made a sound of annoyance when I saw that it wasn’t solid enough. Malo’s guard was still up, and besides a noise of annoyance from him as well, my punch didn’t have too much of an effect.

  Then he swept his punching arm low, trying to clip me with a sneaky follow-up. I ducked under it and drove another fist into his solar plexus.

  That one felt good.

  He grimaced as he slightly backed up.

  It wasn’t the result I had expected, so it was clear that the impact wasn’t what it should’ve been. Despite what I felt, what he felt was much different. That meant I was simply getting tired. Pretty soon, I’d run out of the needed stamina to keep landing heavy blows.

  It’s fine. I can keep going. You’ll drop your guard soon. You have to be—

  Something was wrong. My foot wouldn’t move.

  I looked down and found Malo’s boot grinding down on mine, pinning it down and trapping me firmly.

  I looked back up at him.

  He took a deep breath while rearing his head back.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Shit. It’s a point-blank headbutt.

  The crowd gasped as Malo’s head struck the body of Beric with the sound of a thunderbolt. The impact was a cannon blast at point-blank range, that much they could tell, and they felt a shockwave ripping through the ground all the way to the seats. Their vision of the fight became obscured as dust erupted in a choking cloud, hiding the two fighters from everyone.

  Nearby, Adam rose from his post, ready to call the match if it came to that.

  Merrol jolted from her seat, half a second from rushing the field before Lucian’s hand shot out to stop her. Arthur’s cheering died on his lips, replaced by a tight, pained expression. Elaine trembled, her hands clenched together in a small prayer.

  Volk yelped in both terror and fright at such a thunderous blow. Elder Liora breathed sharply.

  Elder Walden turned a page.

  The spectators above merely waited to see what happened.

  “Oh no, he got a clean one in.” Cedric’s voice carried the weight of resignation as the shockwave faded.

  Merilda clicked her tongue. “That’s it. The match is over. No person can take a fully charged headbutt from Malo like that and walk away fine, let alone a kid.”

  Elder Alric sat back with his arms folded. His tone was calm. “Tell me, do you two know why I give my disciples nicknames?”

  Cedric glanced over. “Because when you first meet them, it takes you months to remember their actual names?”

  Merilda nodded to agree with that.

  Alric sighed. “Besides that.”

  Cedric thought about it. “Because they fit. I’m ‘Bull’ for my physique and the way I fight. Merilda’s ‘Viper’ for her agility and, well, venom. Both on the battlefield and in public.”

  Merilda shot him a venomous glare to prove his point.

  Alric nodded to confirm that. “Then, can you guess what I nicknamed Beric?”

  Cedric frowned. “Huh. I never thought about that.” He paused to remember what he found most notable from the fight so far. “From the way he moves and looks, I’d say a wolf. Silver, fast, and cunning.”

  “That’s terrible.” Merilda cut in.

  “Oh? And yours?”

  “A chameleon for his adaptability in combat.”

  Cedric gave her a dubious look.

  “Not bad guesses,” Alric said, “but both are wrong.”

  Cedric leaned forward. “Alright then, what is he?”

  Alric’s lips curved into a small smile. “He’s a little ghost.”

  Merilda raised a brow. “A ghost?”

  “Did you foresee him dying here?” Cedric asked dryly.

  Alric shook his head. “With that silver hair, his elusive movements, and that sharp, hungry mind, he reminded me of a ghost.”

  The dust began to thin, revealing two silhouettes locked in place.

  “But that’s not all,” Alric continued. “What else is a ghost known for?”

  Cedric tilted his head. “Being old?”

  “A magical being,” Merilda suggested.

  Again, Alric shook his head. “A ghost is intangible. You can’t touch it no matter what you try. Even if you try to land a quick blow, be it a sucker punch or a lightning-fast kick, it won’t land. No matter the size, strength, or speed of your blow, it’ll all slip right through the ghost.”

  The last veil of dust drifted away. Malo’s head was pressed against Beric’s raised left arm, an arm that shielded himself from Malo’s fully charged headbutt. Besides from a look of relief at blocking the attack fully, Beric seemed calm. As for Malo, his expression was one of disbelief, shocked that his attack had seemingly no effect.

  “In other words, any physical attack,” Alric said with a grin, “is useless.”

  The arena exploded in noise, growing into an unrestrained, chaotic roar. People leapt from their seats, screaming in disbelief at what they had just witnessed.

  A child, a mere child, had just taken Malo’s headbutt full-on and was still standing.

  "ARE YOU KIDDING ME? EVERYONE, WE ARE WITNESSING SOMETHING CRAZY, AS BERIC BOME HAS JUST TANKED A POINT BLANK RANGE HEADBUTT FROM MALO, YES MALO, STRAIGHT ON WITH NO DAMAGE WHATSOEVER!" Gabno's face became pink from his yelling.

  Merrol clutched Lucian so tightly he could barely breathe, her tears streaming down in unrestrained relief. Lucian himself stared blankly at the scene, his brain still catching up.

  Arthur was already back on his feet, cupping his hands to his mouth as he bellowed, “THAT’S MY BROTHER! THE ONE WHO JUST ATE MALO’S HEADBUTT FOR BREAKFAST!”

  Elaine let out a slow, trembling sigh, as she freed her hands.

  Volk cheered with a fire in his eyes that burned so bright, some would think that he himself was a forge. It was so bright that it made him forget entirely that he might end up losing the wager with Liora.

  From her seat, Elder Liora inclined her head toward Alric and nodded slightly. She repaid the favor, making a subtle acknowledgment to him.

  And Elder Walden? He didn’t even glance up from his book. He wasn’t surprised by it whatsoever.

  “Who do you think trained him?”

  Alric gave a quiet, nostalgic chuckle. “Ah, I still remember the shock I felt when he first tanked one of my punches.”

  Cedric’s head whipped toward him. “You punched him?”

  “How else would I build his endurance?” Alric said matter-of-factly.

  Merilda, despite herself, felt a shiver crawl up her spine for Beric’s sake.

  Holy shit that hurt.

  It felt like a giant cannon ball exploded into my arms, but with the hardness of a damn meteor. I briefly looked down at the cracked ground beneath us.

  Now, while he’s stunned, do him in!

  While Malo was still reeling from the shock of his attack failing, I stepped in and shot another punch toward his solar plexus.

  Of course, the monster managed to react just in time and got his axe up.

  Just kidding. You fell for it again.

  At the last instant, I snapped my fist sideways, burying it in his liver.

  I felt the impact ripple through his body, and I looked up to see the damage.

  His face contorted into a weird look, and he staggered back, almost falling to the ground. The queasy look on his face told me I’d hit the sweet spot.

  “How can he change direction so easily but still hit that hard?” Cedric blurted.

  “His core,” Alric replied.

  “His core?”

  “To take hits, to deliver power from any position, and to strike with his whole body for the strongest hits possible, I put him through hell to strengthen his core fully.”

  This is probably the only time I’ll ever thank Elder Alric for putting me through his training. That demon teacher made me focus on my core from day one. Without it, that headbutt would’ve folded me like wet paper, and most of my punches would’ve just bounced off Malo. It was also helpful how he taught me to direct straight on hits like that all across my body and into the ground.

  I stood still, waiting for Malo’s next move. He was damaged, sure, but it was moments like this where the enemy was the most unpredictable.

  Hey. I hit him good, didn’t I?

  You know, it’s times like this that I remember something.

  Whenever I use Sys—to learn new skills, stash things in my inventory, check my stats—I can’t help but think of it like a game. Like those old fantasy RPGs, with the magic, the skill trees, the leveling systems.

  I played a lot of them in my spare time, grinding them till I beat them on New Game Plus Plus Plus, whatever the highest range was. I was no beginner to the concept of challenging games.

  I enjoyed them, obviously, but there was a different feeling that took a hold on me. It was the feeling of defeating bosses.

  Bosses that were so powerful, undefeatable enemies who could kill me with a lousy slap. It was unfair honestly, with how I had to continually dodge and parry every single attack, all so that I could land a single hit, a hit that did not even clear five percent of the boss' hp.

  But, I still continued. The feeling of clearing the boss with no overpowered abilities or any bullshit abilities, but just my own capabilities of parrying and dodging, along with a rational mind that knew when to attack and when not to.

  It was exhilarating to know that I was the one who beat it.

  Because here’s the reality. Even with stats way lower than Malo’s, I’m still beating the hell out of him. I’ve slipped past nearly all his attacks, parried the rest, and the one hit he landed? I took it and stayed standing. Every exchange, I’ve been pushing him back.

  I’m dominating.

  To you, Malo, I may just be a small minion, an enemy one will squash without any second thought as they focus on the bigger objectives.

  But I'm used to beating bosses that are way above me.

  Sure, Malo, you’re stronger than me, and you probably always will be. But you haven’t mastered using weapons as well as I have.

  And you know what else?

  Honestly, you don’t even hit as hard as Elder Alric.

  I twisted my torso for another punch. Malo tracked the motion, shifting his axe to guard both his liver and solar plexus.

  Perfect.

  I spun, letting the motion whip through my hips, and drove a back kick straight into his jaw.

  The crowd detonated.

  Malo hit the dirt.

  I stood over him and waited for any signs of movement.

  When he gets up, I’ll hit him with another combo, probably something from Silver Gale. He’ll most likely be dizzy and disorientated, so I’ll have to be fast and take advantage.

  I think I heard the crowd chanting my name, but I was focused on Malo’s body. If he twitched, I’d be ready.

  I heard Sys said something, but I didn’t dare look away.

  Adam stepped onto the field.

  Only then did it register.

  Malo still wasn’t moving.

  My stance lowered.

  ……......

  I won.

  Sys flew around me in a circle.

  You did it!!!!!!!!!!

  He was spinning around, all happy and everything.

  I won?

  The crowd roared like a dragon, reminding me of the time I attended a soccer match. (Football, sorry everybody who’s not from the U.S.)

  I looked at the crowd, at all of the spectators who were cheering for……..me?

  "WE HAVE JUST WITNESSED SOMETHING SPECIAL! WE CAME HERE, EXPECTING YET ANOTHER STAMPEDE OF MALO'S UNSTOPPABLE FORCE, BUT NOW HE HAS FALLEN! HE HAS FALLEN TO THE DARK HORSE, A GENIUS WHO HAILS FROM A HUMBLE VILLAGE, A YOUNG BOY WHOSE BESTED MALO WITH SPEED, TECHNIQUE, AND INTELLIGENCE! THIS IS BERIC BOME!"

  Now his face was fully red.

  I looked at the rest of the spectators. I saw my family brighten up like rockets when I glanced at them.

  Wow, the way they instantly got up and started flailing their arms to get my attention. Usually, I would’ve ignored them to avoid getting embarrassed……..but, hey, what the heck?

  I waved at them.

  I silently watched as Arthur got too excited and tried to get closer, nearly toppling over. Elaine somehow caught him, but apparently she pulled too hard, causing the two to fly back into their seats. Arthur yelled at Elaine for “pulling too hard,” while Elaine scowled at him for almost falling in the first place. Mom and Dad just laughed.

  I smiled at it.

  I scanned the arena.

  Elder Alric was giving me a thumbs up. Cedric offered two. I half expected Merilda to flip me off, but instead, she slightly nodded her head but looked angry that she had to even do it.

  I saw Volk frantically wave at me, to which I responded with a casual wave. Next to him, I saw Elder Liora smile. I nodded back.

  And, as always, Elder Walden was buried in a book. I tried to get his attention, but he didn’t even glance up. It must be a really interesting book.

  I raised my sticks to my face. I had a few simple reasons behind using them: they were fast, they had longer reach than his axe, and they targeted weak points perfectly. My quick and unpredictable style matched them perfectly. Plus, my prior knowledge of escrima sticks from back on Earth made them an easy choice.

  I looked over at Malo, still lying on the ground.

  He’s really not getting up………..wow.

  I actually won.