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[Translator - Peptobismal]
[Proofreader - Max]
Chapter 2
Zeke walked down the desolate hallway towards the circular arena where the year-end evaluation was held.
He looked around as he walked.
'It's exactly the sa as my mories. So suffocating.'
Shields bearing the Draker Clan crest were hung throughout the hallway.
A dragon with a chain around its neck and a sword piercing its heart.
It was the Draker Clan crest, called the Dragon Slayer Emblem.
Zeke frowned at the sight of the crest.
'To think I'd see this again alive.'
To Zeke, the Draker Clan was both a trauma and an object of undeniable yearning.
A wall he couldn't overco.
He had thought that if he gained the strongest power on the continent, he could completely erase the shadow of the Drakers.
Perhaps that was why he had struggled so desperately.
He roughly pushed open the door at the end of the hallway and entered.
Thud!
The circular arena was already filled with children of Zeke's age.
They were all wrapping leather straps around their hands for Pankration, one of the year-end evaluation events.
'Hmm...'
The gathered children murmured at Zeke's appearance.
He ignored them and looked around the arena.
It was a strange feeling to be back in the Pankration arena after so long.
"Ha, brings back mories."
As a child, Zeke hated Pankration.
He was small and weak for a direct descendant of the Draker Clan.
The young blood relatives of the Draker Clan, regardless of whether they were from the direct or collateral line, began living together at the age of seven.
And in the communal living area called the "Cradle," strict rules, disciplined life, and harsh training continued for five years.
They received basic training in swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, and physical training before the Blessing Ceremony, and one of the most important training events was Pankration.
Pankration in the Draker Clan was a no-rules competition close to actual combat.
There were many injuries, but it didn't matter because they had the highest-grade healing potions on hand.
This was sothing only the Draker Clan could do in the entire continent.
"Whew..."
Zeke took a deep breath and stretched his muscles.
The other children, unfamiliar with Zeke acting like this, glanced at him.
It was then.
"Oh, what brings you out today instead of running away?"
Zeke turned his head to see a red-haired boy with freckles standing there.
Behind him stood two large boys with broad shoulders, boasting arrogant postures.
'Who is he?'
Then he realized who the boy was.
"Ah, it's you. Leon Conrad."
The red-haired boy's face turned crimson, and he gritted his teeth.
Leon grabbed Zeke's shoulder and said nacingly,
"You recessive gene bastard, are you crazy?"
It was then.
Grab!
Zeke grabbed Leon's wrist tightly.
Crack!
Leon's eyes widened, and he shook off Zeke's hand that was gripping his wrist.
Glaring at Zeke, Leon shouted,
"How dare you! Do you want to die, you recessive gene bastard?!"
Zeke looked at Leon with a calm gaze and thought,
'Should I kill him?'
Zeke had been through all sorts of hardships while wandering the continent before his regression.
Killing a twelve-year-old kid who hadn't even awakened his aura was nothing to him.
As Leon fud in front of Zeke, the other children quietly watched the situation.
It was then.
Ding!
The bell signaling the evaluation rang.
Zeke clicked his tongue as he watched Leon retreat.
He rembered how Leon had constantly bullied him during their ti in the Cradle and the academy.
'Leon Conrad. That damn bastard was also one of my cousins.'
Zeke had four siblings and over ten cousins.
Except for the direct descendants, whom he rarely t, most of his cousins were annoying incarnations of the Drakers.
As Zeke reminisced, the instructor stepped onto the arena.
At his appearance, the children lined up in front of the circular arena.
Their movents were surprisingly swift for twelve-year-olds.
Zeke recalled the instructor's na.
'Pan Mark. He was the instructor in charge of this batch.'
Pan Mark, standing in the arena, shouted,
"This year's evaluation, like last year, will consist of Pankration and sword fighting."
The children tensed and focused at Pan's words.
The evaluation at the Cradle was linked to class assignnts at the academy they would enter next year.
After the Blessing Ceremony, the trainees would awaken their aura and enter the academy as Yellow Knights.
And they would be assigned to classes based on the year-end evaluation they received at the Cradle.
The higher the class, the more opportunities they had to learn higher-level dragon slayer techniques, so the children couldn't help but be obsessed with their scores.
Zeke clicked his tongue, witnessing the fierce competition again after 20 years.
'How did I survive here before?'
Zeke was physically and ntally weak as a child.
The Cradle and the academy were nothing short of hell for him in his childhood.
As Zeke reminisced, Pan Mark called out the first evaluators.
"Aaron! Gota!"
Aaron and Gota stepped onto the arena.
Gota was one of the large boys who had been standing behind Leon.
Both of them were well-built and seed to be in a similar weight class.
Pan blew the whistle.
Beep!
Aaron and Gota lowered their stances and glared at each other.
A mont later, Gota lunged first, trying to grab Aaron's leg.
Aaron quickly changed direction and grabbed Gota's waist.
Aaron lifted Gota's body and threw him over.
Thud!
Gota, slamd onto the arena floor, got up angrily.
"You commoner bastard..."
Aaron, with a relaxed expression, took his stance.
Gota attempted a few more attacks, but they were all blocked by Aaron's defense.
The match ended anticlimactically with Aaron's victory.
'Hmm...'
Zeke watched Aaron and Gota's match with a bored expression.
'Maybe it's because it's a kids' fight. It's so clumsy.'
He used to hate Pankration with a passion.
But now, it looked like child's play.
Seeing Zeke yawning widely, Leon, who was standing opposite him, glared at him with murderous eyes.
After a few more matches, Pan Mark called out the next contestants.
"Zeke! And..."
Pan hesitated for a mont before speaking.
"Leon! Co forward."
Judging from Leon's excited expression, it seed like he had talked to the instructor beforehand.
The Draker Clan outwardly presented themselves as a noble knightly family, but behind the scenes, all sorts of sches and tricks were rampant.
'And they said that only those who could overco sches and tricks were true dragon slayers.'
Leon stepped into the arena and slamd his fists together.
Zeke trudged into the arena listlessly.
Leon looked at Zeke and said,
"Recessive gene bastard, you're dead today."
Zeke looked at Leon and said,
"Hey."
Leon looked at his fist and then looked up at Zeke.
"If you say 'recessive gene' one more ti, I'll really kill you."
Leon flinched at the murderous intent he felt from Zeke.
Realizing that he was montarily intimidated by Zeke, Leon shouted even louder,
"You recessive..."
Whoosh!
At that mont, Zeke's fist cut through the air.
Wham!
Leon felt as if half of his face had disappeared.
He collapsed onto the arena floor.
"Gasp... M-my face."
Leon clutched his face as he fell.
Zeke recalled the ssage that had appeared when he punched Leon in the face.
[Skill Critical Strike activated.]
'So this is how the active skills are activated.'
Beep!
The whistle blew.
Pan Mark shouted at Zeke,
"What are you doing before the match even started?!"
Zeke looked at Pan and said,
"Does anyone say 'start!' ? Before stabbing soone on the battlefield? The one who strikes first wins."
Pan was surprised by Zeke's harsh tone.
'He's always running away, and now suddenly...?'
Leon got up, fuming.
"Instructor! Start again! I'll kill that recessive gene bastard!"
Pan hesitated for a mont, then blew the whistle again.
"Match starts!"
Leon took his stance and charged at Zeke.
'That lucky punch must have landed by chance. This ti, I'll break his arms and legs completely.'
Leon was small, but he had a talent for Pankration.
Even bigger kids couldn't keep up with Leon's fighting sense and often ended up with dislocated shoulders.
Moreover, he was known for his ruthlessness, refusing to stop even when his opponent tapped out, and would break their arms and legs.
So other children were often passive when facing him.
Again, Leon, filled with confidence, lowered his stance and charged at Zeke.
But Zeke, who was standing still, showed no openings, unlike usual.
'What's this?'
And at that mont, Zeke's left hand moved.
Whack!
Zeke's jab, which shouldn't have reached him, struck Leon's face.
"This bastard!"
Every ti Leon charged, Zeke's jab would fly.
Whack!
"Ugh!"
It was a light jab, but his fist was wrapped tightly with leather straps, so every hit tore his skin and made his head ring.
Leon guarded his face and closed in on Zeke, grabbing his waist.
"Gotcha, you bastard!"
All he had to do was take him down and break his joints.
He tried to throw Zeke over his back, but strangely, Zeke didn't budge.
'W-what the...?'
Zeke whispered in Leon's ear,
"I told you. If you say 'recessive' one more ti, I'll kill you."
Leon, goosebumps erupting all over his body, hurriedly tried to back away.
Whoosh!
But Zeke, in close range, kicked Leon's thigh.
"Ugh!"
It was a heavy blow, unexpected from a low kick in such an unstable position.
As Leon's balance faltered, Zeke hooked his leg inward and tripped him.
Thud!
As Leon fell, Zeke slamd his elbow into his ribs.
[Skill Precise Stab activated.]
"Cough!"
With his ribs broken, Leon couldn't breathe.
Zeke mounted Leon, pinning one of his arms with his leg and pressing his knee on the other shoulder.
Zeke, in a mounted position, made a fist and looked down at Leon.
Then he punched Leon in the face.
[Skill Mutilate activated.]
Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham!
Zeke's fists pounded relentlessly on Leon's face.
"Gah, gah! S-stop!"
Despite Leon's pleas, Zeke's fists didn't stop.
Leon, struggling, eventually fainted from Zeke's rciless beating.
Only then did Zeke slowly get up.
"You're nothing but a little punk."
The waiting paradics rushed in and dragged the unconscious Leon out of the arena.
Zeke, who had turned Leon into a bloody ss in an instant, returned to his seat.
The other children exchanged glances, trying to grasp the situation after Zeke's sudden change.
Then Zeke's voice rang out.
"You guys, I can hear your eyeballs rolling."
The children's eyes uniformly focused on Zeke.
Zeke chuckled and continued,
"Now that I've worked up a sweat, my head is finally working. I'm starting to recognize who's who."
The children just stared at Zeke silently, unable to understand what he was saying.
"If you have sothing to say, co and say it. Stop rolling your eyes around."
It was then.
"Instructor."
A boy with a sharp, three-white-eyed gaze raised his hand.
[PR/N: Three white eye refers to more of the white part of the eye showing either above or below the iris.]
"Can I choose Zeke as my opponent for the evaluation?"
Zeke recognized the boy who raised his hand.
'I rember. His na was... that's right. Jakenn Vardec. Another cousin has appeared.'
At Jakenn 's words, Pan turned to Zeke.
"Zeke, what will you do?"
Zeke thought for a mont and then stood up.
"Sure, why not, let's sweat a little more. But,"
He pointed at Jakenn and said,
"It's too boring with just you alone."
Zeke pointed at the boy sitting next to Jakenn.
"Liam Stone."
The boy who had been sitting silently next to Jakenn quietly raised his head.
Zeke looked at him and said,
"Both of you, co at together."
Zeke grinned.
"That seems a bit more balanced."
[Translator - Peptobismal]
[Proofreader - Max]
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