Each team had climbed up to their respective platforms, standing ready and alert as they awaited their next command. At the center of it all stood Sergeant Lloyd, positioned high above on his own designated platform—one specifically crafted to give him a clear view of all the matches that were about to unfold. His hands were clasped behind his back, eyes sweeping over the arena with cold precision.
The format was the sa as the previous class sessions. Battles would begin from the earliest-numbered platforms and proceed sequentially to the final one.
Kairos had drawn the twelfth platform. Lucky. Not too far from the start, and not too close to the end. Just the right timing to fuel anticipation.
He now stood on his designated side of the platform, a few feet across from his opponent—Rivet. The sa boy who had humiliated him in their last fight. But today... today was different.
Rivet wore a smug expression, his shoulders squared with confidence—more than the last ti.
In his mind, he was probably thinking Kairos had grown cocky because of the martial arts training Sergeant Lloyd had recently drilled into them.
A martial arts style Rivet believed he was already well-prepared to counter.
But Kairos had other plans.
'I won't make this a predictable fight for you, idiot. I'll show this arrogant brat how fights are done on the streets.'
As the earlier matches raged on, each platform beca a warzone of fists and strategy. The tension was thick in the air. Every sound—each grunt, each shout, the slam of a body hitting the floor—echoed throughout the chamber.
And then... silence.
Platform Twelve.
It was ti.
A chill passed through the room as the crowd's collective attention shifted to their platform. The intensity in the air was palpable. This wasn't just another student duel—this was a rematch that had everyone's attention.
Many hadn't expected it.
At least, not so soon.
So believed Kairos would suffer the sa crushing defeat he had before—perhaps even worse.
But others... others were curious. Intrigued. What did he have to show this ti?
There was only one way to find out.
Rivet took the first step forward, hands casually slipping into his pockets. He moved with a confident swagger, his tone carrying the arrogance of soone who believed he had already won.
"Let's make this quick," he scoffed. "And to be more fair, I decided to fight you using only my feet as a—"
Before Rivet could finish, Kairos lunged.
Fast.
Too fast.
A quick, sudden movent that shattered Rivet's train of thought.
The punch ca flying at his face like a bullet.
Rivet tried to jerk back, instincts kicking in—but it wasn't enough.
The blow connected.
Rivet staggered, grabbing his face with both hands as the crowd gasped.
"Shit! What the hell was that!" he barked, his voice thick with anger and disbelief.
Kairos grinned, the fire in his eyes dancing.
"Co on. Don't tell you're gonna chicken out."
That expression. That cocky look on Kairos' face—it enraged Rivet more than the punch.
He grit his teeth. This couldn't happen. Not in front of everyone.
'He just got lucky. That's all it was. A lucky hit. Nothing more.'
But before Rivet could complete his thoughts—
Kairos struck again.
Another lightning-fast dash forward, another punch flying toward his face.
This ti, Rivet was more prepared. His hands shot up, blocking the blow just in ti.
Kairos smirked.
"Didn't you say you weren't going to use your hands? To make this fair?"
"Tsk! You brat!"
Rivet's composure cracked. He had clearly underestimated Kairos.
He separated his hands from the block and retaliated, swinging his leg at a blistering speed.
Kairos ducked under it—but only barely. That was close. Too close. Rivet wasn't pulling punches anymore.
No... now he was serious.
With a growl, Rivet raised his elbow and drove it downward toward Kairos' skull—fast and heavy. A strike that could knock soone out cold.
But Kairos didn't wait to see if it would.
He leaned forward sharply, wrapping an arm around Rivet's shoulder and pushing with his body weight, catching him off-guard and shoving him a few feet backward.
Their bodies disconnected with a snap of tension.
Rivet staggered but regained balance quickly.
Still... sothing had changed.
'I can't predict him... He's not fighting like before. This bastard... he's a wild card.'
Kairos stood in place, watching Rivet with a predator's grin.
"Last ti, you were too fast. But now... now I'll show you how soone from the gutters can beat the shit out of priceless idiots like you."
The platform felt smaller now. The space between them suffocating.
Rivet's eyes darted—left, right—trying to guess Kairos' next move. Hands? Legs? He needed to predict it perfectly if he wanted to end this.
Then... it ca.
But not as he expected.
Kairos shifted into a bizarre stance. His legs widened, one sliding forward. His upper body turned with an unnatural twist.
Then—
"Instinct Swap!"
Kairos scread the words as he lunged again, faster than Rivet's eyes could track.
A flurry of punches—blows raining down like a storm.
Rivet blocked the first few, hands up to guard his gut—but the barrage was relentless.
Fists slipped past his defenses, landing hard on his ribs, his arms, his face.
"Aahhhh!"
Rivet scread as the final punch sent him toppling backward, over the edge of the platform, crashing to the ground below.
It was over.
Silence followed.
Then realization.
Rivet sat on his knees, dazed, eyes wide with horror.
Kairos had been pushing him—pressuring him little by little to the edge. He knew he couldn't outmatch Rivet's experience in a straight-up fight.
So he made himself unpredictable. Wild. Chaotic.
And in Rivet's confusion, he used the most predictable move—only after ensuring it would work. The Instinct Swap.
The realization dawned on the spectators as well.
And their hearts raced.
Claps broke the silence. First a few. Then many.
Kairos, still standing atop the platform, inhaled deeply. The rush, the thrill—it was exhilarating.
He looked down at Rivet and smirked.
"You think too much in battle. That's gonna get you killed," he said, echoing the words of Sergeant Fex, his voice calm and mocking.
Then he laughed.
"Hahahahaha! Thanks for the rematch."
On the high platform, Sergeant Lloyd's hand rested over his mouth, fingers touching the tip of his nose—not out of contemplation, but to hide the smile tugging at his lips.
So far, this had been the best match of the day.
'A battle of wits,' he thought.
Lina Veyna, one of the first to finish her matches, had been watching intently.
Her brows were raised, arms crossed, lips parting in surprise.
From the first ti she had seen Kairos and heard whispers of his background from an instructor, she had labeled him as trash. Unworthy.
His first loss to Rivet had only solidified her opinion.
But now—after watching this?
She smiled.
"So... you're not really weak. I'd like to fight you myself, Kairos Veyl."
Reviews
All reviews (0)