With calculated precision, she shifted her grip on one of her swords, angling the poml toward his arm.
In a fluid, relentless motion, she struck, the blunt force slamming against the joint of his elbow.
The impact sent a sharp jolt through Illix’s arm, his muscles instantly locking in pain.
She twisted the poml sharply, her strength forcing his arm into a position that left him no choice but to release the chain.
It clattered to the ground with a heavy, tallic thud, its nace gone.
Her free hand grabbed his wrist, forcing it down as she leaned in closer, her blade hovering just inches, from his neck.
Illix struggled beneath her, but his strength was fading fast, his breaths shallow and uneven as the fight drained out of him.
The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound echoing through the arena like thunder, their excitent fueled by the sudden turn of events.
For Ilix, it was clear- the battle was no longer his to win.
"Yield," she said, her voice a cool, rciless whisper.
Illix gritted his teeth, blood dripping from the wound in his side, his vision still a blur from the spice.
He struggled beneath her, but it was no use. His chain was out of reach, his strength spent.
"I yield," Illix spat, his voice laced with frustration and defeat.
His words ca out sharp and bitter, the sting of his pride evident as he lay pinned beneath her.
But he had no choice—Trois had bested him, and continuing the fight would only bring further humiliation.
Trois held her position for a mont longer, her sharp gaze fixed on him as if waiting for any sign of treachery.
When none ca, she slowly stood, her movents deliberate and controlled.
She stepped back, lowering her swords with a firm grip, the tallic glint of the blades catching the light one last ti before she sheathed them.
The crowd exploded into cheers, their voices rising in a deafening roar of approval and excitent.
They chanted her na, the sound reverberating through the arena like a tidal wave.
But Trois barely acknowledged the celebration.
Her expression remained calm and composed, her mind still grounded in the aftermath of the fight.
She raised her arm, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the faint smudge of dirt and sweat the only mark of the grueling battle she had endured.
Her long hair swayed gently in the breeze, strands clinging to her face before she brushed them aside with a practiced flick of her head.
The ache in her body reminded her of how hard-fought this victory had been, every bruise and sore muscle a testant to the effort it had taken.
It had been a hard fight—no doubt about it. Illix had pushed her, challenged her, but Trois had risen to the occasion.
A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she turned and walked away from her fallen opponent, the roar of the crowd fading into the background.
The victory was hers, and it was one she had earned through skill, grit, and determination.
Gon watched as she walked away from the ring, his heart pounding in his chest.
The sounds of the crowd seed distant now, muffled by the rush of adrenaline in his ears.
His gaze followed her every step, unable to tear his eyes away.
She moved with an effortless grace, each stride calm and confident, as if the fight had been nothing more than a brief interruption in her day.
He hadn’t expected fighting Trois to be a cakewalk, but he had at least expected her to lose.
He had written her off as soone who wasn’t worth taking too seriously.
Sure, she looked tough, but not the kind of fighter who could give him real trouble.
Now, watching her catwalk away from the ring, with her opponent still crouched on the ground in sha, Gon felt respect for her—an emotion he hadn’t expected to feel.
The fight had unfolded in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
He had watched Trois step into the ring with a composed deanor.
He thought it would be an easy win, maybe not a walk in the park, but sothing within Illix’s reach.
But he was wrong. Completely wrong.
The way she moved, the way she carried herself, was sothing he hadn’t fully appreciated before.
Every motion was deliberate, asured, each strike purposeful, hitting with precision, never wasting a second.
It was a style he hadn’t been prepared for.
No wild swings, no aggressive rushes—just controlled power that sliced through her opponent’s defenses like a knife through butter.
She wasn’t just showy, every move she made felt like it was calculated to strip away her opponent’s confidence bit by bit.
Now, with her back to him, striding across the arena toward the exit, Gon found himself unable to look away.
The defeated fighter remained on the ground, struggling to catch his breath, his face a mix of disbelief and sha.
He hadn’t just lost—he’d been humiliated, outclassed in a way he hadn’t expected.
Gon could see it in the slump of his shoulders, the way he hesitated to rise, as if the weight of the loss pressed down harder than the physical pain.
The announcer cleared his throat again, the sound cutting through the thick noise that hung in the air like a weight.
The crowd’s cheers faded slightly, their focus shifting back to the center of the arena.
Gon, still standing at the edge of the ring, didn’t flinch.
His eyes remained fixed on Trois as she made her way toward the exit, her calm presence now a sharp contrast to the frenzy that had just erupted. The
announcer’s voice ca through the speakers, cutting the silence.
"THAT WAS AMAZING!" He yelled, his voice booming through the speakers with a mix of excitent and disbelief.
His words sliced through the lingering tension in the air, breaking the stillness that had settled after the fight.
The crowd responded with an eruption of cheers, their excitent infectious as they fed off the announcer’s enthusiasm.
"TROIS JUST DELIVERED ONE OF THE MOST FLAWLESS PERFORMANCES WE’VE SEEN IN THIS ARENA!" he continued, his voice growing even more energized. "EVERY MOVE, EVERY COUNTER—SHE MADE IT LOOK EFFORTLESS. WHAT A DISPLAY OF TECHNIQUE AND SKILL, FOLKS!"
The crowd roared again, so still on their feet, applauding the sheer dominance of the fighter who had just walked away.
The announcer paused, letting the cheers fill the space before adding, "THIS IS WHY WE CO HERE. THIS IS WHY WE WATCH. TO WITNESS GREATNESS. TROIS DIDN’T JUST WIN—SHE OWNED THIS FIGHT. A PERFECT EXECUTION, A MASTERCLASS IN CONTROL. LET’S GIVE HER THE RECOGNITION SHE DESERVES, LADIES AND GENTLEN!"
His words echoed off the walls of the arena, amplifying the buzz of admiration that now filled the space.
Reviews
All reviews (0)