When the Berserker instructor called Mike's na, he stepped forward from the back of the line, cooperating with the gear check and making final preparations for the combat.
In the surveillance room on the second floor, the Dean, along with several other instructors, stood beside Blaze, observing the afternoon's combat tests.
"Blaze, my student Jas has long admired you..."
"Quiet!" Blaze Morrow interrupted impatiently. He hadn't even heard of Jas. Even if he had, an A-level talent was nothing extraordinary. Over the years, Blaze had encountered at least 10,000 A-level talents.
A-level talent, so what?
Blaze Morrow had set aside other important matters and taken ti out of his busy schedule to co here primarily for Jessica, and partly for this young man—Mike.
Pointing at Mike on the screen, Blaze comnted, "That kid looks as handso as I did when I was young. I find him quite appealing."
"He's Mike, in the sa class as Jessica, but... just a D-level talent," the Dean said, pulling up Mike's information to show Blaze.
Blaze didn't even glance at it, standing up to head downstairs. "I want to see this kid fight in person. Handso folks tend to attract each other."
Turning back to the Dean, Blaze instructed, "I prefer to watch alone. No referees, no priests should be present."
"But this combat..."
"The outco of the fight will be judged by . Is that a problem?" Blaze looked up slightly, his tone dismissive, "Or do you suspect I would cheat for this kid?"
"Of course not!" The Dean quickly apologized, "We'll do as Blaze Battle Chief says."
After all, Blaze was a genuine peak Battle Chief. Although his thods were sotis domineering, he had a reputation for fairness and integrity. Even when his own family mbers broke the law, Blaze never showed favoritism.
"Also, if Jessica participates in the combat, let know. I want to watch that too."
Without another word, Blaze headed to the combat room prepared for Mike.
...
"Stay calm, stay calm. He's just a D-level talent and a mage. I have a great chance of winning!" The curly-haired boy took deep breaths to steady his nerves.
"Gear check complete!"
"Status check complete!"
"Identity verified, you may enter!"
The doors on both sides of the combat room opened, and the curly-haired boy and Mike entered from opposite sides.
"Hey, where's the instructor?" The room was empty, no referee, no priest in sight.
Thud—
The door shut automatically.
An aged voice ca from the speakers overhead, "You may begin. I will act as both referee and priest for this match. Fight freely, without any reservations."
Although the procedure was unusual, the curly-haired boy forced himself to focus on his opponent, recognizing him imdiately.
"Are you that Brute?"
"Rumors, all rumors," Mike waved dismissively, "I'm quite gentle, I even repent after stepping on an ant."
The curly-haired boy's expression shifted slightly. Gentle? He must be joking.
Internally, the curly-haired boy cursed, "I was too focused on class and talent when picking my opponent. Why does the na Mike sound so familiar? It's this guy..."
Feeling intimidated before the fight was not a good sign.
He quickly adjusted his mindset, "Don't panic. He's just physically stronger. Since entering the Tower of Truth, I've reached level 9, and my Strength attribute is as high as 45. He has lower talent, a lower level, and his class is countered by mine! In a fight between a Warrior and a Mage, I have the advantage."
Unaware of his opponent's thoughts, Mike felt standing around was a waste of ti. "Shall we start?"
"Yes!" The curly-haired boy nodded, bracing himself.
"He's a mage; he'll want to keep his distance. Once the fight starts, I need to close in fast. Once I'm close, I've won."
He quickly formulated his strategy.
Action!
Both moved simultaneously.
The curly-haired boy had just taken a step forward when Mike also sprinted forward.
Wait! What is he doing?!
The curly-haired boy's pupils dilated, unable to comprehend what was happening.
A Mage charging at a Warrior?
Before he could react further, Mike was upon him.
So fast!
Mike grabbed his arm and swept his right leg downward, flipping him over his shoulder.
The curly-haired boy hadn't even processed what happened before the world spun around him. He lost his balance and crashed heavily to the ground.
Thud—
His face hit the floor first.
Buzz—
The impact was severe, stars danced before his eyes, his head felt like mush, likely concussed.
Beep—beep—
A shrill alarm sounded as the curly-haired boy struggled to his feet, his vision blurry.
He looked down at his gear, flashing red lights, his face draining of color.
"I... I lost?!"
"I'm a Warrior, how could I lose to a mage in close combat? What just happened?!"
Everything had happened too fast.
Mike's charge, his move, the throw, the follow-up damage breaking the gear... all in less than 5 seconds.
He had given his opponent no ti to react!
A flash of fire from above healed the curly-haired boy's injuries.
He regained clarity, but his face remained defeated, unable to accept his loss.
With such an advantage... why did he lose?
The aged voice spoke again.
"Mike, wins!"
A door opened, and the curly-haired boy walked out dejectedly, while Mike waited for his next opponent.
During the wait, Mike glanced at the speaker.
"Blaze Morrow? What's he doing here?"
"That sly old man, pinching his nose while he talks as if I can't recognize his voice?"
Mike pondered for a mont. Since Blaze Morrow was watching, he decided to primarily use wind elent spells in his next fight.
"I need to solidify my image as a wind elent mage."
Mike reminded himself, in the next fight, to avoid close combat initially.
His base attributes were too high; a single punch could shatter the gear. These students, not even level 10, stood no chance against him.
...
Mike quickly resolved this fight.
Elsewhere, fierce combats continued in other rooms.
...
Next to Mike's room.
"Windstride Slash!"
Cain appeared swiftly behind his opponent, his long sword cleaving unexpectedly.
Taking advantage of the Windstride Slash, Cain launched a series of attacks, dominating the fight.
Finally, he used a Windstride Slash followed by a heavy slash, successfully breaking his opponent's gear and securing victory.
"Cain, wins!"
"Yay!"
Cheers of joy echoed in the room.
...
In another room.
A girl looked distressed, muttering to herself.
"It's over, it's over!"
"My luck is so bad, my opponent is Jas, I'm dood!"
Her opponent was the renowned Jas, an A-level talent, the strongest of this batch, and a hopeful for Florida's Rising Star.
Facing Jas, she stood no chance.
She was so panicked she didn't even hear the referee announce the start of the fight.
"I give up!"
"What?"
She never expected Jas to concede!
The referee looked at Jas seriously, "Jas, you've already conceded once. If you concede again, you'll only have one chance left."
"I know," Jas insisted, "I concede."
Behind the glass, the Dean and others looked on, puzzled, "What is Jas thinking?"
"With his strength, there's no need to concede!"
As everyone was confused, Jas spoke again, "According to the rules, after losing two matches, I can choose my next opponent."
The referee nodded, "That's correct."
Hearing this, several instructors' expressions changed, guessing what Jas was planning.
The crowd murmured, "Such arrogance! Too presumptuous!"
"Arrogant? He has the right to be. Isn't that what being young is about?"
...
Inside the combat room, Jas, having conceded, seed more like the victor, looking slightly upward, "I don't need three chances to fail. From now on, I won't lose a single match until I win them all."
Even the referee, who had seen many talents, had never encountered soone as proud and arrogant as Jas.
"Choose your next opponent."
Jas nad the one he had prepared:
"Mike!"
Starting with Mike, Jas intended to show the entire Magic High School what true genius looked like.
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