«Let the battle begin!»
All right, Lyon. Focus. Rember: use your speed! Use your spee—
In the blink of an eye, the hulking brute is right in front of , his body surrounded by a faint aura of blue flas.
What the hell...
He pulls back slightly to charge a punch, but I can only see his movents as fragnted fras, like my eyes and brain aren't fast enough to process such incredible speed.
Before I can even react, I'm slamd to the ground. A sharp pain tears through my stomach, and blood gushes from my mouth in streams.
Damn... He must've punched in the stomach, but I didn't even see it coming! And this guy is second-to-last in the rankings?! What kind of monsters are the ones at the top?!
Levreshka Valakys, Ayra's younger sister, skips around gleefully like a child on Christmas morning, twirling her whip and snapping it in the air. «Finally! My endless losing streak is about to end!» she taunts her sister, turning her back and slapping her own tiny backside. «Kiss my ass, Ayra!»
«Lyon, what are you doing?!» Ayra's voice, both alard and furious, blares in my ear through the small, shiny red earpiece. «I told you not to embarrass in front of my sister, and now you're humiliating in front of the entire high nobility of Mildelar! You better hope Levreshka's familiar kills you, because if he doesn't, I'll make you suffer a pain so unbearable it will drive you insane!»
«W-What does it look like I'm doing...? I'm getting massacred, can't you tell?» I answer sarcastically, my voice strained with pain as blood keeps dripping.
«In our world, power isn't just about brute strength,» Ayra told earlier... but this guy's punches clearly disagree with her.
«What's the matter... already done?» Gerard, Levreshka's familiar, remarks with a tone of fake concern so exaggerated it sets my nerves on edge.
This hulking mass of muscle was getting beaten up by everyone just a minute ago, and now he has the nerve to act cocky?
I clench my fists in a desperate attempt to stand, but the pain keeps glued to the ground.
«And now, the finishing blow!» Gerard pushes off with his legs, leaping into the air with a force that would make the world's pole-vaulting champion jealous. Seriously, he's over ten ters up... how the hell did he do that? And those blue flas swirling around him... Could this be the famous magic extracted from humans during the binding ritual? Levreshka must be a much better trainer than Ayra, no doubt about it.
Gerard's massive silhouette obscures the arena lights, casting a threatening shadow over . He's about to dive-bomb, his fist raised high, ready to strike like a teor crashing into a fragile straw hut—and yes, I'm the fragile hut.
«Lyon, co on! Are you going to fight back or not?!» Ayra's piercing voice blasts in my ear once more.
God, I can't stand her anymore. Maybe Gerard's punch will finally finish off and send to the afterlife—for real this ti. This whole ss of vampires and human fights has already exhausted . Is it too much to ask for a peaceful death? All because I agreed to sothing I didn't even understand, proposed by a woman I'd never t, while I was on the brink of death. If I ever get reincarnated, I'll make sure to keep my damn mouth shut when I'm dying.
I close my eyes in resignation, preparing for what will likely be the most painful blow my sixteen-year-old body has ever experienced.
«Lyon! Do you want to touch my damn boobs or not?! Then get off your ass and take down Levreshka's familiar!» Ayra shouts, her voice more desperate than angry this ti.
Her... boobs? Her beautiful, round, gigantic boobs? So big my hands couldn't even grasp them completely. So... that would be the special reward she ntioned if I won? To touch her amazing, firm breasts? I... I can't give up on this!
I snap my eyes open. Gerard is plumting straight toward in free fall.
What's this... this strange sensation surging through my body...? It burns inside like a fire spreading from my chest to the tips of my fingers and toes! I can't... contain it... I'm about to explode!
—BOOM! A sudden wave of violet energy erupts from my body, radiating in all directions. It slams into Gerard, now just inches away, and flings him violently to the far edge of the arena. He crashes into a semi-transparent red barrier that becos visible only upon impact, dividing the combat zone from the stands.
A stunned silence blankets the spectators. Everyone holds their breath, looking utterly incredulous. If they're this shocked, and they're used to this kind of thing, what am I supposed to think?
I stand up effortlessly, the pain from Gerard's punch completely gone—as if he'd never hit . And my body... it's wrapped from head to toe in flas like the ones that surrounded Gerard, but mine are violet. Strange... why were his blue and mine violet? I suppose Ayra might explain it, though I wouldn't bet on it.
«T-The winner... Lyon Valakys, familiar of Princess Ayra!»
After what feels like an eternity of silence, the announcer's stuttering, uncertain voice echoes through the arena, officially declaring my victory. Gerard lies unconscious on the ground.
What the...what the fuck just happened?
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