I pushed the ornate box back toward Marcus, watching his hopeful expression falter.
"I can't accept this," I said firmly.
"Mr. Knight, please reconsider—" he began, his voice tinged with desperation.
"You misunderstand," I interrupted. "I don't need paynt to help you."
Marcus blinked, confusion replacing disappointnt. "I don't follow."
"I'll fight for your school against the Donovans," I clarified. "Free of charge."
His mouth fell open slightly. "But... why would you do that?"
I thought of Declan Donovan's smug face, of Nora's cruel smirk, of Lucas Rhodes's arrogance. "Let's just say your rivals and I have unfinished business. Besides," I added with a slight smile, "you asked politely. That's rare enough these days to warrant so consideration."
"There's sothing you should know," Marcus said hesitantly. "Declan has been boasting that he's hired an inner strength expert for the competition—soone quite formidable."
I couldn't help but chuckle. "If he's anything like Lucas Rhodes, I'm not concerned."
Relief washed over Marcus's features. "Then you'll do it? You'll represent the Valerius School?"
"I'll be there," I promised. "When and where?"
"Tomorrow at noon. Havenwood City Gymnasium," he replied eagerly. "I can't thank you enough, Mr. Knight."
As Marcus departed, practically bouncing with newfound confidence, Alaric gave a curious look.
"You're just full of surprises tonight, aren't you?"
I shrugged. "Consider it a warm-up before our training begins."
---
The following day, I found myself approaching the Havenwood City Gymnasium with Eamon Greene and Alaric flanking . We were running late—a minor ergency at Eamon's shop had delayed us.
"Are you sure about this, Liam?" Eamon asked, keeping his voice low. "Getting involved in these martial arts school rivalries can be ssy business."
"I'm not exactly known for staying out of trouble," I replied dryly.
As we neared the entrance, I could already hear raised voices echoing from within—one particularly smug and condescending. Declan Donovan was clearly enjoying himself.
We slipped inside quietly. The gymnasium was arranged with a central fighting platform surrounded by rows of seats, most already filled with spectators. Marcus Valerius stood alone on one side of the platform, looking increasingly uncomfortable as Declan Donovan and his entourage taunted him from the opposite end.
"Is this so kind of joke, Valerius?" Declan called out, his voice carrying across the entire space. "Where's this champion of yours? Or was that just another empty boast?"
Marcus maintained his composure, though I could see the strain in his shoulders. "He'll be here."
A younger man—undoubtedly Lucas Rhodes—stepped forward with a sneer. He'd recovered from our encounter, though the way he kept rolling his shoulders suggested lingering discomfort. "Maybe he got cold feet when he heard I'd be his opponent."
"More likely he doesn't exist," chid in Nora Donovan, looking particularly pleased with herself. Her eyes scanned the crowd. "I think poor Marcus is about to suffer another humiliating defeat."
The crowd murmured, so sympathetic toward Marcus, others clearly enjoying the spectacle. The Valerius students shifted awkwardly, their faith in their master visibly wavering.
"Marcus," Declan called out with mock sympathy, "why prolong this? Your mystery fighter hasn't shown up. Just concede now and save yourself the embarrassnt."
"Twenty more minutes," Marcus insisted, checking the entrance again. When he didn't see , his expression fell slightly.
Lucas stepped onto the platform, spreading his arms wide. "Why wait? I'm ready now. Or perhaps," he smirked, "you'd like to fight yourself, old man? Show everyone what the mighty Valerius technique is worth."
Marcus hesitated. I could see the calculation in his eyes—weighing the humiliation of fighting and likely losing versus the sha of backing down entirely. He squared his shoulders and moved toward the platform.
That was my cue.
"Mr. Valerius," I called out clearly, my voice cutting through the tension, "I'm sorry for being late."
Every head in the gymnasium turned toward . Declan's smug expression froze. Lucas's eyes widened in recognition and then narrowed with barely contained fury. But it was Nora whose reaction was most satisfying—her face drained of color as she grabbed her father's sleeve.
"That's him," she hissed, audible in the sudden silence. "That's the man who humiliated Lucas!"
I strode forward confidently, Eamon and Alaric following a step behind. Marcus's relief was palpable as I approached.
"I hope I haven't caused too much trouble with my tardiness," I said, loud enough for all to hear.
"You!" Declan sputtered, finding his voice. "What are you doing here?"
I turned to face him with a pleasant smile. "I'm the fighter Mr. Valerius ntioned. Is there a problem?"
Lucas had backed away from the edge of the platform, his previous bravado evaporating. "Father, this is a setup," he growled. "They deliberately brought in an outsider to—"
"Isn't that exactly what you did?" I interrupted, nodding toward Lucas. "Or is Mr. Rhodes here a long-standing mber of the Donovan family that I wasn't aware of?"
Declan's face flushed. "That's different. We hired Lucas as an instructor months ago."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "Strange that he was introducing himself as a 'guest' at your dinner party just yesterday."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Declan's lie was transparent, and everyone knew it.
"It doesn't matter," Declan recovered quickly. "The rules allow for each school to field their chosen representative. If Marcus wants to embarrass himself by sending a nobody against Lucas Rhodes, that's his decision."
I removed my outer robe, handing it to Alaric. "Shall we begin then? I have other appointnts today." This сhаptеr is frоm thе соllесtiоn аt
"Wait," Nora stepped forward, her eyes calculating. "How do we know this isn't just so random person Marcus found? There need to be stakes worthy of this competition."
"What do you propose?" Marcus asked warily.
Declan's smile returned, predatory and confident. "If your man loses, the Valerius School will publicly acknowledge the superiority of the Donovan thod and recomnd all your students transfer to our school."
Gasps rose from the Valerius students. Such a concession would effectively end their school's existence.
"And if your man loses?" I asked before Marcus could respond.
"He won't," Declan said dismissively.
"But if he does," I pressed, "the Donovan School will issue a public apology for today's insults and admit that the Valerius technique is superior."
Declan scoffed. "Fine. It's not going to happen anyway."
Marcus looked at uncertainly. "Mr. Knight, are you sure about this? The future of my school—"
"Is perfectly safe," I assured him, rolling my shoulders to loosen them. "Shall we begin?"
Lucas climbed back onto the platform, affecting confidence for the crowd though his eyes betrayed his nervousness. "I'll enjoy making you kneel properly this ti," he said, just loudly enough for to hear.
I stepped onto the platform, settling into a relaxed stance. "One chance, Lucas. Step down now, and you can keep what little dignity you have left."
His response was a snarl as he dropped into a fighting posture. The referee, a nervous-looking man who kept glancing between Declan and Marcus, stepped forward.
"The match will continue until one competitor yields or is rendered unable to continue," he announced. "Are both fighters ready?"
I nodded calmly while Lucas gave a tense "Yes."
"Begin!" the referee called, quickly jumping back from the platform.
Lucas circled cautiously, his earlier brashness tempered by the mory of our last encounter. The crowd had fallen completely silent, the tension palpable.
"What are you waiting for?" Nora called from the sidelines. "He's just standing there! Attack!"
Lucas's jaw tightened at her command. He lunged forward with a series of rapid strikes, each one aid at vital points—a killing technique disguised as a competition move.
I didn't move, letting his fist co within a hair's breadth of my face before tilting my head slightly. The crowd gasped at the near miss.
"Is that the best the famous Lucas Rhodes can offer?" I asked, my voice carrying through the gymnasium. "I expected more after all that boasting."
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