Sitting on his stool, Cynrik slowed his breathing and heart rate as he listened to Brance’s analysis of the fight so far.
“On a scale of one to ten, he’s around a 6 for tactics. Every move he has made so far is either reactionary or based on instinct. I’m not sure if it’s the Tier suppression restraining you or lack of actual combat experience on his part, but it doesn’t seem like he is playing with you. To so extent, the guy has restrained himself to around Mid-Tier-2.”
Brance spoke in a hushed whisper to not alert the opponent or spectators to what he was saying.
“Furthermore, neither of you have used any Affinities yet, so we still have a blind spot there.”
“No, you’re wrong; he has been using sothing.” Then, drumming his fingers on the hilt of the Kodachi on his hip, Cynrik explained sothing Brance hadn’t noticed.
“As you know, I am at an inherent disadvantage against a longer sword due to the length of my Kodachi’s; this makes it, so I need to be closer to land attacks. But as the fight progressed, I’ve noticed sothing strange with his Saber. It seems to extend and retract at will. I can’t determine if he’s using sothing like tal Affinity or if it’s a unique skill of his weapon. But there is definitely sothing going on there.”
During the first round, Cynrik had explicitly avoided using [Mana Sight] or [Inspect] as he felt he was becoming too dependent on them. Doing this allowed him to realize the few shortcomings he had developed with his combat style, and as the first round went on, Cynrik was slowly adapting minor adjustnts as he went. Such as how he would string together combinations of attacks or the placent of his feet when landing.
CLACK CLACK CLACK
Cynrik and Brance sped up their conversation as Professor Hues slamd a cane-like staff on the ground signifying only 10 seconds were remaining in the break.
“South-paw (Left-handed attacks) faints seem to be working better than orthodox (Right-handed attacks), so keep those up. It may not seem like it, but he gets a little flustered when you fake attacks from the left. Round one was a draw, so you’ll need to capitalize on his lack of knowledge about your Affinities.” Brance fired off a few more tips based on what he had seen before taking Cynrik’s stool and jumping out of the ring.
“This is the final round, on my mark.” Professor Hues shouted below the enormous boxing ring, putting both combatants on guard. But, unlike before, Cynrik didn’t grip his hilts. Instead, this ti he was going all out. Mixing up his stance, he extended his right leg out while bending his left knee and bringing back his left hip, taking a traditional south-paw stance with his lower body. However, his stance was anything but a conventional fighting pose for his upper body.
Cynrik raised his left elbow above his head with his arm angled down in front of his face. His index and middle fingers and thumb were curled into a claw, leaving his ring and pinky fingers curled up like he was making a fist. Cynrik’s right hand was making the sa gesture, but instead of being raised, his right arm was in a standard boxing guard pose, with his elbow bent and his hand inches in front of his right ear.
Seeing the drastic change in his stance, Dr. Effrin was montarily confused. Usually, a person would stick to a singular fighting style, either hand to hand or using a weapon, yet Cynrik was doing the opposite. Based on how effortlessly he took the stance and the calm deanor Cynrik was exuding, Dr. Effrin couldn’t help but be on guard.
“BEGIN!”
“Teehe Haha”
The instant the cryptic taunt left his lips, Dr. Effrin felt the hair rise on the back of his neck, and the next mont Cynrik vanished from sight.
BANG
A second later, a loud bang erupted from the ring, as Cynrik, under cover of his [Cloak of Shadows], delivered a fierce kick into the head of Dr. Effrin, sending him hurtling across the ring and into the ropes over 10 ters away.
Seeing the man be flung through the air by seemingly nothing, everyone except Brance gasped in shock, leaving the victim scrambling to get back to his feet.
‘What the fuck just happened?’ Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs forming in his brain, Dr. Effrin’s eyes anxiously looked for Cynrik.
‘Fuck, that’s right, his file said he had a Dark Affinity. Not good; if I can’t anticipate his attacks, I’ll be a sitting duck.’ Calming his rapidly pounding heart, Dr. Effrin pulled out his Saber before running his hand over the length of the blade. The action caused a faint luster to shine from the Saber as he honed in his focus for any minute change in the surroundings, which may give away Cynrik’s position.
BANG FWOOSH BAM
However, it was useless; Cynrik appeared beside the man and lashed out with all his might, kicking Dr. Effrin in the small of his knee before spinning around and striking him in the side of his head with his elbow. The one-two combo sent the man sprawling and dropped Cynrik’s [Cloak of Shadows].
This was all Dr. Effrin needed, as even though he was still airborne, he stabbed his Saber forward. Cynrik’s eyes narrowed as he witnessed the blade of the Saber extend like it was made of rubber, over eight ters aid directly at his heart.
Thinking fast, Cynrik twisted both his wrists outward, equipping his Assassins tools, and in one motion extended both hidden blades in a cross guard, narrowly blocking the attack at the cost of being forced to take three steps backward.
“Tsk, I knew you were up to sothing with that Saber; that’s fine, this fight is already over, [Shadow Sewing].” Cynrik spat as he stomped his left foot on the ground. The action caused ten shadow tendrils to erupt from the floor and wrap around Dr. Effrin’s arms, legs, and hips, locking him in place.
“What!” Stunned and unable to move an inch, Dr. Effrin struggled in place, trying to break free until he heard Cynrik snap his fingers. His pupils constricted to pinpricks as he watched the young boy manifest ten basketball-sized balls of BlackFire.
This ti it was Professor Hues and Mr. Kein who shouted in unison.
“FUSION OF FIRE AND DARK AFFINITIES.”
“HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? HE’S ONLY 12; HOW CAN HE FORM A MANTRA!”
With a wave of Cynrik’s hand, all ten balls of BlackFire shot towards Dr. Effrin and hovered around the man, poised to attack at any mont.
“Do you yield, Dr. Effrin?”
Cynrik’s words brought the man out of his stupor as he realized his current predicant and gave a self-deprecating chuckle.
“To think I would lose to a child at the Peak of Tier-1, heh, it’s true what they say, the young surpass the old. It is your win, Young Cynrik.” Looking around at the mysterious black flas surrounding his immobilized body, Dr. Effrin felt if Cynrik really wanted to harm him, there was nothing he could do. His best option was to use his tal Affinity to increase his defense as much as possible. But even if he did so, he felt it wouldn’t be enough for so reason.
Cynrik dispursed the accumulated Mana he used to form the fireballs and shadow tendrils with a snap of his fingers, releasing Dr. Effrin from harm and smiling widely at Cinyah.
Brance shook his head as he read the smile, saying, “Homie was Weak AF.” But for Cinyah, a reassuring smile said, “No problem, Mom.”
“Victory goes to Cynrik Jetlensr.”
Cynrik gave a respectful bow to his opponent and the spectators before putting away his hidden blades, hopping over the ring’s ropes, and landing beside his brother.
Still in the ring, Dr. Effrin went through the battle in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong. After his success in round one, he realized he had subconsciously underestimated Cynrik, making him shake his head in disappointnt. There was no one to bla but himself.
Knowing there was still another sparring match to be held, Dr. Effrin promptly jumped out of the ring and tapped Mr. Kein on the shoulder.
“Don’t underestimate the younger brother; he will present you with a significant challenge if he is even half as clever as his older brother.”
Being an instructor at the sa Academy as Dr. Effrin and the man’s junior, Mr. Kein nodded in understanding, taking his senior instructor’s words to heart.
“Alright, Young Brance, you are up; your opponent will be Mr. Kein from Quest Combat Academy. The rules will be the sa as with the previous bout. Any weapons or Affinities are acceptable, and armor is banned.
“Yes, sir, I understand.” Brance politely responded and climbed up onto the ring. Unlike Cynrik, who had to be flashy and the center of attention, Brance preferred to be more low-key and opted not to show off by jumping into the ring as a professional wrestler would.
Mr. Kein simply nodded at Professor Hues and disappeared from his spot, reappearing in the sa corner as his senior instructor previously stood.
Brance stood in place, waiting for his opponent to signal he was ready before bowing politely.
“Let’s have a good match, Mr. Kein; I ask for leniency as I am young and inexperienced.” Smiling brightly, Brance equipt both his CS Tear shields with their bottoms resting on the ground on either side of his body.
Seeing this, Professor Hues chuckled softly.
“It seems both brothers like to use two weapons; interesting though that Young Brance uses two shields, any particular reason for that Young Cynrik?” Then, Professor Hues politely asked, looking at Cynrik, who had put his hoodie back on and had his arms crossed over his chest.
“Erm…to be honest, I’m not really sure why he uses two, he kind of just did it one day. I will say, though, if I am the unsheathed and violent blade, Brance is the stable wall that defends.”
Cynrik’s words made Cinyah giggle, and Professor Hues looked at him confusedly.
“Heh, you two are in a league of your own. I pitty the instructors who attempt to guide you in the future.” Shaking his head while smirking, Professor Hues faced the ring and held his hand up.
“ON MY MARK…BEGIN!”
-This series is exclusively published on WebNovel if you are reading it anywhere else…You Wrong Fam. PS Check out the Discord, sdiscord.gg/dcxKNJEMwg
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