The so-called high-profile warrior of the evening was another Refined Knight but with a ranking in the Challenger Hall. Not the top ten of course.
’He is ranked nineteen,’ Hex watched his opponent circle the battle stage as the announcer revealed his rank and achievents. ’I get the appeal of having a rank, though.’
Hex felt bored watching him prance around but others enjoyed it, apparently. The crowd cheered even louder than they had done for their local champion. Having a rank proved to the crowd that the person before them was capable.
They had not cheered when it had arrived at the stage. In fact, he was t with stares, silence aside from a few murmurs, and almost palpable distaste.
’They didn’t boo at sight. That counts for sothing, I hope.’ Hex thought wryly at his own experience. He didn’t expect to gain a fan following right off the bat but he did expect so people to cheer for him. ’I guess I just have to defeat this one.’
Mark, the rank nineteen challenger, didn’t feel any stronger than Harold had been. If Harold had fought Mark, it would indeed have been a good match. The crowd would have been entertained. Alas, Hex appeared.
"I heard you defeated my intended opponent with a single punch," Mark said when called to the center by the referee. Hex detected a bit of mockery laced in his speech. "I guess you will make a better punching bag than that old guy."
"You look the sa age, though," Hex said, genuinely confused. The graying sideburns, the starting traces of wrinkles around the eyes, everything pointed at Mark being a middle-aged man himself.
"I am not!" Mark snapped. "I am younger. Eleven months."
"That isn’t mu–," Hex countered but was interrupted.
"Shut it. You think you are a big deal because you managed to knock soone out? Or do you think the High Elder will protect you here? Let tell you sothing, I am here to show you that you are nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G."
The guy seed strangely hung up on that last aspect.
’He knows a lot. More than I expected.’ Hex didn’t think soone would investigate him to such detail this early on in the competition but wasn’t surprised by it. The spies hadn’t been idle. Mark wasn’t a nobody either. To get a rank of nineteen showed he had potential.
The referee started the match without much fanfare. Once they stood in the middle of the stage, he began the match.
"Start!"
Mark jumped back and landed on the edge of the platform.
’That’s a bit extre,’ Hex thought, interested in seeing Mark’s move. In his interest to start the competition he had forgotten to take it slow against Harold. ’His Earth elent armor looked fascinating. I could have learned sothing by observing his use of the Earth elent.’
He realized it only when Harold had been brought away under the eyes of a stunned and scared crowd.
"Orbs of Fire!" Mark was the opposite of Harold. Where the other guy had moved in silence and control, Mark made a whole show of moving his hands in an exaggerated manner. Four fireballs appeared in a semicircle behind him as Mark took a battle stance.
’All four give off an extre dense elent feeling and are under his control. It’s almost perfect,’ Hex mused. He could have finished the match by now. His speed and strength exceeded Mark by a complete level.
’His show off is a pretext,’ Hex learned as the balls started to circle around Mark with greater speed. ’He isn’t a fool like he makes others believe.’
"Flaming Fist of Fury!"
Mark seed to be one of those people who shouted their Technique when executing them.
Despite his foolish behavior, the heat of the fireballs scorched the battle stage. The heat reached Hex even before Mark had closed in.
It was hot. Extrely hot. His Frost Dragon Physique helped negate most of the heat usually but he felt the heat of the fireballs sing his skin.
’He is good.’
Mark lunged toward him, crossing the ters between them in an instant. The first fireball covered swirled to the front as Mark punched toward Hex. The fireball’s movent was well-tid. It reached the trajectory of the fist as Mark’s punch stretched to its maximum. All the montum of the movent transferred into the incoming fireball.
Swoosh!
The ball shot out. With just a ter between them, it reached Hex near instantaneously.
Flex Step!
Despite everything happening at blinding speed, Hex reacted in ti. He executed his movent Technique. But, unlike other tis, he stepped sideways.
The heat of the fireball singed his skin and burnt a little of his hair. The sll of grilled bird assaulted his olfactory senses.
Mark was truly a nace. Just as Hex decided to counter and knock the man out like he had done with Harold, he sensed the other two fireballs close in on him. From two sides.
Seeing the pincer, Hex was stunned. For a fraction of a second. Mark had yet to follow up his punch.
How had Mark sent those two balls toward him? He had not sensed any other move or fluctuation.
The burning sll of his brows pulled him out of his stunned state. His vision was filled with the sight of a fireball. With his perfect control, Hex moved.
Flex Step - Second Step
"What–!"
Mark had been grinning as he landed on the side, seeing his attack work so well. It nearly got Hex. But before he could rejoice, he saw Hex fly up in the air.
Flex Step - Third Step
Before he regained his bearing, Hex had executed another step, reaching Mark. Seeing the middle-aged guy still stunned, Hex punched him. Just like he had done with Harold.
Mark smashed into the ground.
Hex didn’t hear the referee declare him the winner. Nor did he notice the crowd break into cheers for him. Two single-hit knockouts made him the favorite.
’The fucking fireballs were connected with a thread of fla. They weren’t just individual balls.’ Hex was lost in thought, realizing the genius behind Mark’s attack. A nice move indeed. Too bad it had been broken.
With this victory, he had bagged his second win. Up next, he had to switch modes.
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