They Hated Me in My First Life, But Now I Have the Love System Chapter 653: Nothing We Can Do to Help

"Tch, don’t overthink it. Probably just helping a weaker fighter. That’s all."

"Yeah right. The way he seems protective of her, tell that was just duty."

Everywhere, whispers turned into theories. So gushed about his strength. Others speculated about his motives.

But one thing was certain, Arthur had just rewritten his known capabilities with a single effortless block.

"Ha!" "George" laughed, looking straight at Arthur as the dust cleared on the stage. "Why am I not surprised? Co to save the damsel in distress? How sweet."

It laughed again, cruel and bright. "She stands a better chance against than you do... at this stage. But since you delivered yourself to , Arthur—" "George" hissed, "—I don’t mind taking revenge for all your ddling."

My ddling? Arthur repeated internally not understanding what "George" was referring to. This can’t be George speaking.

"Arthur, get out of here." Nnenna’s voice interrupted his train of thought, thin, steadying itself as the world tilted. Her vision blurred, but the Love System had already told her the truth, this was Linda disguised as George. The energy had possessed her.

Knowing that changed sothing inside Nnenna. Fear loosened its grip. At least now I know what I’m up against, she thought. She pushed a command through the System: Heal . That thing is going to regret ssing with again.

"Who are you?" Arthur demanded, stepping forward despite the smoke and blood on the stage. He ignored Nnenna’s protest, how could she possibly handle this? He was stronger, faster, more trained. If anyone had a shot at stopping this, it should be him.

"George" shrugged, mocking, clinical. "Who am I?" it returned. "No, the real question is what I will do to you. Torture you slowly? Burn you to ash? Drown you like Somto?" The na landed like an ice cold stone. "Or maybe I’ll be efficient. I still have business with her."

"Thank you for the ideas," Arthur replied coldly, his tone void of emotion. In the sa breath, he moved, stance steady, center aligned. There was no warning, no hesitation.

Boom!

The impact shook the entire stage. A shockwave rippled outward, turning off the barrier lights as dust and debris shot into the air. Visibility vanished instantly, but Arthur’s silhouette cut through the haze, his movents sharp, precise, and lethal.

Each strike carried purpose. His footwork followed a asured rhythm, pivot, sweep, redirect. His hands flowed seamlessly between offense and defense, transitions so fluid they seed choreographed. Every motion echoed the discipline of a master who had trained beyond exhaustion.

"George" barely kept up. His guard broke twice, ribs taking the brunt of an open palm strike before Arthur twisted and delivered a reverse kick to his shoulder. The sound of impact cracked through the dust.

Arthur didn’t relent. His attacks grew faster, heavier, his energy perfectly contained yet devastating in reach. He shifted styles mid flow, Low Sweep Counter, Rising Elbow Form, Half Moon Step, each move blending into the next like water reshaping around stone.

"George" stumbled, blood trailing from "his" lip, realization dawning too late. "He" had underestimated him. What "he" thought was a powerful but not worthy opponent had beco an overwhelming force.

"He" steadied himself, aura flaring, eyes burning with sudden seriousness. The grin "he" wore earlier was gone, replaced with focus. For the first ti since the fight began, "he" raised "his" guard properly.

Arthur didn’t blink. He shifted into another stance, one that spoke of experience far beyond the academy level. His expression remained cold, unreadable, his breathing calm and even.

The dust swirled between them again, hiding two figures whose movents made the air itself tremble.

The real fight had only just begun.

Minutes passed. The fight escalated into sothing beyond comprehension. At first, spectators could still make out flashes of motion, two figures colliding in bursts of dust and force. But soon, even that disappeared. The air warped, the ground trembled, and then... nothing. Just shockwaves and dust.

Most of the audience couldn’t even follow it anymore. Even seasoned martial artists stared helplessly, their eyes darting, trying, and failing, to catch a trace of either fighter.

"Can anyone see them?" soone gasped from the stands.

"I can’t! It’s just, dust and sound, what level are they even fighting at?!" another replied, half in awe, half in fear.

Even so of the five Elders, renowned for their mastery, stood frozen. Elder Onyedika, head of martial arts, clenched his fists as he tried to track the battle aura. Nothing. "Impossible..." he muttered. "Even I can’t see them."

He rushed over once he spotted Carl. "What’s going on, Carl?"

Carl didn’t answer imdiately. His gaze stayed fixed on the stage, expression tight. This was Nnenna’s matter, sothing deeply personal. Not sothing he could just explain to anyone.

Elder Knox approached next, having noticed Carl’s hesitation. "Carl," he pressed firmly, "you have to tell us what you know. This now involves the academy."

Carl remained silent. His jaw flexed, but his eyes didn’t waver.

Elder Knox exhaled sharply, realizing he wouldn’t talk. "Fine," he said at last. "Then tell us how we can help."

Carl’s tone shifted, calm but commanding. "Evacuate the arena and all surrounding areas. Initiate full lockdown protocol."

Elder Knox nodded imdiately. "Understood."

Elder Nathan began to protest. "But we should he—"

Elder Ben placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "No. Look at that stage. If they’re fighting at that level, we’ll only get in the way."

With that, the four Elders turned and rushed out to give the necessary orders.

The tension in the arena swelled. Panic began to ripple through the crowd as the ground rumbled again.

Online, the livestream comnt section exploded...

"What’s happening?! The cara can’t even track them anymore!"

"Did the feed glitch or did they just vanish?!"

"Those shockwaves, holy hell, that’s power."

"That’s definitely Prince Arthur. Of course it is. Who else could keep up with that thing?"

"Wait... Arthur White? The Crown Prince of Prigrian?! What’s he doing here?!"