The moment Vergil’s boots landed firmly on the dusty arena floor, he felt the heavy weight of countless eyes settle upon his frame.
The surviving trainees in the stands.
The perimeter guards are holding their spears.
The uniform servants.
Madam Sierra.
Young Master Almus.
Everyone present in the cavern was actively watching his bracket.
An armoured guard roughly threw a standard steel sword toward his position.
Vergil reached out and caught the hilt cleanly mid-air.
Then, he slowly and deliberately walked toward the exact centre of the arena floor.
Unlike some of the overconfident trainees who had stepped down before him, he didn’t spin the weapon playfully.
Didn’t shift his stance to test its balance.
Didn’t show a single trace of cheap confidence to the crowd.
He simply stood there in the dirt.
Waiting.
On the exact opposite side of the arena, the heavy iron gate slowly and loudly rose into the bedrock.
The grinding mechanical sound echoed powerfully throughout the entire expanse of the cavern.
A heavy, anticipatory silence gradually spread through the captive stands.
Then came the footsteps from the dark tunnel.
Heavy.
Steady.
Remarkably confident.
A mature man slowly emerged into the soft blue crystal illumination.
Vergil’s eyes narrowed immediately, assessing the target’s physical metrics.
The man appeared to be around thirty years old.
Exceptionally broad shoulders.
A heavily scarred, weathered face.
Short, practical black hair.
But what caught Vergil’s tactical attention most was the weapon held loosely in his right hand.
A proper, well-maintained steel sword.
Not a crude woodcutter’s axe.
Not a heavy iron club.
Not a basic militia spear.
A genuine weapon explicitly crafted for refined swordsmanship.
The man’s sharp eyes immediately locked directly onto Vergil’s grey robes.
Then, his lips parted into a wide smile.
It wasn’t a friendly expression.
It wasn’t a calm, indifferent mask.
It was the unmistakable, predatory smile of an apex predator spotting easy prey.
The two martial artists stood exactly several meters apart on the blood-stained sand.
Raul continued smiling, his posture loose and relaxed.
Anxious murmurs rapidly spread throughout the captive rows in the stands.
Vergil listened quietly to the echoes, filtering out the panic.
Soon, through the fragmented whispers above, he successfully learned the man’s identity.
Raul.
Exactly five years ago, Raul had systematically and brutally slaughtered an entire minor noble family on the surface.
The tragic reason behind the massacre was incredibly simple.
His beloved younger sister had been forcefully used by the arrogant noble heir and then discarded like worthless garbage afterwards.
Her cold, broken body had later been found abandoned in a muddy ditch outside the estate.
Raul had responded to the injustice by single-handedly infiltrating the manor and exterminating the entire bloodline.
Not sparing a single family member or guard.
High on the viewing platform above, Almus Hunter watched the stand-off calmly.
Then, his cold voice quietly spoke.
“Raul must absolutely die on this sand today.”
Beside his shoulder, Sierra nodded her head slightly in agreement.
Then, she stepped forward and raised her voice to signal the box.
“Begin.”
The heavy brass bell rang out across the cavern air.
Raul moved first, his execution instantaneous.
His steel sword flashed through the air toward Vergil’s torso at a blinding speed.
Clang!
Vergil raised his blade and blocked the initial trajectory perfectly.
A massive wave of physical force travelled violently down the steel and through his arms.
Raul immediately and seamlessly followed through with a second strike from a different angle.
Then a third rapid slash.
Then a heavy fourth thrust.
Vergil steadily retreated across the sand while strictly defending his vital organs.
The quiet arena instantly filled with the sharp, continuous sound of steel colliding violently.
Above the fray, Almus continued watching the exchange with an analytical gaze.
Meanwhile, Sierra leaned slightly closer to his ear to whisper.
“Do not worry about the outcome, Young Master.”
“I secretly poisoned Raul’s midday water ration before the brackets were drawn.”
Almus glanced sideways at her, a brow raising.
Sierra continued speaking calmly, her face a mask of professional indifference.
“After exactly one hour of continuous physical exertion, the toxin will take hold, and his strength will begin rapidly declining.”
“Then, N-25 will easily find an opening to kill him.”
Almus raised an eyebrow, questioning the tactical risk.
“And what happens if N-25 dies on his blade before that hour mark is reached?”
Sierra’s expression remained perfectly calm and confident.
“I thoroughly know N-25’s defensive capabilities.”
“He will absolutely survive the onslaught.”
“At least for a single hour.”
That definitive answer finally drew Almus’s genuine interest toward the match.
Among all the thirty-six contestants on the ledger, only Vergil’s opponent had been selected completely personally by Sierra.
“Why did you target him specifically for this stress test?” Almus asked.
Sierra watched the blur of blue sword movements below before she answered.
“N-25 is profoundly talented.”
“In terms of raw comprehension speed, he is actually even more talented than Gregory.”
Almus looked visibly surprised by her evaluation.
Gregory was currently the undisputed strongest trainee in the entire compound.
Yet, Sierra continued her critique, a touch of annoyance in her tone.
“He learns every single martial technique incredibly fast.”
“Far too fast for a commoner.”
“But unfortunately, he actively chooses to waste his precious mental capacity.”
Almus frowned, his green eyes tracking the duel.
“Wastes his time doing what exactly?”
“Other completely useless skills.”
Sierra’s green eyes narrowed into slits.
“Landscape painting.”
“Anatomical research.”
“Private experimentation.”
“Foolish things entirely unrelated to becoming stronger as quickly as possible for our gladiatorial goals.”
Below their platform, cold steel clashed heavily once again.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Vergil continuously and fluidly parried Raul’s aggressive attacks.
His facial expression remained completely calm and unbothered.
But deep inside his mind, his thoughts were moving at an unnaturally rapid rate.
Raul is incredibly dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Unlike the previous feral criminals who relied on raw suicidal momentum, Raul possessed proper, highly disciplined swordsmanship.
Every single strike he made was precise.
Every single footstep and movement was exceptionally efficient.
There were absolutely no wasted actions in his forms.
No reckless, emotional attacks.
No obvious tactical openings to exploit.
The seasoned man fought like someone who had spent decades surviving real, bloody battles on the surface.
Raul’s sword suddenly swept horizontally toward Vergil’s exposed neck.
Vergil swiftly lowered his centre of gravity, ducking his head to narrowly avoid the fatal strike.
The sharp steel blade passed a mere few inches directly above his hair.
Raul’s predatory smile widened significantly at the evasion.
“Good,” he rumbled, his voice low.
He stepped forward aggressively, pressing the spacing.
Their swords collided once more in a shower of sparks.
“You aren’t disappointing my expectations at all, boy.”
Vergil remained perfectly, chillingly silent, absorbing the physical feedback.
Raul attacked again.
And again.
And again.
The sheer martial pressure on the sand continued increasing by the second.
From the high stands, Gregory watched the exchange with narrowed, serious eyes.
Aaron had already fully regained consciousness from his medical treatment and was sitting stiffly beside Basil.
Both of them stared anxiously down at the arena floor, their bodies tense.
Damien clenched his fists tightly in his lap.
None of his friends liked the underlying trajectory of what they were seeing.
Vergil wasn’t losing his footing or taking fatal damage yet.
But neither was he winning a single exchange.
Clang!
Raul’s heavy steel sword descended with absolute, crushing force.
Vergil met the kinetic impact completely head-on, matching the alignment.
The loud, metallic collision echoed powerfully throughout the high walls of the arena.
Both martial artists simultaneously stepped backwards across the sand to reset their footing.
Raul took exactly two measured steps to stabilise.
Vergil was forced to take three steps.
The raw physical difference between the two combatants was entirely obvious to the crowd.
Raul was significantly older.
Physically stronger.
Vastly more experienced in the art of killing.
He had spent years actively surviving real, unchoreographed battles on the bloody surface.
Vergil, meanwhile, had only quietly celebrated his seventeenth birthday a few months ago.
Alone.
Inside the dark isolation of his small room.
Raul fluidly rolled his broad shoulders to loosen the muscles and smiled.
“You’re a remarkably good opponent, kid.”
The high compliment sounded entirely genuine coming from his lips.
Then, his predatory smile widened significantly, his posture tensing.
“But I desperately need to get the hell out of this hole.”
Erratic, bright sparks of electricity suddenly began dancing aggressively along his steel blade.
Raul let out a quiet, regretful sigh.
“So…
I am truly sorry.”
He spun his sparking sword in a lightning-fast, complete circle before his chest.
“Lightning Cut.”
A vibrant, crescent-shaped blade of concentrated crackling lightning shot violently forward from the swing.
The high-speed magical attack crossed the distance of the arena floor in a mere instant.
The anxious spectators in the stands immediately tensed their bodies.
Aaron’s white fingers dug deeply into the edges of his stone bench seat.
Gregory narrowed his serious eyes, analysing the lethal speed.
Even the arrogant Cedric unconsciously leaned his torso forward over the railing.
Vergil calmly watched the incoming lightning projectile rapidly approaching his face.
Then, his arms fluidly moved.
“Wave Cut.”
His sword swung downward once, twice, three times in a seamless blur of execution.
A sharp, blue wave-shaped burst of concentrated sword energy flew forward from his steel.
Then a rapid second wave.
Then a heavy third wave.
The initial blue water wave shattered instantly upon impact with the lightning.
The secondary wave significantly weakened the forward momentum of the crackling attack.
The final, heavy third wave collided directly with the remaining residual electrical force.
Boom!
A massive cloud of thick white mist exploded violently outward across the centre of the arena.
All physical visibility vanished from the floor within a second.
The watching audience completely lost sight of both moving fighters.
Only the loud, echoing sounds of combat remained to fill the cavern.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Rapid, heavy sword strikes echoed continuously through the thick white fog.
The captive boys in the stands finally released deep breaths they didn’t even realise they had been holding in their lungs.
At the very least, Vergil was still actively alive and fighting back inside the smoke screen.
Yet, their internal nervousness and anxiety only increased by the second.
Raul was proving himself to be far more dangerous and lethal than any previous criminal opponent on the ledger.
Gradually, the dense white mist began to dissipate into the cavern air.
The quiet audience finally saw the state of the battlefield once again.
This time, the tactical situation on the sand had entirely changed.
Vergil was the one aggressively attacking.
Again and again, his sword precisely intercepted Raul’s blade mid-swing.
Again and again, his positioning forced Raul to awkwardly alter his intended offensive movements.
The spectators in the rows slowly began to notice something deeply strange about the exchanges.
It looked,
Almost as though Vergil already flawlessly knew exactly where Raul would strike before the actual attack ever left his shoulder.
On the elevated platform, Young Master Almus’s green eyes widened in sudden realisation.
“He has completely learned Raul’s combat routine in the middle of a brawl.”
Sierra nodded her head slowly, her eyes tracking the movements.
Raul was by no means a legendary sword master.
He was not even classified as an advanced sword expert.
He was merely highly proficient and experienced.
Like most self-taught surface fighters, his high-speed attacks naturally followed deeply ingrained muscle memory patterns.
The exact same principle was true for Vergil’s analysis.
The critical difference was that almost nobody could systematically identify another person’s complete pattern database after a mere ten minutes of active combat.
Yet, Vergil had done exactly that using his mind.
Sierra folded her arms across her chest, a smirk playing on her lips.
“I told you before, Young Master.”
“He learns at an anomalous speed.”
Almus continued to stare down at the arena, his knuckles tightening on the stone railing.
Then, he slowly and deliberately shook his head.
“This isn’t merely fast learning, Sierra.”
His sharp green eyes remained completely fixed on Vergil’s grey robes.
“This is pure, monstrous talent.”
“He possesses the intrinsic potential to eventually become a true, legendary sword master.”
For the absolute first time since the bracket began, Sierra looked away from the battle floor and turned her head toward Almus’s profile.
“What exactly are you going to do with him then?”
Almus didn’t answer her question immediately, his mind calculating variables.
His heavy gaze remained fixed upon Vergil’s fluid form.
Below their platform, Raul was no longer smiling or looking relaxed.
Dense sweat completely covered his scarred face.
His heavy breathing had become visibly laboured and erratic.
Every single blade exchange was becoming exponentially more difficult for him to parry.
The hidden poison Sierra had previously mentioned hadn’t even truly taken effect within his bloodstream yet.
This physical degradation was entirely because Vergil kept fluidly adapting his forms.
Kept learning the spacing.
Kept systematically improving his predictive accuracy.
Raul forcefully drove Vergil backwards with a rapid, desperate sequence of heavy strikes.
Finally managing to create some vital distance between their bodies.
Both focused fighters stood dead and still on the sand.
Breathing heavily from the exertion.
Staring intently into one another’s eyes.
Raul’s grip tightened around his sheathing steel until his knuckles popped.
Then, a wild, guttural shout erupted from his chest.
“Lightning Havoc!”
The dancing electrical sparks around his steel blade exploded outward in a blinding flash.
Raw, violent lightning completely wrapped around his entire physical body like a suit of armour.
Crackling.
Wildly dancing.
Incredibly violent.
Then, Raul moved his feet.
His forward movement speed literally tripled instantly across the sand.
Panicked gasps erupted loudly throughout the captive stands.
In the mere blink of an unseeing eye, his silhouette appeared directly in front of Vergil’s face.
His electric sword descended in a vertical execution arc.
It was too fast.
Far, far too fast for the human eye to track.
Vergil reacted at the absolute last possible millisecond, his visualisation space flaring.
Clang!
His standard steel sword barely managed to intercept the heavy, blinding attack.
The massive physical impact sent violent, electric shockwaves tearing through his entire bone structure.
Even so,
The lightning-coated blade still slipped past his desperate defence.
A thin, clean line opened across Vergil’s left cheek.
Dark red blood slowly trickled downward toward his jawline.
The entire cavern arena instantly fell into a dead, terrified silence.
Because everyone watching from the stone benches understood the exact same terrifying truth.
For the absolute first time since the high-stakes battle began,
Vergil had fundamentally failed to keep up with the enemy’s speed.
His eyes darted frantically across the sand, trying to track Raul’s hyper-accelerated movements.
Violent arcs of lightning flashed blindingly across the stone walls of the arena.
Raul appeared out of nowhere.
Attacked.
Disappeared into static.
Appeared again from a blind spot.
Attacked again with a heavy swing.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Vergil blocked every singular incoming strike at the absolute last possible millisecond.
Yet, the desperate defence wasn’t enough to mitigate the overwhelming speed.
A clean cut appeared across his grey sleeve.
Another sharp slice opened across his left shoulder.
A shallow, stinging wound opened on his right thigh.
Then, a bleeding laceration formed on his forearm.
His grey training clothes slowly became heavily stained with patches of dark blood.
The captive spectators watched the one-sided onslaught in absolute silence.
Everyone in the rows could clearly see what was happening to the boy on the sand.
Vergil could still successfully predict the trajectory of Raul’s attacks.
He flawlessly knew exactly where Raul would appear out of the current.
He knew exactly where the heavy sword would swing through the air.
But knowing the future and physically reacting to it were two completely different things.
Raul was simply too fast for his current musculature.
The volatile lightning wrapping around his body intensified with every single passing second.
His forward movement speed increased.
His raw physical strength increased.
Even his standard sword strikes became noticeably heavier and harder to parry.
The kinetic pressure crushing down upon Vergil mounted relentlessly.
Clang!
Another brutal strike.
Vergil staggered violently backwards, his heels sliding through the dirt.
Crack!
A rapid second strike landed before he could reset his stance.
A shallow, painful wound opened cleanly across his ribs.
Raul instantly vanished into a flash of light.
He appeared directly behind his blind spot.
Vergil pivoted his torso to turn.
Too slow.
A fresh, horizontal cut opened on his lower back.
Bright red blood splashed directly onto the dry arena sand.
In the upper stands, Aaron clenched his fists until his knuckles turned completely white.
Basil’s face became entirely pale, his breath catching.
Gregory remained perfectly silent, but his serious eyes never left the trajectory of the battlefield.
Even Cedric’s standard, arrogant facial expression had completely disappeared from his features.
Everyone watching understood the ultimate trajectory of the match.
Vergil was actively losing his life.
Below in the ring, Vergil forcefully commanded himself to remain perfectly calm.
Yielding to panic would only accelerate his physical defeat on the sand.
He continuously observed.
Calculated the gaps.
Attempted to adapt.
Yet, the massive disparity in their physical speed continued to widen by the millisecond.
Raul appeared again, the air smelling of ozone.
His sparking sword flashed forward in a killing arc.
Vergil knew exactly the precise coordinate where the attack would come from.
His analytical mind reacted instantly to the data.
But his exhausted physical body simply did not match the speed.
The heavy blade cut deeply across his arm before he could fully complete his intended block.
Dark blood dripped steadily from the criminal’s sword edge.
Raul gracefully retreated across the sand once more, flashing away.
Both breathing fighters stood several meters apart, evaluating one another.
Vergil’s shallow breathing had become intensely ragged and heavy.
Crimson blood heavily stained numerous parts of his grey robes.
Directly across from his position, Raul was completely covered in a dense aura of wild lightning.
The electrical sparks no longer merely danced around his blade or limbs.
They completely and violently enveloped his entire physical form.
He looked significantly less like a mortal man and more like a localised bolt of lightning given human shape.
The terrified audience held their breath in collective anticipation.
Raul slowly and deliberately raised his steel sword before his chest.
Then, he pointed its sharp tip directly at Vergil’s face.
The dense lightning surrounding his frame exploded outward violently in a shockwave.
The heavy stone floor beneath his leather boots visibly cracked and splintered under the pressure.
Raul grinned broadly, his eyes glowing with electricity.
“This match ends right now.”
Boom!
The arena floor completely shattered into flying debris beneath his feet.
Raul transformed entirely into a brilliant streak of lightning, launching forward.
His explosive speed exceeded anything he had previously displayed during the entire battle.
The spectating boys could barely see his physical silhouette move across the sand.
Even the powerful Gregory’s eyes widened in genuine shock.
Too fast.
Far, far too fast for an Apprentice.
Vergil’s pupils sharply contracted as the light approached.
For the absolute first time since the high-stakes battle began,
He felt a genuine, undeniable sensation of mortal danger.
Death was rapidly approaching his doorstep.
Yet, despite the pressure, his hyper-disciplined mind remained perfectly, chillingly calm.
A strange, transcendent clarity instantly filled his focused consciousness.
Every physical movement in the cavern.
Every shallow breath taken in the stands.
Every single crackling spark of incoming lightning.
Everything in his vision became crystal clear and slowed to a crawl.
A few mere moments before Raul’s execution, the sword could reach his throat,
Vergil finally moved his blade.
His sword swept outward in a rapid, seamless circular arc.
Hidden internal energy surged wildly and explosively through his newly formed Sword Skill Seed framework.
“Chaos Water Wave.”
A deep, violent blue whirlpool of concentrated sword energy erupted powerfully before his chest.
The spinning, watery currents folded over one another endlessly in the air.
Layer upon layer.
Operating like a raging, unstoppable vortex standing firmly between his body and death itself.
The advanced defensive technique materialised completely just as Raul arrived at the coordinates.
Raul’s glowing eyes suddenly widened in absolute horror mid-stride.
Because for the absolute first time during the entire battle,
He sensed an overwhelming, lethal danger to his own life.
Yet, his explosive forward momentum could no longer be stopped or redirected.
The lightning-cloaked swordsman crashed directly and violently into the spinning wall of crushing water.
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Next Chapter: Wednesday.