Chapter 232: Chapter 209 : Challenged

[Good good good, young people should be filled with liveliness. Now, let's begin preparations at once.]

Juan's words set things in motion. Participating students were recorded and put on a list. Match-ups and orders were decided in real-time via a random drawing involving an assigned marble and a simple wooden contraption. While this process was unfolding, audience members and non-participating students chatted amongst themselves.

“Not going to show off your stuff, Brother Skye?” Ralf asked after taking a sip of his milkshake.

“Hell no. Instead of showing off my stuff, I'd get it beaten out of me. No no, definitely not, hard pass from me," Skye said, shaking his head for emphasis.

Ralf mimicked him though not as violently, before turning to Lane. “How about you Lane, not interested?”

“Not in the slightest,” the former assassin said flatly before his hands moved into an all-too-familiar cringe. “I’d rather play some fighting games.”

“Hmm…”

“What about you, mister Combat Master?” Yuki spoke up. "Why aren't you stepping up?"

“Why?" Ralf's voice sounded with a note of incredulity. He took a sip while his blue sights moved to the platform - more specifically the lined-up Anzi practitioners set to do battle.

Cupping his cheek in his palm, he looked at them with a listless look, as though a sigh was imminent. To avoid the possibility, he shut his eyes before continuing with his previous train of thought.

"Why, you ask...it’s in the title. I’m a Combat Master…Master,” Ralf stressed as he shrugged. “Martial Juniors and Seniors won’t do. I have no interest in them as opponents nor do I care to have bullying accusations thrown my way. Can’t have that. Now...if my opponent was a Martial Master, I might feel some motivation… but Martial Juniors and Seniors, I’ll pass on the -hm?”

Ralf's face flickered as realisation struck him. His surroundings were dead quiet. The volume hadn’t turned off at once - rather, it had become softer and softer with every word spoken until the only sound that echoed out was his voice.

Just like Juan, the crowd too was interested in Ralf’s non-participation and had been listening in closely. Needless to say, everything he said was registered clearly.

Following the awkward silence, the stands exploded into a cacophony of noises. Laughter and chuckles dominated the space, though curses and grumbles also garnered a considerable amount of decibels.

"Cocky bastard!"

"Damn him!"

"What a piece of shit..."

Where the crowd was a mixed bag of reactions, the Anzi practitioners collectively flared up with one emotion: anger. Their heated glares gathered on the Transmigrator's person, as though hoping to burn him alive.

Ralf handled the heat as well as his bloodline would suggest. Shrugging, he returned his attention to his friends, who were now showing off mostly wry smiles, and tapped his temple.

Charlotte took the familiar cue and telepathically connected the group. Lane got his wish. The group, each holding a Psi Controller, disappeared into another world entirely as the world around them devolved into a boisterous frenzy.

[What arrogance!] Rifu voiced as he clenched his large fists.

At the northern stands, a certain group of martial artists were engaged in their own private conversation.

[Combat Master, ha! The brat is barely out of diapers and dares to call himself a master,] the Anzi School Head continued, getting nods from his surrounding Martial Masters, save for one, Yu Ling, who stayed quiet and sipped his tea. [It's ridiculous, the Adventurer Association should have never approved such a grand title.]

Sonia, the Mu Tang School Head nodded. [Indeed, this youngster clearly doesn’t understand the height of the heavens or the depths of the earth. He should be taught a lesson, and soon.]

[Exactly!] Rifu said, shooting up.

The Anzi School Head cut an imposing figure at just over seven feet tall. His bulky body showed none of the usual brittleness someone in their late fifties would possess. Instead, his bulging muscles radiated an indomitable power.

[And since he’s insulted my disciples...I’ll be the one to carry out this lesson.]

Yu Ling and the other Martial Masters' brows raised at the declaration.

[Are you serious? It’s highly inappropriate,] Yu Ling said in strong disapproval.

[I understand how you feel but I agree with Master Ling. It is highly inappropriate,] Sonia followed up.

[Indeed, we can’t lower ourselves to his level. Send one of the better Martial Seniors up, that'll do just fine,] Jin Wo, another Martial Master suggested.

Rifu remained standing, but his agitation had been dampened significantly by his peers’ words.

[Ahaha…you lot are way too serious.]

This remark came from someone who had been silent this whole time, one Lamar Dey. Golden gleaming eyes, dark skin, and a short patch of neatly trimmed black hair; there was no question about the man's Western origin.

The group of Martial Masters turned to him at once. They had been curious about his input on the topic, so all paid close attention.

Lamar stood up and patted the Anzi School Head's shoulder. [Rifu, there’s no need for you to go because...I’ll be going.]

[Wha- wait, really?!] Rifu snapped toward the other, his and his fellow Martial Masters' faces twisted in shock.

[No no, there’s no need for you to go,] Yu Ling quickly voiced, his teacup trembling from his rising agitation.

If it was highly inappropriate for Rifu to compete against Ralf, it was extremely inappropriate for Lamar to do so, for unlike the rest of the group who held the second-highest Martial Temple title, Lamar Dey held the highest title, that of a Martial Grandmaster.

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[Whether there's a need to or not, I'll be going regardless,] Lamar said casually as his golden sights landed on Ralf in the distance. [It’s something I want to do, something I’ve wanted to do for a while now, ever since I first caught wind of their stories. So, I’ll put them to the test here and now and find out if they deserve their grand title or not.]

The Martial Masters were stunned by the words.

[Wait a minute, Grandmaster Dey,] Yu Ling forced out as he noted Lamar’s forward shift. [How about we do it in order? First, we'll send a skilled Martial Senior, then us Martial Masters and then you. If he manages to beat us all th-]

[Rejected,] Lamar cut in with a shake of the head. [I’ve already waited an eternity for this, any more will kill me. Say no more. Just watch. I believe what follows will be a learning experience, perhaps for all of us.]

Turning with these words, he snapped the telepathic link and descended the steps.

As he did, Rifu got in contact with those on the stage and informed them of the change in plans. Without saying a word, Juan and the others quickly vacated the platform.

"Ah, what's happening?"

"Whoa, him?"

"That is..."

The abrupt shift in schedule and atmosphere was immediately registered by the stands, who directed their attention to Lamar, the apparent cause of the change.

The middle-aged man's appearance was eye-catching, to say the least,

in fact, everyone had already paid him some attention due to his rather unique aesthetic.

He donned a sleeveless white Gi, a pair of white wristbands and a black belt, all of which had golden threads interweaved into their lining. The Gi was mostly plain, save for one addition: an embroidered image of a black sun glowing with a subtle golden light.

The imagery provoked a simple elegance but the outfit itself told a different story. The many loose threads and patches of grey where there should be white bespoke the outfit's rough history and simultaneously identified its wearer as a man of action.

Those born in Far West Islands were known for their especially dark skin. While a proud member of this region, Lamar’s skin colour couldn’t be attributed to his natural genetics. Instead of dark brown, his skin was dark grey in colour as though made of metal.

Calling him a Man of Steel was apt, as while not as tall as Rifu, being only six foot, his toughness and physical brawn were no less than the giant - rather, it was more. And unlike the bulky muscles the Anzi School Head sported, Lamar’s were of the compact variety. His enhanced body was the perfect combination of power and speed.

Impatience ravaged him but the barefooted Lamar's movements remained slow and deliberate, the purple netherian stone necklace swaying gently from his neck. He radiated strength, but the quiet undeniable kind, with every step taken making clear his masterful sense of balance and poise.

Ralf noted this all as he sized up Lamar, who had reached the centre of the platform.

The Martial Grandmaster didn’t mince words or beat around the bush.

“Silver,” he called out in a normal voice, though he might as well have said silence, as that’s exactly what the crowd followed up with. “I challenge you to a duel.”

The challenge sent a wave of shock throughout the stands; most people were aware of Lamar’s identity, after all. Once the shock passed, it was giddiness that dominated the crowd's hearts. Knowing Lamar’s identity and Ralf’s tendencies, they foresaw a future clash and loss...for Ralf that is.

The duo had been on a three-month winning streak, causing a lot of envy and bitterness to build up in others, and not just for those in their class either. Students from other years, staff and even Hunters had ground their teeth at the duo's successes.

Many - most in the crowd were eager to see the duo's perfect record smirched - to witness their fall from grace - and believed Lamar was one capable of doing the deed.

The title of Martial Grandmaster was rarer than the title of Mental Master. At present, only thirty-two people were given the honour of possessing the title, and of this group of monstrous masters, Lamar Dey was known to rank easily within the top five strongest.

His splendid physique was noteworthy but really it was his psionic class that set him apart. He was a Natural, and one that specialised in combat. He could perfectly memorise and replicate a sequence of actions after seeing it just once.

After acquiring this god-given talent, Lamar travelled the world with a burning desire, a burning desire to copy and master every martial art there was. He hadn't managed to complete his goal - and wasn't likely to - but over his nearly three decades of travel, he had managed to copy and master hundreds of individual martial arts.

There was little he hadn’t experienced during his forty-four years of living, and with his inhumane processing speed, anything unfamiliar would become familiar to him in the blink of an eye.

With all this known about him, those in the know were certain where to place their bets. While the duo were Natural-like, Lamar was an actual Natural, and an exceptional one at that.

Ralf raised a brow at the commotion. He was not ‘in the know’ and neither were Lane and the others. Still, the group put two and two together pretty quickly after listening in on the surrounding chatter.

‘Oh, so his name is Lamar and he's a big cheese, interesting...’

Despite thinking this, Ralf went ahead and asked the other's identity after lowering his milkshake.

“You are?"

The Martial Grandmaster's lips tugged up. “Lamar Dey is my name, young man. You said that Martial Juniors and Seniors won’t do, very well, what about a Martial Grandmaster such as myself then?”

Ralf and many others had their eyes flicker at the revelation.

“How about it, Combat Master? Do you dare accept my challenge?” Lamar asked with a squint, the light of challenge swirling within his golden orbs.

Ralf bit at the bait with a smile. He dismissed his Psi Controller and handed his milkshake to Yuki beside him, before standing up.

“I dare,“ he said, slamming his fist into his palm while sporting a smile of his own, one raring to go.

Challenge accepted; a duel between the two masters was imminent.

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