Chapter 233: Chapter 210 : Calibration

Ralf’s hands separated as he glanced toward his friends, all of whom had put their Psi Controllers aside to focus on him. He smiled and dismissed his Psi before returning his gaze to the platform.

"A Martial Grandmaster, that's no small hurdle, brother," Skye commented as he too focused on the platform.

"Indeed," Ralf nodded. "Perhaps today is the day my perfect academic record gets stained,” he said in a playful tone, projecting nothing but confidence.

“Haa, I wish," Charlotte voiced with her head held in her hands. "What I wouldn’t pay to see you face down and ass up.” The Onic Master's words garnered both agreement and weird looks from those listening in. “Seeing you taken down a peg would be cathartic. but...I just can’t picture it. Would have to see it to believe it."

She wasn’t alone in feeling this way, Ralf’s other friends shared similar feelings. Their general ignorance regarding Lamar’s identity and status swayed their outlook, no doubt, but even if they were fully aware, they would still believe in their vexing friend’s victory. Ralf had built quite the image of dominance in their minds.

By now, with everything they had seen from him, Yuki and the rest had a hard time believing that he'd lose. The duo could do the impossible with ease, so achieving the unlikely, such as defeating a Martial Grandmaster, seemed to be well within their ballpark. As such, none foresaw anything other than a victory.

Ralf read the group's confidence and had his lips tug up -though this smile would falter with the Onic Master's next words.

“Still,” Charlotte’s gaze locked onto the distant Lamar, “against a Martial Grandmaster, even you wouldn’t be able to come out unscathed. Your roughed-up appearance in the aftermath…” The Onic Master shut her eyes as she let her imagination work its magic. Once the image of his sorry state appeared before her, a slight smile materialised on her beautiful face. “...mmm, yes, not a bad sight, yep. I can definitely get off on that.”

“What a friend,” Ralf said with a shake of his head, a wry sigh escaping his lips. "What kind of friend wants another friend beaten up? The unkind kind, I suppose.”

"What kind," Charlotte's eye twitched as she flared up, "the kind of friend that gets their butt painted every week."

"Hey, that's on you."

"That's the problem. Anyway, get a move on before I kick your ass myself, everyone's waiting."

Ralf agreed to her final sentiment, the crowd’s patience was wearing thin. He gave his friends a final once-over before directing his attention to the platform.

“Break a leg.”

“Good luck.”

“Kick some ass brother, I’ll be taking notes.”

Striding forward, the Combat Master smiled as his friends’ encouragements sounded in his rear. After a few steps, his figure flashed blue and he leapt into the ring. Landing with the grace of a feather, he approached Lamar who waited at the centre.

“Ralf, huh? Silver not coming out?”

Ralf’s eyes twitched at the other's daring. After settling his expression, he addressed his opponent. “Whether he comes out or not depends on you. As it stands, you’ll have to deal with me,” he said, sporting a humourless smile.

“Mmm, I see. Guess I’ll have to beat him out of you then.” Lamar crashed his fist into his palm as he flashed a toothy smile.

"You can try," the Transmigrator replied blandly.

Ralf wasn’t misled by the man’s words. Looking into the Martial Grandmaster’s eyes, he saw confidence, yes but even more than this, he noted a sublime calm, one that he was all too familiar with.

“Okay, let’s get this started.”

“Sure.”

Lamar threw his hands to his sides and had his arms become right angles with his palms facing toward the Transmigrator. At the same time, he lowered his body, leaned forward and strengthened his stance. Ralf understood his actions at once and approached the Martial Grandmaster before mimicking him. The pair of would-be fighters interlocked their hands and began pushing.

Before norin fights, well those run by the Martial temple, there was a calibration process of sorts. Ralf and Lamar currently were running through this process, testing each other’s physical strength.

‘Oh…'

‘Oh…'

Muscles flexing and bulging, both fighters’ had their expressions flicker as they registered their opponent’s strength. They were more or less equal in this department, a fact that came as surprise to both of them. They pushed hard, causing their faces to redden and the titles beneath their feet to rattle and crack.

Ten seconds of this passed until they finally relented. The pair of fighters pulled away from each other, both sporting satisfied smiles. To battle and win as equals, was the best situation possible. The calibration didn’t end there though.

“Anzi. Which kata?” Lamar asked, shaking his hands and body out.

Ralf did the same before responding. “Let’s go with the seventh.”

“Very well.”

Saying this, Lamar ceased his ‘jiggling’ and fell into the starting stance of Anzi’s seventh kata. Ralf joined him a second later, positioning himself back to back while assuming the same stance.

“On your mark.”

Lamar took the cue he was given with a slight nod. “At zero then. Three two one…zero.”

Following the words, a punch then another and then another. Punching and kicking, the Martial Grandmaster zoomed across the stone platform, moving forward with each attack. Ralf started a tad late but quickly caught up to the other and from the fourth attack onward, the pair were perfect mirrors of each other.

“Whoa…so skilful.”

“Beautiful…”

“Ah…”

Those observing couldn’t help but marvel at the flawless display of the kata and the synchronicity of the pair. The Martial Masters were particularly affected by the two's performance, especially Ralf's.

The looks of disdain they wore previously faded away as awe and appreciation took their place. This was especially the case for Rifu, the Anzi School Head. Seeing his school’s kata so perfectly executed removed the frown from his face.

*Swoosh*

The kata ended with a punch.

“Speed even as well, excellent excellent,” Lamar rejoiced as he broke form. “Okay, calibration complete. Now, for the conditions. Want to do this the old fashion way or do you want to have Psi protection?”

“Old fashion way, of course."

Lamar showed an approving smile at the words. “Of course, forgive my rudeness. How about a time limit?”

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“None, there’ll be no need for that. We’ll fight till one of us gives up or is knocked unconscious.”

The Martial Grandmaster's eyes turned crescent-shaped; his opponent was everything he expected him to be, and it delighted him.

“Hm, what about ring outs?”

“No ring outs. But at the same time, you can’t stay out of the ring for too long. Let’s go with twenty seconds. If someone is off the platform for more than twenty seconds, the match will be called in favour of the other person. Of course, this only applies if one person is on the platform and the other person is not. If both of us are off the platform, let’s say, wrestling each other, it doesn’t matter how long we’re both off. Also, we'll just use our physical bodies to fight. No weapons or items are allowed, and no use of potions during the fight."

“That pretty much covers everything, we’ll follow those rules then. Now, with the boring stuff settled, let’s get this show on the road.” Lamar turned at these words and strode to the northern end of the platform.

“Yeah.” Ralf agreed and then moved to the southern end of the stone platform. He glanced back at the stands one last time, flashing a cheeky smile at this friend group who returned a handful of thumbs-ups, before turning to face his opponent.

“Ready?”

“More than ready, eager. Now, start the countdown,” Lamar said as he assumed an open combat stance.

“Sure. Okay, we'll start at zero. Ten…nine - oh?” Ralf cut off his countdown as his Psi Sense was prickled; a mountainous aura was fast approaching his position. Turning his head, he captured a golden figure’s sharp descent.

Air displaced in mass, sending dirt and pebbles flying off the edge of the platform. Going from supersonic to zero in but a moment, the Golden Fang Hunter let gravity complete his journey’s last few inches. He touched down gracefully and the perfect bubble he was encased in came apart, scattering into golden particles. A commotion broke out in the stands as people recognized the Ascendent in question.

“Oh...you’re back at the Academy, since when?” Ralf asked, surprise and delight shining in his eyes.

Sigurd, bearing his usual jovial smile, turned to Ralf. "Aha, good to see you again as well, young man. I've been back for a few days now, been meaning to pay you a visit, just couldn't find the time. I’ve heard about your exploits thus far and…ha, you’re really something. And now this," the aged Ascendant's face tugged up as he glanced around and caught sight of the anticipation and impatience burning in the stands, "you never fail to amaze me, Ralf.”

Ralf puffed up his chest and showed a proud smile in response.

Sigurd chuckled at the sight. "So, how's your time at the Academy been so far? No regrets, I hope."

The Transmigrator shook his head vigorously. "It's been splendid. The Academy's exactly as you advertised and more. Got to meet some interesting characters and partake in some fun events. I definitely don’t regret coming here. Everything has been great so far,” Ralf said, showing a radiant expression as memories of the last three months flashed through his head.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Sigurd said, smitten by the review.

He held great pride in his Academy and wished that all who visited it, would find their experience both enjoyable and fruitful. Ralf's sincere praise warmed his heart.

“I’ve heard about the friends you’ve made so far,” Sigurd's sights moved to Lane and the others, “and I think it’s wonderful. Your group shows promise, a promise of great things in the near future, no do-"

*Clap*

“Hey,” Lamar spoke up as he hit his limit. “I don’t want to interrupt your reunion but…we have a match to get to.”

“Always so impatient, really. Hold your horses, Lamar, there are still many others who have to make their way over. This is a rare event so naturally, we’ll record it…if that’s fine with both of you?”

“No problem with me, was about to suggest it even."

"Yeah, it's fine with me. Just tell them to hurry it up."

Getting these responses, Sigurd nodded. “Very well, I'll put in the word. It'll take a few minutes at most, just be patient. I know, why do you don't you two do some stretches or something in the meantime?”

The fighters took to the suggestion and began doing just that. As the seconds ticked away, more and more people flocked to the arena. News of Ralf facing Lamar spread to all parts of the Academy, causing all who were free and even those who were occupied with tasks to drop what they were doing and tune in. A portion went to observe in person but most chose to do so from afar, watching through a telepathic link.

The Golden Fang Hunter eyed proceedings with a look of approval. ‘Astra will definitely love this,’ he thought with a sly smile, imagining the face the S-Rank Adventurer would show upon seeing the footage.

After (indirectly) receiving Micheal’s words to stay away from the duo, Astra approached Sigurd with a request. The request? To keep her up to date with the duo's activities at the Academy and to, of course, send all footage of their Events.

The Golden Fang Hunter approved the request, happy to help his younger friend scratch her itch, himself knowing how it felt. Thus, all info and footage regarding the duo till now had fallen into the bespectacled beauty's lap, who then lapped it up for entertainment's sake.

Sigurd, upon learning of the upcoming match between his old friend and Ralf, knew he had to record it, for his, for Astra's and for the world's sake.

Three minutes later, all preparations were set.

Sigurd, atop a golden Psi podium just outside the platform, shifted his gaze to the fighters.

[Ready?]

[Yes]

[Ready?]

[Yes.]

Getting identical responses from both Ralf and Lamar, Sigurd took a deep breath before letting his voice echo through the collective channel.

[Combat Master. Martial Grandmaster. Both titles speak volumes, no doubt, but which one is more deafening. We’ll find out shortly,] Sigurd said, getting into the announcer role.

He then went over the basic conditions Ralf and Lamar had agreed upon earlier and then added a condition of his own at the end. [...also, the match can end at my discretion. If the fight has gone on too long or if one of you is severely injured, I’ll put a stop to the match and declare a victor on the spot. That is all. Everything understood? Good. Then, let’s proceed. Okay, on the count of ten. Ten…nine…eight…]

The audience and the fighters’ bodies tensed up as the seconds ticked away. Lamar and Ralf’s minds shifted into combat mode; their eyes and expressions went blank as their minds dismissed all useless information unrelated to battle and their opponent.

Confident as they were, neither fighter underestimated their opponent. Lamar had seen footage of Ralf in action and knew not to expect a doormat. Ralf hadn’t seen much from his opponent but the title of Martial Grandmaster was sufficient to establish his threat level. Yes, threat. Just as Charlotte said, Ralf didn’t believe he’d come out of this fight spotless. He prepared himself for a hard-fought victory.

[...three…two…one…zero! Battle start!]

Sounding the announcement, the golden wall separating the fighters dematerialised.

*Swoosh*

*Swoosh*

The fighters moved to the sound of tiles cracking and winds howling and thus, the match between the Combat Master and Martial Grandmaster had begun.

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