Chapter 94: Chapter 93 : To Qualify (Part 3)

Accepting the order, Ralf hopped back into the fray. The matches continued in a similar fashion to the first ten, totally one-sided. Though, after five matches, Ralf decided to switch things up. Not just combat-wise, but approach-wise.

Instead of going on the offence immediately as he had been doing, he gave each fighter a thirty-second window where he wouldn’t attack them. He didn’t state this condition verbally, but the crowd and the fighters quickly caught onto this fact after enough iterations.

Most were angered by his action, believing him to be purposely humiliating his opponent. Ralf had no such intentions though. Instead, he wanted to learn. Thinking it over, he found beating his opponent quickly to be a great waste.

He considered the possibility that he could learn from them in some way, and so extended the match in hopes that his opponent indeed had something worth copying.

*Swoosh*

The air around the zigzagging Ralf was punctured repeatedly as the spearhead zoomed to and fro. Cynthia, his opponent, wielded a Psi spear. Pointing the tip his way, she had it extend and retract in rapid succession. Ralf kept his motions minimal, letting the spear pass by him by mere inches.

Cynthia didn’t lose heart at the sight. When the spearhead returned, a blue flash engulfed it, transforming it into a lance. Fully formed, she aimed the tip towards Ralf and had it thrust forth. The tip tore through the air as it raced towards the transmigrator’s chest. Swerving leftward, he avoided it cleanly, but the lance wasn’t done.

After passing his waist, the weapon’s secondary mechanism activated. The lance’s thick tip came apart and two scythe-like blades revealed themselves. As this was happening, Cynthia retracted her weapon and the blades sped towards her opponent’s backside.

But they would hit nothing but air. Ralf simply pushed the shaft away with his right palm causing the blade to veer off course. The sharp edge passed by his shoulder by mere centimetres.

‘Damn it!’

Seeing her attack so effortless dealt with, Cynthia grit her teeth. A shadow was cast on her face and heart.

‘This kid is a monster.’

The nonchalant manner in which Ralf had dealt with all her attacks had unnerved her to no end.

Nothing seemed to be able to faze the young man. This notion wasn’t one unique to the female fighter. As the matches continued, the idea had begun to take root and flourish in the audience’s minds.

‘No! Monster or not, I won’t back down!’

Riling herself up with the thought, she dismissed her scythe and conjured two Psi swords before launching forward.

*Slash* *Slash* *Slash*…

Ralf’s figure flickered left and right, forwards and backwards, as he slipped past the array of slashes.

*Swoosh*

At Ralf’s back step, his duel wielding opponent charged forward. Her blue blades moved with desperate frenzy, for they knew their time was ticking away.

A cat and mouse chase ensued, as the two fighters zigzagged across the sandy pit.

‘Hit hit hit hit…damn it!’

Extending her blades, changing their shape, switching up attack patterns; Cynthia did it all, yet her opponent remained untouchable. Worse than just missing was the fact that it was always by the slightest of margins.

With it happening so many times, her frustration and anger ballooned resulting in even sloppier attacks. Even understanding this destructive spiral, Cynthia was powerless to pull herself out of the rut. Rather, another consideration took priority. ‘Ah, ten seconds, I have to finish this now!’

Realising that the countdown had entered single digits, her mental pressure spiked and her actions became more rash.

While Cynthia’s mind was descending further into disarray, Ralf’s was water, gently swirling with nonchalant thoughts while counting down.

‘3 2 1…aaaaaaand 0.’

Reaching zero, he squinted and a sliver of seriousness flashed from his eyes. His stance shifted from evasive to offensive.

‘Ah…’

Noting this change and knowing what it signified, Cynthia’s heart jolted.

Entering fight or flight mode, she immediately chose the latter. It was not a matter of strategy- no, at this moment, she simply desired to get as far away from her monstrous opponent as possible. Psi moving to this desire, Cynthia flung herself backwards.

Exiting the other’s ‘attack range’, her heart filled with relief, but only for a moment as…

*Latch*

‘Wha-’

Whipped out at supersonic speeds, Fated String wrapped around Cynthia’s wrist tightly, and before she could fully process it, the tug arrived and sent her figure hurling towards the nearby wall.

*Boom*

A loud bang sounded out as Cynthia smashed back-first into the stone wall. Web-like cracks adorned her armour in the aftermath, which snakes of force used to slip through and bite, poisoning her with their momentary paralysing agent.

*Swoosh*

Ralf didn’t waste their efforts. Flashing to Cynthia’s exposed front, his cocked right hand rocketed forth, and midway there, Psi Drill materialised around it.

Bam!

Slamming into a crack, the violently rotating tip tunnelled through Cynthia’s defences in but a moment, thus ending the match.

[Match complete. Ralf wins. A rope and a drill, this is new. I wonder what else you’re hiding up your sleeves?]

[Watch and find out,] Ralf replied with a cheeky smile as he dismissed the Psi Drill and withdrew.

In the distance, Davy burst out laughing. Containing himself a few seconds later, he said, [Very well, I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Only seven more to go, ready to go again? ]

[I need another break.]

[I see, then out you go.]

Ralf nodded. Before exiting the ring, he turned to his dazed opponent.

“Haste makes waste and a disturbed mind courts defeat.”

Cynthia’s eyes flickered as these words struck her, as though enlightened to a great truth. “Ah, I see. I’ll make sure to remember that well, Ralf Fawkes.”

Ralf nodded then walked off. Somewhere around his twentieth match, this had become a thing. After the battle, he’d drop some ‘words of wisdom’ on his opponent. He had started it for fun’s sake, but the fighters quickly took to it. Seeing them so serious, Ralf made sure to drop something useful into the mix.

Now, not everyone was receptive to it. Initially, the act enraged both the fighters and the crowd. However, over time, as Ralf’s calibre was made clear, the fighters and crowd warmed up to it, with some especially eager to hear what would leave his mouth next.

*Plop*

Back at the stands, Ralf’s head plopped down onto his mother’s lap. Knowing the pit stop protocol, Hana began rubbing his head to recharge his spiritual ‘energy’.

Greg and Samuel wore wry smiles at the sight; the crowd did the same. The aura shift was jarring to experience. In battle, it was akin to the sharpest sword, whereas now, it was no different than a butter knife.

The mystery and depth he radiated only seconds earlier, dissipated and was replaced by a cloud of childlike innocence and joy. To some, the sight warmed their hearts; to others, it did the opposite. Regardless of which side one fell on, the notion that Ralf was an anomaly was a shared one.

“You used the drill and the string, I thought you would save that for later,” Hana commented while stroking his head.

“I was, but I thought I should give them a sneak preview for tonight, so I used it.”

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“How generous.”

“Of course, but that’s all they’re getting. Only punches and kicks from now on.”

The break passed by and Ralf once again made his way back to the ring.

Mental Link!

[[Huh, you’re still doing this,]] Rei suddenly connected and said. [[You should have been done with this like twenty minutes ago. Haa, I knew you would fool around, let’s switch, I’ll end it quickly.]]

[[Nope, and calm your tits. We have more than enough time to get everything done. There are only seven matches left, we’ll make it in time for the first showing, promise.]]

Rei’s brows relaxed at the reassuring words. [[I see, I’ll leave it to you then. Anything interesting happen out here?]]

[[Nop-ah…but it looks like that’s about to change.]]

‘Our first Onic,’ Ralf’s eyes flickered as he found himself suddenly submerged in the oppressive aura.

The bulky figure of Iwan landed heavily in the ring, leaving a crater in his wake. He unleashed his Psi; it ejected out in all directions, no different than an explosion and quickly smothered every inch of the sandy ring.

In it, Ralf found his Psi inoperable. This was to be expected. An Onic’s oppressive aura could disrupt Psi-use in those of the same Psi Rank and even those of a higher tier, not to mention someone two Psi Ranks lower.

[[Hmm, it seems my Psi has entered its rebellious phase,]] Ralf commented as he continued to expel his Psi. Doing it in focused bursts, he attempted to push the foreign aura back. He managed to, though only by a few centimetres, and it lasted extremely briefly. Far too brief for him to do anything of substance.

[[Looks like it.]]

[[Think Chaotic Disruption will do the trick?]]

[[My bet is on yes, but don’t test it now. There are way too many eyes on us and that card is best kept face down.]]

[[Of course,]] Ralf agreed. While he would put on a show, he had no intention of showing the world every trick he had up his sleeves. [[A Novice or Master, what do you think?]]

[[For his sake, a Master.]]

[[Right.]]

Ralf, despite his dominant performance so far, hadn’t lost his bearing on the overall landscape of power. He, and by extension Rei and Silver were weaklings. There were hundreds - no thousands out there, who could snuff them out in a heartbeat.

They were small fishes in a small pond. At least, this was the case when Psi was involved. When it wasn’t, the duo believed themselves to be already in the world’s upper echelon when it came to norin combat.

They couldn’t confidently place themselves at number one, but they believed that if there were better people out there, they would number fewer than a hundred. It was a bold statement, but they would stand by it. The combination of their impeccable martial skill and their body’s absurd physical feats fueled this belief. They couldn’t see themselves losing to just anybody.

Still, even with this belief firmly planted in his mind, Ralf assessed his opponent with the same rigour he always did. For all he knew, the bulky man before him was one of the dozens capable of besting him.

‘He’s a brawny one, alright. I wouldn’t be surprised if he took an inheritance potion of some kind, that skin looks like it can brush off bullets,’ Ralf’s eyes moved over Iwan’s waist. ‘Duel wielding knives huh, that’s a pretty weird choice,’ he thought as he factored in the other’s size and projected strength.

[Iwan, retract your aura, the match hasn’t started,] Davy’s reprimanding words sounded out.

Iwan let his aura linger for a few seconds before finally retracting it. All the while, he continued to direct an intimidating stare Ralf’s way.

“There something on my face mister?” After letting it simmer for a while, Ralf finally addressed his sour-faced opponent.

Iwan narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got a good poker face, I’ll give you that.”

“No need to add poker, I know I’m blessed.” Saying, Ralf turned to Hana and sent a cheeky wink.

“Ha ha, I wonder if you’ll be able to crack jokes as easily after the match.”

“That’s up to fate. Though,” Ralf’s gaze focused on Iwan’s face, “fate has a thing for handsome faces so…” He let his words and gaze trail off. There was no need to say more, the message had been delivered.

“You bastard, just wait until I-”

[Are you two done now? Okay, let’s begin.]

The usual preparations ensued.

[Ralf, your opponent proposes a cold weapon limited battle. Do you accept the condition?]

Ralf shrugged. [Well, it’s not like I have a hot weapon or even cold weapon on hand so it’s whateve-]

[We can lend you one if you wish,] Davy cut in with.

[That’s a service you offer?]

[Yes. If it’s in our storage, readily available and within the rules, fighters can borrow equipment.]

[Then, what about swords? Do you have any of them on hand?]

[Yes, quite a number. How much do you need?]

[Hmm, bring about thirty over.]

[T-Thirty, you want thirty, are you sure?]

[Yes, thirty, but if you only have twenty or ten, that’s fine too. But if you can, the more, the merrier.]

[I see, very well. I’ll relay your request.]

After finishing up with Ralf, Davy explained Ralf’s request to Iwan. His face instantly warped upon hearing its absurdity. However, after composing himself, he nodded.

Important to note, while one couldn’t use any item they hadn’t declared, one could use their opponent’s declared items. All declared items could be used without issue, meaning Iwan could wield any of Ralf’s swords, and similarly, should he come into possession of them, Ralf could wield Iwan’s knives.

This rule was to ensure fairness and caution. There was both benefit and risk to bringing tools into battle. They could aid you, but could also be used against you.

In Iwan’s mind, he believed Ralf’s request would lead to the latter. He chuckled to himself at his opponent’s apparent foolishness.

The cold weapon-only limitation was agreed upon. After half a minute of waiting, the swords were delivered.

Eyeing the silver gleam they each shone with, Ralf’s sword spirit awakened.

With his telekinesis, he planted each blade into the ground, a short distance from each other. Finishing constructing his sword domain, he plucked two swords from the dirt, cleaned them with his Psi and then perched them on his shoulders.

[Ready?] Davy asked for confirmation.

[I’m ready, let’s get this show on the road,] Iwan answered impatiently.

[Ready.]

[Okay. The battle begins in 3 2 1…go!]

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