“It’s a pleasure to face one of the faces of the new generation.” The girl in front of me speaks.
She is my next opponent. Her brown hair with green streaks falls below her shoulders. She has an average height and build, and deep, calm eyes. Her name is Josselyn.
“Thank you. You’re quite famous as well. Let’s give the audience a good show.” I reply with a wide smile.
Josselyn is an inspiration for almost everyone who has come from nothing. She comes from a large and relatively poor family. In her family everyone began working from a very young age. As soon as they were able to find any kind of job, they had no choice but to take it.
Her older siblings worked hard enough so that when she was born they could at least give her the chance to attend school. The effort of her whole family paid off. There was always at least a plate of food every day, and their youngest little sister was adored by everyone.
From a very young age Josselyn has been considered a beauty. Even now she is pursued by many sons of wealthy families and even receives invitations from noble heirs asking her out. But it’s not only her beauty—her strength is also something to consider. Since childhood she began practicing with daggers and training her mana.
She won many tournaments while growing up, earning money to help her family. Little by little she made a name for herself in her small town, then in the nearest city, and eventually she became strong enough to earn a scholarship to the best school in her region in the Kingdom of Juka. That’s why I know a bit about her—Brendu told me her story.
“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re Princess Brendu’s boyfriend.” Josselyn smiles fiercely. Her gaze makes it clear she doesn’t intend to give even a little in our fight.
Josselyn has openly declared that she admires and respects Brendu. It all started when she lost to the princess in a tournament. She became fascinated by Brendu’s strength. At that moment she realized that nobles also work hard to become stronger every day, even if their circumstances are different.
My opponent doesn’t just admire my girlfriend for her strength—she always praises Brendu’s beauty and elegance as well. As far as I know, they talk from time to time, though not very often. I’ll tell Brendu to give her a few words of comfort after Josselyn loses.
“If you hesitate for even a moment, you’ll lose. Even if you give it your all, you’ll still lose.” My words seem to motivate the woman in front of me. She looks eager to start as soon as possible.
The whistle sounds, signaling the beginning of the match.
I watch Josselyn carefully, waiting for her first move. She constructs several spheres of fire and water around herself. All of them are launched toward me, trying to cover as much space in the arena as possible.
Josselyn is known for having an enormous amount of mana. Her mana pool must be as large as Brendu’s or Ogine’s.
The constructs keep coming, exploding everywhere as I move across the battlefield. The arena isn’t small, but it’s not large enough to avoid everything forever.
“It’s starting already.” Brendu had told me before this match began.
Josselyn has some kind of sensory ability. She usually starts fights this way. She creates numerous spheres of water and fire, not caring whether they all miss. What matters to her is creating a massive curtain of steam across the battlefield.
Her constructs are part of a distraction—the first step of something larger. If they deal damage, that’s just an extra bonus, not the main objective.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The spheres keep raining down even when my eyes can’t see more than two meters ahead. The steam grows denser and denser.
Unfortunately for her, she can’t cover the entire arena. If she wants to maintain this steam curtain for as long as possible, she has to limit its range.
I don’t plan to leave her smoke screen. I plan to play her game.
I don’t need my eyes to know where she is or from which direction those fire and water spheres are coming.
“What beautiful footwork.” I murmur, genuinely impressed. It seems like some kind of technique. She must have trained those movements extensively. I can’t hear her steps, and she moves efficiently to avoid dispersing the steam in every direction.
She positions herself at my side, brings her feet together, and launches forward in an attempt to stab one of her daggers into my right ribs.
Her attempt obviously fails—my swords block it. I step aside to avoid a fireball and another dagger aimed at my leg.
I remain still, waiting for her next move. I can feel a hint of surprise in her Imra. She couldn’t hide that emotion within it.
Josselyn doesn’t give up. She begins moving side to side, lunging like a spear whenever she sees an opening. So far all her attacks have been blocked efficiently, though a few have nearly connected thanks to her speed.
The next attack is more frontal than expected. I take the opportunity to block both her daggers with a single sword while my other blade swings toward her shoulder, aiming to sever her arm.
She senses the danger and moves quickly enough to avoid the strike. With a quick step she retreats again to reposition.
“If that’s everything you’ve got, you won’t be able to hurt me.” I shout, trying to provoke her.
I feel a slight change in her daggers. Her body constructs seem far stronger than the fire and water spheres. To be honest, those spheres weren’t really a threat to me. I could have taken them almost unharmed even with just my ice armor.
On the other hand, I feel a huge amount of condensed mana in her daggers. She seems far more skilled in close combat.
Josselyn charges again. Her speed increases slightly compared to before, but the biggest change is the strength behind her strikes. The weight of her attacks has increased, and one of her blows almost forces me to step back.
When I block her latest strike, I notice it—her daggers are different now. One is filled with fire mana and the other with water mana.
Her attacks become sharper and faster. I can sense a faint danger from this sudden surge in power.
Has she been trained as an assassin or something similar? Or maybe a scout? That seems most likely considering the techniques she has shown so far.
Her daggers and my swords clash repeatedly. I have to move constantly to avoid being trapped between her mana spheres and her close-range attacks.
I misjudge the strength of her next strike. Her left dagger deflects my sword, and her right dagger—originally aimed at my stomach—changes direction and stabs into my arm.
I notice a satisfied smile on her face. Too bad that’s as far as I’ll allow it to go. Just like in my previous fight, I increase the gravity mana surrounding my body. My movements become stronger and faster. My free sword swings instantly.
Josselyn partially dodges the blow. What could have been a deep cut becomes only a medium wound across her shoulder.
My other sword moves at an equally alarming speed, stabbing near the pit of her stomach. She tries to retreat, but I don’t let her. I keep pursuing her relentlessly while she struggles desperately to keep me away.
Cuts appear across her body as the damage accumulates. I’ve also begun to suffer a few scratches and burn marks on my skin. She stops trying to maintain the steam curtain and focuses entirely on creating distance to buy time.
In one misstep she slips slightly—not enough to fall, but enough to give me an opening. I slash off her arm, making her scream in pain. I take that chance to trap her inside my specialized gravity prison.
The steam gradually disappears due to the violent movements, and Josselyn has stopped producing it. She tries desperately to free herself, pouring all her willpower into her Imra. We clash in an Imra battle, and I win easily.
When the steam fully disperses, she stands there covered in wounds with one arm missing. My two swords stop a centimeter from her neck. She is completely trapped.
“I surrender.” A weak and desperate voice echoes.
She tried until the very end to free herself or injure me further, but I never gave her a chance. I appreciate that she understood her position—people like that tend to live much longer.
A light envelops her body. Her most serious wounds begin healing rapidly. Most likely she’ll need additional treatment to fully recover, just like my previous opponent.
“You’re impressive! You were just unlucky.” I extend my hand and she accepts it.
Our fight ends like that, with the entire audience shouting and applauding our match. I’m sure the cameras must have done something with the steam so the spectators could see everything.
She was simply unlucky to be paired against me. She never had even the slightest chance against my Personal World. Still, I’ve realized something: I’m not invincible or untouchable. I’ve been injured in both fights so far. Every participant here is extremely talented.