The clanging of metal sounded as the Bear Rose faction members stripped down from their armor. Piece after piece clanged to the ground, resounding throughout the quiet arena.
It felt as though every action taken in during this Selection had a deeper meaning, as though every battle should put them at their edge of their seats. Even the audience didn't understand why this was, but it still felt like the metal pieces were crashing against their hearts rather than the stone platform.
Though the Bear Rose Faction member didn't say a single word, the action of being forced to take off their armor was humiliation enough. It felt as though, simply by standing there, Leonel was smearing their faces.
Compared to Dune, though, this Bear Rose Faction member was far calmer. By the time he tossed off his helmet, revealing the expressionless visage within, the audience had already seen his battle worn body through and through.
Though this faction member was a level beneath Aphestus in terms of muscle definition and fast twitch fibers – maybe even two or three levels, in fact – the strength his body was bursting with was undeniable. Even the scars that ran across him didn't detract, but rather added to this perceived strength, leaving those watching on holding their breaths.
At that moment, there were many in the crowd who suddenly recognized the young man before Leonel.
Quite ironically, this was a young man who had had a falling out with Hero Peak as well. But, rather than not joining any Peak like Leonel had, he rather chose to join the Peak of their direct competitors.
Those that knew him called him Jeren the Scythe… Despite the fact he didn't wield a scythe at all.
Leonel stood with his arms crossed across his chest, not moving an inch as he watch Jeren take his armor off. Even though the battle had technically started already, Leonel didn't seem to care.
The stones beneath his feet began to ripple, beginning to glow a faint red.
The last piece of Jeren's armor fell to the ground. His palm flipped over, revealing a katana of outrageous length and with a curve just as obscene. Even with Jeren's strength, he allowed it to rest on the stone before him, but the gentle action alone caused the blade to sink.
Without even a touch, the stone was split in two, plunging the four meter long curved blade into its depths.
"Leonel Morales, is it?"
Leonel didn't respond, his expression remaining placid. His heartbeat grew steady as a mountain, its every thump sending a surge of blood through his body. His veins and arteries hardly swayed beneath the pressure, their sturdy walls even facilitating faster movement.
Leonel seemed to subconsciously control the strength of his heart, every pump reflecting his emotions.
"You have quite some potential for a new white belt. However, there are some lines you can't cross no matter how much potential you have. Vice Leader Abethor can't be here to deal with you personally for the slight of taking his family's heirloom, and quite frankly, can't be bothered to deal with you personally. I will be the one to send you on your way."
"Are you done?"
The platform suddenly quaked, sinking into the ground by a whole inch. The air seemed to collapse, fine ripples of space discharging in every direction. On first sight, it looked as though fine lines of black rain were falling through the arena.
"I'm getting really tired of this bullshit." Leonel spoke again, taking a single step forward.
The quaking became more harsh, the ground groaned and whined.
"Are you all really so eager for me to kill you? Would it make you feel better if I put your heads on a pike? If I desecrated your corpses? If I pissed on your graves? Is that what you want?"
Jeren's hands trembled, his brows frowning slightly. His palms grew sweaty outside of his control, soaking the hilt of his katana through. The grip of the material became slippery.
Leonel's voice seemed to rise up from an abyssal hell. The flames around him caused the air to crackle and pop, whatever moisture there had been being burned into nothingness.
"I asked you a question." Leonel's words hammered Jeren's heart.
Jeren's lip trembled. His instincts screamed, frying his nerves. He felt as though he was facing an Oryx Chief. Somehow, Leonel's body seemed to be ten times larger than it truly was, engulfing his field of vision until he couldn't see anything else.
At that moment, Jeren roared, his Force erupting into a skyscraper of energy. He took a heavy step forward, pushing his fear down. He had seen too much on the battlefield, he had no intention of falling without fighting. He had his own pride.
Arcs of lightning whipped around his body, his eyes lighting up with the same presence.
He bolted forward, his body leaving streaks of crackling lightning in his wake.
Jeren raised his sword, slashing down with a speed that was almost impossible to track. All much of the audience could see was an arch of flickering images, as though a fan of katanas was opening up in the path of his wing.
At that moment, Leonel's palm flipped over, a flexible, four meter long spear appearing.
With a flick of his wrist, the sound of metal meeting metal resounded through the ears of all in attendance.
Jeren's pupils constricted.
The tip of Leonel's spear balance the edge of his blade effortlessly. In fact, he could very clearly see a chip in his long, curved katana. If…
KACHA! BANG!
An explosion of fire caused Jeren to freeze. He watched as a two meter length of his once four meter long blade flipped into the air, spinning like a wheel of silver before piercing into the stone below like a hot knife through butter.
The eyes of the spear masters in the crowd widened [Meteoric Impact]!
Jeren looked at the half that remained of his katana, his mind completely blank.