In a certain area around himself, Nero maintained absolute control, and Vilhelm could not pass it without risking being attacked by Nero. The moment he stepped back, he had exited Nero’s domain of control and so every time Nero came closer, his instincts warned him that danger was approaching.
Thus, in an unusual display, Nero kept pushing him back without ever actually getting close. Just bringing his domain of control within the line of movement Vilhelm wanted to take would automatically end up blocking him. Though Vilhelm had an entire corner of the arena to move around in, it actually felt a lot smaller.
"My chest does not have a heart, it has a drum of war," Nero suddenly recited, breaking the tense silence with his even voice. As he spoke, he let loose the control he had over his emotions, letting the sensation of everything being within his control fill the room.
Even those not fighting felt their breaths catch, as a chill ran down their backs.
"When the drum beats, it beats for war," Nero continued, taking a purposeful step forward, pushing Vilhelm further back. Yet before Vilhelm could try to escape, he attacked. Vilhelm’s reaction speed was immense, yet restricted by the edge of the arena there was only so much he could do.
Vilhelm narrowed his eyes. If he couldn’t dodge, then the only option was to attack. Yet neither Vilhelm, nor anyone else, expected how Nero reacted. Instead of dodging the attack, or trying to minimise the damage, Nero leaned into the attack, ignoring the punch to the face, and grabbed Vilhelm into a bear hug.
"When the drum of war beats, I am at war," Nero whispered in Vilhelm’s ear, his voice filled with deadly conviction as he picked up Vilhelm. At this point, it would actually be quite easy to throw him out of the arena, but Nero didn’t do that.
Instead, he turned around and slammed him onto the ground with a loud, thundering boom that shook whoever stood beside the arena.
Slammed into the ground, Vilhelm got a taste of what Nero felt when his head hit the ground, and for the briefest of moments felt disoriented. When he came to, he saw Nero above him, holding him down by the collar of his shirt and slamming down a fist with full force.
"I surrender!" Vilhelm blurted out in a panic as his eyes locked onto the fist, yet it was too late to stop the punch.
BANG!
Nero’s fist slammed into the ground right beside Vilhelm’s face, leaving him shaking. Vilhelm was certain that if he took that punch, he would have died. Or, at the very least, he would have been seriously injured.
He looked in Nero’s eyes, searching for signs of vented anger or vindication, yet he only found an undisturbed tranquility. It was as if this victory was no big deal for him, and as if he had not just tried to kill Vilhelm!
Yet as the sudden, unexpected fear slowly drained out of Vilhelm’s heart, it was replaced by an unfamiliar excitement. The thrill of danger, the pressure of the fight, the absolute domination Nero displayed without even exerting himself... These were all things Vilhelm had never felt before, at least in a spar.
"I’m sorry Vilhelm," said Nero as he stood up, ignoring the blood dripping from his knuckles. "You’re a good guy, but I am not your rival, I’m certainly not your lover, and I see no reason to be your enemy. You can read books, you can play, you can do whatever you want, but I have no time to play games. I am a soldier, a warrior. I did not join KMA to waste time on pointless pursuits. I am here to become the best soldier I can be, and that means I have no time to waste on such things."
There was no insult in Nero’s voice, nor condescension. He was not looking down on Vilhelm’s pursuits, but he was making it clear that they were worlds apart. Vilhelm was searching for someone who could push him, and help him figure out what it meant to live through that. After all, humans were social animals, and interacting with one another was a part of humanity.
However Nero... per his own words, as long as that drum in his chest was beating, he was at war, and that drum would never stop beating until he died. The two of them... were worlds apart.
The third fight had ended, yet none of them were injured. However, the ending was one that most could not accept. Compared to the first two matches, the last match was not so flashy. There were no insane displays of strength or speed. There was no amazing technique that turned the tide of battle.
It was stable. It was consistent. Most of all, it was incomprehensible to those who were not in the arena, at least as far the cadets were concerned.
Nero looked away from the bewildered Vilhelm and searched the room. He did not care for the shocked or surprised expressions on the cadets, nor the bewildered expression of the referee.
No, he was searching for Professor Isabella. He was sure that she would be here today. Indeed, he was correct. A quick search resulted in him spotting her standing there, looking down on the defeated Vilhelm like a smug little child.
Nero wondered if her appearance was the only thing that remained young, but that was a thought he would never voice. Isabella nodded towards Nero, as if to let him know that she would fulfil her part of their deal.
Nero nodded as well, and moved on. He did not feel too excited about beating Vilhelm - it was an inevitability. This was merely a single step in his plans.
"Nero, I challenge you to a fight tomorrow," Vilhelm suddenly called out, his voice echoing throughout the room.
The challenge surprised no one.
"Sure, I accept," Nero said casually as he walked away. His mind was already focused on his next steps.