As Su Yang continued to dodge and weave under the mounting pressure, Su Ran’s concern deepened—his opponent moved with such composure and precision, it was as if the gaping wound in his abdomen didn’t exist at all.
"What kind of a freak are you? Why can you still move like that?" Su Ran asked in disbelief, voice cracking with frustration and fear.
However, Su Yang didn’t answer.
His silence spoke louder than anything else—like a monster who no longer needed words to assert dominance.
*SHUA–*
Su Ran thrust forward with a sharp, piercing jab meant to pin Su Yang in place, but Su Yang tilted just enough to let it pass by his shoulder.
*SHUA—*
Su Ran followed it up with another jab towards his neck, however, Su Yang rolled under it, before sidestepping a sweeping cut.
"Just stay in one place damn it–" Su Ran complained in panic, as Su Yang’s movements became increasingly cleaner, as though his body had forgotten it was dying.
And it was this panic that spilled into his technique, as he launched [Venom Bloom], which was a six-hit rapid combo infused with spear energy, where each strike he dished out was faster than before.
*Shua—*
.
.
.
*Shua—*
The thrusts were blinding in speed, however, despite him doing his best, Su Yang managed to weave through all of it, before pivoting low, as he countered with [Flickering Step]—vanishing for a split second before reappearing directly in front of Su Ran, blade already in motion.
*CLANG!*
Their weapons clashed.
But only Su Yang pressed forward, as he unleashed [Phantom Cleave], feinted left, and then spun into a devastating [Mountain Splitting Slash]—powered by pure momentum and rage.
*CRACK!*
Su Ran’s defense shattered at this moment, as his spear flew from his hands.
And in the same motion, Su Yang drove his shoulder forward, slamming into his brother and knocking him flat onto his back.
Su Ran gasped, the wind knocked from his lungs. His limbs flailed as he tried to roll away, but it was already too late.
Su Yang raised his sword.
And brought it down—stopping just one inch above Su Ran’s throat.
"Yield," Su Yang growled, voice low and final, as Su Ran’s eyes widened, his face betraying a thousand emotions, as it went from shock, to relief, to humiliation, to anger, to resignation, and finally to acceptance all within a split second.
His mouth opened, but no words came, as he just nodded—twice, quickly.
"Winner Su Yang of Rodova!" the referee declared at this moment, pushing Su Yang off Su Ran, as the Rodova supporters popped like crazy.
*CHEERS*
Deafening cheers covered the entire arena, as even the Geneva supportres could not help but clap for the iron-man performance that Su Yang had just shown, as even if they did not support him, they could not help but respect him after this fight.
"That’s what I thought…. I’m better than you, commoner tra—" Su Yang spoke in a haze, as he tried to get back to his feet and raise his fist in celebration, however, before he could do that, he just collapsed face first into the floor.
*THUD*
Blood spread from beneath him like an ink blot on the pale tiles, and the crowd collectively gasped.
The referee blinked, then turned toward the Rodova bench for instruction, as although Su Yang desperately needed treatment, as per tournament rules, he could not receive it until he was either defeated or the team yielded his spot.
And with Yu Shen and Minerva out, all eyes landed on Leo, who sat on the Rodova bench with his arms crossed and his face convoluted into a frown.
"He’s out of the tournament,"
"He won’t return. Get him treated." Leo said flatly, conceding Su Yang’s spot, as he knew that delaying Su Yang’s treatment would be for naught.
There were absolutely no chances of Su Yang recovering from such an injury by himself without external help, and since he couldn’t get that on the bench, having a dead body around was pointless for Rodova.
"Fighter Su Yang of Rodova is declared unfit to continue by his team and will no longer participate in the tournament—"
"Medical team please take him away!" The referee announced, as the jumbotron screen turned from showing a 2-1 score to a 3-1 score, as the healers rushed in.
Su Yang was in a pretty rough shape, and needed intense surgery to save his life, however with how competent the doctors present at hand were, his life was in no critical danger.
However, what did suck though, was how he was down and out after a single fight, as this essentially left Leo to pull back Rodova from a 3-1 disadvantage, while being the last Grandmaster fighter on the roster.
—------------
"What a valiant effort by Su Yang to put a point on the board for Rodova," Derek said, his voice a blend of admiration and concern. "But unfortunately, that win is only as good as a tie—because Su Yang is now officially out of the tournament."
"What a fight indeed," Lee agreed. "The kid fought like a man possessed. But with his exit, the weight of the entire team now falls on one man—Leo Skyshard."
"To be fair, Leo has pulled off miracles before," Derek added. "He once turned a 4–0 deficit into a 5–4 win against Button Academy. The man is built for clutch moments."
"Yeah, but this isn’t Button Academy," Lee cut in, sharper this time. "This is Geneva. The number one ranked academy. These aren’t scrappy underdogs he would be fighting—these are the best fighters of the tournament.
So turning around a 3–1 deficit against them? That’s bordering on impossible."
"Especially," he continued, "when your only remaining partner is still stuck at Master level, because that means Leo’s essentially fighting Geneva alone from here on out."
Derek let out a breath, the weight of the situation sinking in.
"Well… it is what it is. The question now is—what can he do about it?"
—-------------
Following Su Yang’s defeat, it was Leo who walked out to the Sky-God Arena—amongst a faint cheer from the Rodova faithful.
The cheers sounded half-hearted and subdued now, instead of the roaring support that Yu Shen got when he walked out, as it was the sound of a crowd that had already buried its hope.
They clapped for Leo because they had to.
Not because they believed.
The jumbotron still read 3–1, and everyone in the stadium knew exactly what that meant.
Rodova’s bench was depleted, their stars were gone and their chances to win it all were slim to none.
And yet—
Leo walked like none of it mattered.
He didn’t worry about things beyond his control.
Things like—could he really win four matches in a row against some of the finest fighters in the universe?
Could he really carry a broken team to the championship?
Or about who his next opponent was going to be?
As he knew that all those thoughts were nothing more than noise.
He let the doubts drift to the far edges of his mind, like mist sliding off a blade, and instead focused on the only thing that grounded him, which was the cold steel of the daggers in his grip, and how familiar they felt in his hands.
’One at a time….’
’Let’s just take this one at a time—’