Sorry it's late! Been having trouble writing as of late.

Today was my second fight. Frankly, I was not looking forward to it. Nonetheless, the morning air was quite refreshing and cool—especially since we had begun to enter winter. The cold weather put me in a good mood, even giving me great energy.

I was much more confident compared to my last fight for many reasons. Having spectated on the previous fights of my current opponent, I had a good evaluation of their strengths and weaknesses as well as their inclinations in combat and fighting style.

Defiant Soul lived true to his name. In a group combat, he would probably shine better, but in one-on-one fights he was in somewhat of a big disadvantage. But that didn't mean he could not make some adjustments to be a contender. As a matter of fact, he would probably be a tough opponent.

But Evyionne felt particularly confident to the dangerous point of arrogance. She didn't know why it was so.

After some basic courtesies and the announcer's usual greeting and introduction, my opponent and I promptly made our way onto the center stage. Defiant Soul had a very simple costume—pure white. There was no other color on him, and his mask was just a plain cloth that silhouetted tightly around his face. Not even his eyes were showing.

"And for the opening fight today, it'll be Lionheart against Defiant Soul!"

The cheers that echoed in the arena were just as riotous as the past few days. I could tell that this event was a really popular one—if that wasn't already evident enough. A part of me was expecting these people to get tired of the whole thing. But it seemed it was not the case.

I got into my stance, but I modified it a little considering the new experience and knowledge I got from sparring every night with Elion.

I would suppose I had embodied more of the serpent's spirit.

"How different! It seems Lionheart has changed styles! What are we going to see in this round?"

Defiant Soul's face could not be seen under the mask, but he tilted his head to the side as he gazed at me...perhaps from curiosity.

For the tournament, as long term as this one was, unpredictability was also a factor for victory. I wasn't expecting my opponents to remain stagnant in their progress as well, but if it was progress, I wasn't willing to lose. Erenol had bared all her cards last time. I had a feeling she would struggle very much, even in the loser's tournament.

Which wasn't the point. Because I was supposed to be worried about my own ass being kicked for the time being. Erenol's fight was done, so there was no room to worry for her for now.

I took a deep breath, watching Defiant Soul slip into his starting position as well.

We both waited for the signal that marked the beginning of the fight.

Anticipation weaved through my bones, rippling through the muscles that tensed, waiting for the moment—when the holler calling for the fight to begin would thunder.

I held my breath.

"Fight!"

Defiant Soul, as I expected, aggressively seized the first move. He took the moment to activate a camouflaging effect that put him out of sight before launching towards me with a series of attacks.

This was well within expectations. Defiant Soul's ability was light, a sub-element of fire, and was therefore subjected under the dragon Balasea's domain—so it afforded him an element that allowed a manipulation of sight.

This must take a lot of control. From certain perspectives, he would, at most, be a blurry figure. But from my line of sight, he was actually near-invisible. There was a slight distortion of space when he moved, which meant I would be able to spot him if I looked hard enough—but countering attacks nearly blind would be a feat in itself.

I gritted my teeth. The best thing to do now was to defend. Thankfully, I learned a lot of defensive maneuvers from Elion, not to mention the technique book that Mistress Veronika had given to me.

I put up my arms when I saw the vague silhouette throwing a punch my way. I felt the impact—a fist striking at my arms with a strength enough to numb the area.

I pictured his possible position in my head and threw a counterattack where I visualized there would be an opening. And, surprisingly enough, I felt my fist come into contact with a ribcage.

There was a wheeze before my opponent hastily retreated, his camouflaging technique wavered like a glitch.

"How?" he asked me.

I kept my mouth shut. The less I yap, the less he knew. With that, it meant more leverage, less disadvantage.

Seeing as he would not get an answer from me directly, the best course of action for him would be to find out for himself—and he did so. He once again reactivated his camouflaging skill, turning nearly invisible before jumping at me with a new attack.

This time, he swung his feet.

I pulled in when I felt the impact, then made adjustments to my position to accommodate it and lessen the injury I would receive. After that, I grasped at the leg that had hit me and twisted it, pulling my opponent down so that I tackled him.

"You're way too dependent on this invisibility. It won't cover up bad technique—even if I can't see you."

The narrative would be different, however, if he could completely perfect his concealment. I reckon this guy would be toughest in the night, when there would be little light to manipulate.

If he could perfectly execute a good performance in combat too, he would be formidable.

However, for now, there were many things lacking in him. I hadn't been learning for very long, but he was far worse than me in terms of ability.

I couldn't help but give him some leeway though. Finding a way to integrate one's element through combat was not something easy to do. Not to mention, considering he'd gotten this far was a testament to his talents. It was daring, in fact. Most people considered their element as something to supplement their combat prowess, but battles could otherwise be tided through by just the fist alone—or weapons, if it got that far. Elements took a lot of energy and were rather explosive in nature, so many warriors would consider it a card to pull out when they could no longer neutralize the enemy.

Of course, for some people, especially in the case of some elements, there was a different ideology. People like Defiant Soul would find a way to make their element indispensable to their fighting style. Doing so meant they could make up for a lack of proficiency and knowledge in terms of style, but it also meant they would be severely crippled during the times when their element could not be used.

It was risky business.

At least, I thought as much—having read through that library in the Temple with regard to techniques and principles about martial arts and whatnot. I suppose my laborious efforts in studying were bearing fruit.

Knowledge made me feel secure and confident, I realized. So long as I had it, I wouldn't have to worry about being unable to use my element.

"Your Deliverer is Vagun," Defiant Soul said under me. I continued to restrain him, even as I got lost in my thoughts. "I heard."

I looked at him questioningly under my lion mask. For what particular reason was he bringing up my cover element?

"It makes sense that you know," he rationalized.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes—feeling somewhat insulted that my hard work was being attributed to an ability. But that was fine. I could make use of this misunderstanding later on for my benefit. It wasn't like I could do the contrary and tell the truth that Vagun was not actually my Deliverer. The pandemonium that would occur upon the discovery of someone who had the blessing of death...well, I wouldn't want to be around for that.

And I should stop thinking too much.

I moved in aggressively to knock him out, but did not expect him to break out of my hold. And with me unable to see him clearly, I did not expect the knuckles that jabbed at my solar plexus.

I was breathless next second.

A moment of carelessness, and now my opponent climbed on top of me and tackled me in a position that restricted my movements and suffocated me. He straddled my waist straightforwardly, pinning me down, and then grasping my throat.

Being restrained in such a manner was not the best experience, to say the least. I racked my mind for a way to break out of the hold. I wanted to look at the monk referee overseeing this fight, but my line of sight was blocked by the vague silhouette of Defiant Soul before me. I knew the monk would come over soon if we remained in this hold for long. If I couldn't find a way to break out of this hold, then it would be my loss.

Though Defiant Soul had weak technique, his strength and physique far exceeded mine. He could honestly tide through this battle through brute force. For those predisposed advantages, I could do nothing about.

"Surrender," he said.

I smiled underneath my mask.

I then reached out where I thought his nipples would be and twisted.

He freaked. "Gaaaahhh!"

"You made me play dirty," I hoarsely told him. "Don't blame me for this later."

Unable to bear with the pain of his nipples twisted, he looked at me—I could tell he was infuriated even without seeing his face directly. However, while his hold somewhat loosened, he did not allow me to break free.

"Let go!"

He continued pressing down on my throat.

Though my face was turning blue, I put some more pressure on this attack.

The audience was enveloped in laughter.

"Nipple twist and a choking hold! Who would win!?" the host exclaimed.

"If you don't let go, you're going to suffocate!" Defiant Soul could not help but continuously moan out in pain.

"If you...then you can say goodbye to these guys!"

"H-how did you even...Guwaaaaahhhh!"

The choking finally ceased, and I was able to find my way back to my feet. I could not help the guttural chuckle that rolled in my liberated throat. This was the power of inequality. If he tried to do that to me, I was pretty sure a lot of people would come after him. But, from the biased perspective of mankind, this was only kind of funny.

Not that anyone knew I was a girl. Maybe.

"How did you even find it when you can't see it!" he exclaimed.

Right. He was half-invisible.

I threw a halfhearted answer. "I have a built-in nipple detector," I replied.

"That's harassment!" he exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the smile that pulled on my lips. "Feel free to complain to pervert patrol then," I said. "Unless you'd like to retaliate and return the favor," I added.

He stilled, visibly hesitating. My voice wasn't particularly high-pitched, but it was feminine enough for him to know I was the opposite gender. If I was right, he knew the consequences if he did as I offered.

"I'm not like you! I will not go so low!" he exclaimed.

"What high moral standards, I envy you. So choking someone is morally acceptable?" I sarcastically remarked.

"We're in a fight!"

"Exactly," I replied. "So, are you going to come attack or not? I won't make an effort since I can't see you. So just come over when you're done crying over being harassed."

I slipped into a stable position, waiting for him to make his move.