Maun's fight with Mushroom Soup took a while, and I zoned out unwittingly midway. Perhaps it was my anxiety about my upcoming fight interfering with my thought process, but things generally went the way I initially expected at the very least.

Only...of course, there were some surprises. I could see why Mushroom Soup managed to come this far. However, Maun was tenaciously adaptable. Though he was innocent and adorable in front of us, he unexpectedly turned bloodthirsty during his fights. I had yet to get used to this side of him.

At some point, I decided to keep my notebook away and spend the next few minutes sorting out my thoughts—meditating, more like it. I could tell the fight would be ending very soon, and then it would be my butt's turn to mop the floor.

"Suppressed until the very end! Mushroom Soup could not even get a head taller of an advantage against Silent Dragon! How domineering!"

As expected, when I opened my eyes, I saw Mushroom Soup lying on the floor calling for surrender. He trembled under Maun's intimidation and kicked his legs, trying to put a distance between himself and his opponent.

The medical team rushed forward for inspection of the candidates, and the monk called for the end of the match.

Mushroom's fear was natural. From start to finish, Maun had maintained the absolute advantage in the fight. He defended with ease and attacked with vigor. Mushroom Soup's mentality was incessantly corroded down during the fight. By the end of it all, he was convinced he had lost the fight even before it ended.

I sighed. "How monstrous," I muttered.

Half of Maun's talent! Half of Maun's skills! Even a measly tenth of his strength would be fine too! Then I would be able to wile away my hours carving and zoning out like he usually did!

I leaned on my chin and watched as the announcer declared Maun's win. I stretched my limbs, trying to ease the tension in my joints as well as straighten out the anxiety gnawing at my stomach.

I threw a gaze over my shoulder to look at my opponent.

Black Flame.

According to my estimates, my chances of winning against the guy should be at least thirty-five percent. That was already very high considering who I was up against, but I gave it a plus or minus five percent difference for accuracy since I had only seen him fight once—and that fight against Eren didn't last long enough, nor did it bring out a lot of what he could do.

Against a challenging opponent like Maun, he would be forced to reveal a lot of cards. When he fought Eren, he did not show his true capabilities. In fact, I suspected he only used a portion of his strength.

I researched the Gayden family during my free time and learned a lot about their exclusive technique through some information channels. I took the information with a grain of salt as I doubted their accuracy, but after cross-referencing facts, I came upon some consistent details that matched as well as supplemented my observations.

The Gaydens took pride in their legwork, as I had already previously observed. Their style was very much like Taekwondo. As for its name, it also was very uncreative—il Huell Gayden. Roughly, it was translated to Gayden Moves, or Gayden Style.

Like I said, uninspired.

Anyhow, this particular system of martial arts was deadly and had a very straightforward offense. Its pitfall would perhaps lie in its defense, which I could take advantage of later if the chance could present itself.

As Maun's victory was finalized, the crazed cheers of the audience reverberated once more. I could already imagine what sort of impression this guy had left on everyone already. With Maun's win, he had already clinched a spot in the Top Five. He had already consolidated his position as disciple.

I looked up in the direction of the supervising monks and saw that they were all nodding in appreciation.

"Gahhh! How monstrous!" Mushroom Soup tore out and threw down the frayed sleeves of his costume to the floor. If it was allowed, he would have probably thrown his mushroom head mask down too. "Whatever! I haven't lost yet!"

He stomped away as Maun descended from the stage after him. The completely ferocious tiger had returned to being a blueberry muffin. Maun approached me with a spring in every step. I could tell he would be looking for some encouragement.

"You've done well," I blurted. "See? The people are cheering very loudly for you! From this win, you definitely already made it in the Top Five, even if you lose your next fight."

"Then you must win too," Maun told me. "If I end up by myself, I won't go."

"Don't be so unreasonable," I said, pinching his arm.

He moaned in pain and cowered away from my hand.

I smiled under my mask, then withdrew from teasing him and assumed a more serious disposition. "Anyhow, it's almost my turn to fight. Let's talk about this later."

"Good luck! Please win! If not, I'll beat him up for you!" he told me with a determined face.

"Don't be too cocky. You might just meet your match!" I said. "And in case I come out as the winner here...you'll be fighting me."

He stood blankly in place, realizing what the situation entailed.

"That's okay. I can lose once," he signed righteously.

"Shut it. I wouldn't like it if you purposely lose. I'll be very angry."

He paused. The energetic signing clamped up to a halt. I couldn't see his face under the mask, but I could imagine he was making that expression where he looked wronged.

"Go on, Maun. Check on Eren for me. Mistress Veronika came in a while ago."

"I want to stay," he signed.

"Suit yourself."

If he couldn't put Black Flame in his place, it would be Maun suffering. There was not much loss in it either way should he win for me or not. At the very least, he would learn a few things. I was a little worried about our little genius becoming a little too unbridled if his road remained too smooth-sailing.

But if he was such a genius that he could even win against the scion of a rich and powerful family...then, okay. Touché, I guess.

I stood by the arena looking over the mess there was. Considering Mushroom Soup's water-wielding earlier, he'd somewhat flooded the place. The arena was all muddy and slippery. I wasn't sure if the monks would be cleaning it up.

However, when they immediately called us up without bothering to do anything...I realized they didn't care. How come some holes were filled earlier? And now we didn't get the same treatment? Now those holes were filled with water!

Then again...Black Flame's element was fire.

Aha! Ahahahaha! That's actually fine! Don't clean it up!

Since I was wearing a mask, I did not bother to hide the grin on my face.

This must be god's plan.

"And now for the final match of the day!" the announcer's voice resounded.

I tensed up and could not help but look over to my right. Black Flame in his costume looked over to me as well. I could somehow recall the gaze that he threw at me during the selection, and I felt a shudder down my spine. It was not of fear—but anticipation. Coldness pooled at the bottom of my stomach and I grew stiff from the tension. My muscles bunched up as my hackles rose.

I did not put my previous matches much in my eyes compared to this one.

"Black Flame against Lionheart!"

The cheers that resounded were just as wild as Maun's against Mushroom Soup.

"We all look forward to this! This match is between our top two, against our top three!"

My head buzzed at the announcer's statement. What did he mean by top two against top three? Did that mean I ranked third in the whole evaluation rounds?

I felt a burst of pride, which I hastily suppressed. I didn't want to get too full of it lest I got carried away. From memory, I only ever heard about the top one and the top two—which were Silent Dragon and Black Flame, respectively. They had not disclosed the rest of the rankings...or did they? Was there any way to check, if so?

After shaking myself out of being stunned, I entered the arena as per the overseeing monk's guidance. I then faced Black Flame and got into a stance I was comfortable with, eyeing my opponent closely as he sank into a position himself. I didn't want to over-analyze his actions and instead focused on clearing my head. This guy was deadly fast—he hadn't gone all out last time, and his reaction time was already ridiculous. He was fast enough that my neurons would be firing slower than him. It was all up to muscle memory now.

"I've been looking forward to facing you," he said.

"Really? I wasn't," I replied.

He paused, perhaps surprised. "It didn't seem that way."

"I'll shed all pretenses, then," I told him. "I haven't been training very long, so I'll appreciate it if you go easy on me."

"It doesn't seem that way to me," he said. "I know a newbie when I see one. I would really prefer it you shed all pretenses like you said."

"I said the truth, but that doesn't matter. It'll all be clear within moments from now."

We waited for the cue to begin. Soon enough, the announcer's voice rang throughout the arena. "Start!"

Neither one of us came forward to initiate. I raised a brow. To be quite honest, I did not want to come forward. I would prefer it if he took the first blow. Mistress Veronika had always reiterated how important it was to seize control of the rhythm of the game, but I knew my experience was on the lacking side. If I carelessly stepped in without a clear gauge of my opponent's abilities, I would simply be looking for death.

That being said, I would rather remain in defense for now and find an opportunity to get a strike in later. I could not be so carefree like Maun or as aggressive as Eren. Those were not my style.

I waited. And waited.

"What is up with this tense silence?!" the announcer exclaimed, realizing the oddity. "Well, this is a first! Let's make a bet on who makes the first move!"

I made sure to remain calm but vigilant. I wouldn't want this guy to be playing mind games with me, after all.

Finally, he moved.

He crossed the distance between the two of us, his figure a blur in space. I clenched my jaw and tensed up, but moved fast enough to block the strike that came zooming my way. I felt the sharp impact of his strong calves striking against my forearms. His heels were pointed at my forehead and he continued to exert pressure on me in this position.

"Black Flame takes the first strike!"

He would not maintain this position too long. He was taunting me to reply.

Since he was asking for it...I smoothly redirected the pressure from his foot, turning my body sideways as I threw a roundhouse kick myself. My foot was aimed at his side, which was open. However, following the shift to our positions, he covered up this hole in his defense and caught my leg. He seized me by the ankle, forcing me to stretch to a split midair.

Thankfully, Mistress Kora had trained my flexibility. That didn't mean I was comfortable in this position, though. Throwing a punch would be a reasonable move, but he'd forced me to a position that did not allow much maneuverability. If I threw a punch, I'd be clawing my way into his trap.

"So, what now?" he asked.

I gritted my teeth.