**Unknown (Riyan) vs Noha Kai**
The arena floor had been repaired between matches, fresh stone replacing the craters and scorch marks left by previous battles. I stood at one entrance, spear held loosely in my right hand, mask still firmly in place. The weight of thousands of eyes pressed against me, but I'd grown accustomed to scrutiny these past months.
Across the battlefield, Noha Kai bounced on the balls of her feet, barely able to contain her excitement.
She was shorter than I'd expected—maybe five-foot-six—with a compact, athletic build that spoke of countless training hours. Her brown hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, and those brown eyes gleamed with an intensity that made my instincts scream warnings. Several scars decorated her exposed arms, each one probably representing a lesson learned through pain.
But it was her smile that unsettled me most. Not malicious, not cruel—just *eager*. Like a child about to unwrap a present they'd been waiting months to receive.
"Finally!" Her voice carried across the arena, high and excited. "Everyone else was so *boring*! But you—you took down the Asura Princess like it was nothing! This is gonna be AMAZING!"
She stretched, rolling her shoulders and cracking her knuckles with audible pops. "No hard feelings when I break a few of your bones, okay? It's all in good fun!"
*Battle maniac,* I thought, though not without a trace of respect. There was something almost pure about Noha's approach to combat—no politics, no hidden agendas, just the simple joy of testing herself against strong opponents.
Which meant she'd come at me with absolutely everything she had, holding nothing back.
"Combatants ready?" The referee's voice cut through the ambient noise.
I settled into my stance, spear angling toward Noha. My breathing steadied, and I felt the familiar calm settle over me—the mental state where thought and action merged into pure reaction.
Noha dropped into a fighting stance that looked deceptively casual, weight balanced perfectly between her feet. Her aura flickered visible for a moment—red tinged with orange, like embers waiting to become flame.
"BEGIN!"
---
Noha didn't waste time testing the waters. She *exploded* forward, the stone beneath her feet cracking from the force of her launch. In three heartbeats, she'd closed thirty meters, her fist already driving toward my center mass with enough force to crack ribs.
I pivoted, letting her momentum carry her past while my spear's shaft blocked the follow-up elbow strike. The impact sent vibrations up my arms—she was *strong*, far stronger than her size suggested.
She spun with the redirection, leg sweeping low to take out my stance. I jumped, spear tip descending toward her shoulder in a counter-thrust.
She caught my spear shaft with both hands mid-strike, grinning up at me. "Nice try!"
Then she *yanked*, using my own weapon as leverage to pull herself upward while simultaneously kicking at my exposed ribs.
I released the spear, letting her momentum work against her, and caught her kick with my forearm. The impact still hurt—blocking wasn't the same as negating force—but it gave me the opening I needed to channel aura into my palm and strike her center mass.
She flew backward, tucking into a roll that bled off momentum, and came up laughing. "Oooh, you're GOOD! This is exactly what I wanted!"
My spear returned to my hand—a neat trick courtesy of the weapon's enchantments—and I reassessed. Noha's Martial Prodigy talent wasn't just about learning techniques quickly. It was about *adaptation*. Every exchange taught her something about my patterns, my timing, my preferred angles of attack.
The longer this fight went, the more dangerous she'd become.
"Martial Sovereign Art—Third Technique: Crushing Tide!"
She came at me again, but this time her attacks flowed together seamlessly. Each strike set up the next, creating a rhythm that was almost musical in its precision. Punches, elbows, knees, kicks—all flowing into a continuous assault that gave me no breathing room.
I defended, my spear becoming a whirlwind of interceptions and redirections. "Dark Spirit Spear Art—Defensive Sequence: Shadow Veil!"
My spear blurred, the technique creating multiple afterimages that made predicting the true position nearly impossible. Each of Noha's strikes met resistance, her attacks deflected by fractions of inches that accumulated into complete defensive coverage.
But I could feel the strain. She wasn't letting up, wasn't giving me space to counter-attack. This was her strategy—overwhelming pressure until my defense cracked.
*Can't keep this up indefinitely. Need to break her rhythm.*
"Martial Sovereign Art—Seventh Technique: Endless Percussion!"
Her attacks *accelerated*. What had been fast became blindingly quick, each strike coming from angles that shouldn't have been physically possible. Her body twisted and flowed like water, Martial Prodigy talent allowing her to execute techniques on the fly that would take normal fighters years to master.
One punch slipped through my guard, catching me in the shoulder. Then another to my ribs. A kick that I barely avoided taking full-force to my knee.
The crowd was going wild, the sheer speed and complexity of our exchange pushing the limits of what most spectators could even track.
I needed to change the game.
"Dark Spirit Spear Art—Second Form: Mischief of the Devil!"
Darkness coalesced around my spear, and I stopped defending. Instead, I attacked—not at Noha, but at the *space* around her. My spear created zones of shadow that disrupted perception, making distance and depth difficult to judge.
Noha's next strike missed by a hair's breadth, her eyes widening in surprise. "Ooh, tricky!"
But that surprise transformed into delight. Her smile widened, and I realized with sinking certainty that I'd just made the fight more interesting for her.
Which meant she was about to get serious.
---
**Noha's Perspective**
*This is PERFECT!*
Every cell in my body sang with joy. This—*this*—was what combat was supposed to be! Not the boring technical exercises instructors insisted on. Not the predetermined sparring matches where everyone held back. This was *real*, two fighters pushing each other to their absolute limits with no safety net.
Unknown's technique was fascinating. Those shadows didn't just obscure—they *confused*. My depth perception kept betraying me, making attacks miss by millimeters when they should have connected solidly.
But I could adapt. I always adapted.
I closed my eyes.
Sound. Air pressure. The subtle vibrations in the arena floor. Heat signatures. My Martial Prodigy talent didn't just help me learn techniques—it helped me perceive combat through multiple sensory channels simultaneously.
I didn't need to see him. I could *feel* where he was.
My next strike connected, catching his spear shaft hard enough to send visible shockwaves through the weapon. His counter came immediately, but I was already moving, my body flowing around the attack like water around stone.
"Martial Sovereign Art—Tenth Technique: Heaven's Drum!"
I abandoned complex combinations for pure, overwhelming force. Each strike carried my full power, aura-enhanced blows that created sonic booms when they cut through air. The technique was exhausting, burning through stamina at an alarming rate, but the payoff was devastating.
Unknown's shadows couldn't hide the sheer force of my attacks. He blocked the first strike, deflected the second, but the third drove him back three steps.
I pressed forward, grinning so wide my face hurt. "Come on! Show me what you've REALLY got!"
---
**Riyan's POV**
*Shit. She's escalating.*
Noha had abandoned all pretense of technical finesse. Now she was just *hitting*—full power, maximum output, burning through her reserves like tomorrow didn't exist.
And it was working. Each blocked strike left my arms numb. Each near-miss sent stone fragments flying from impact craters. She was turning the entire arena into a demolition zone, and I was rapidly running out of space to maneuver.
Her face had transformed during the fight. What started as eager excitement had become something else—something almost transcendent. Her eyes gleamed with manic joy, her smile twisted into something that bordered on terrifying.
*Her true nature as a battle freak is awakening.*
This wasn't just someone who enjoyed combat. This was someone who *lived* for it, who found meaning and purpose in the crucible of battle. Winning or losing didn't matter to her—only the fight itself, the pure expression of skill and will.
Which meant she'd keep pushing until one of us physically couldn't continue.
Fine. If she wanted to see my real strength, I'd oblige.
"Raging Fire Spear Art—Ninth Form: Volcanic Wave!"
I planted my spear into the arena floor and channeled everything—all my mana, all my fire affinity, all the accumulated training of these past months—into a single catastrophic technique.
The spear became the epicenter of an eruption. Fire exploded outward in a dome that turned the entire battlefield into an inferno. The heat was intense enough to make the air shimmer, flames roaring with enough force to drown out the crowd's screams.
Through the fire, I could see Noha's silhouette. She wasn't retreating. Of course she wasn't retreating.
She was charging straight through the flames.
"Martial Sovereign Art—Twelfth Technique: Titan's Fist!"
Her aura flared, creating a protective shell that let her push through my attack. Her fist, wreathed in concentrated energy, drove forward with enough power to split mountains.
Our techniques collided.
The resulting explosion sent shockwaves rippling across the Colosseum, cracking protective barriers and forcing spectators to shield their eyes. Fire and force warred against each other, neither giving ground, both fighters pouring everything into this final exchange.
For three heartbeats, we were perfectly matched.
Then my technique overwhelmed hers.
The wave of fire consumed her protective aura, and Noha's form disappeared into the inferno. When the flames finally dissipated, she was on her knees, clothes singed, steam rising from her body.
But she was smiling. Even now, battered and exhausted, she was *smiling*.
"That... was... *awesome*..." She swayed once, then collapsed face-first onto the arena floor, unconscious.
Silence filled the Colosseum for one long moment.
Then the referee's voice rang out: "Winner: Unknown!"
The crowd erupted.
---
Medical staff rushed onto the field immediately, checking Noha's condition. I could see her breathing steadily—exhausted and burned, but not seriously injured. She'd probably wake up disappointed that the fight ended so quickly.
I retrieved my spear, every muscle in my body screaming protest. That final technique had taken more out of me than I'd expected. My reserves were depleted, my arms felt like lead, and I was pretty sure I'd cracked at least one rib blocking her attacks.
But I'd won. And more importantly, I'd proven something—not to the crowd, but to myself.
I could compete at this level. Against the main cast, against destiny's chosen, against fighters whose entire existence was dedicated to combat.
From the viewing area, I could feel Raven's eyes on me. Golden and assessing, calculating what she'd just witnessed.
Tomorrow, we'd face each other in the finals.
Tomorrow, I'd have to fight someone who'd been holding back against everyone else.
Tomorrow, I'd reveal my identity and cement my place at the top of this year's rankings.
But tonight? Tonight I needed medical attention and about twelve hours of sleep.
As I walked off the battlefield, the crowd's cheers washing over me, I caught sight of Livia in the stands. Even from this distance, I could see the pride and possessive satisfaction in her expression.
And somewhere in the crowd, probably hidden among the masses, Syra was watching too.
*One fight left,* I thought. *One more battle, then the real game begins.*
The Academy Entrance Exam was almost over.
But my war against destiny was only just beginning.
---
**Final Match Announcement:**
**Championship Round:**
Raven Zeus vs Unknown (Riyan)
The battle for first place. The clash between anti-villainess and villain. Daughter of the Principal versus the mysterious newcomer who'd dominated every match.
The entire continent would be watching.