"Forfeit? What the hell does she mean by that? What does she take me for?" Julien wondered.
Now he questioned whether he should've listened. The student before him was clearly possessed: veins protruding across his skin, eyes bleeding crimson, saliva dripping as he groaned in what sounded like torment and horror.
The sound of cracking knuckles, sweat gleaming on his chest, and the suffocating presence of malicious intent saturated the arena. Even the deformed could have spotted him instantly. His malice was plain for everyone to see.
Even so, uncertainty gnawed at Julien.
He'd manifested his usual weapon—a blood spear with an oversized blade, perfect for his style. But the pointed stares from above, from Scar and especially Purple, forced him to reconsider.
Externally, he'd always been the silent, composed member of their group. Hell, some people questioned whether he could speak at all. But with the right people, he was excellent company.
Now Purple's order to forfeit replayed in his mind. Based on how everyone perceived him, he should have complied ages ago.
But…
"I'm sorry, Purple. If I run from battles like these, I'll never become stronger." Julien muttered and assumed his stance.
For Purple to show that much concern meant this transcended a mere duel.
Obviously, this person was under V's influence, the Zheng clan's notorious prodigy. The possessed boy wouldn't stop fighting until he tasted victory, and once he did, he'd feast on Julien's corpse.
But as someone who intended to kill a being as powerful as Quagmire, Clown of the Living, he couldn't afford to lose or forfeit any battle.
"Fight!"
As soon as the referee began the match, the possessed boy's dominant hand, his left, pulled him down slightly, as though bearing steel heavier than he could support.
Next, he charged toward Julien like a madman.
"Don't fight! Don't fight, Julien! Don't be naive!" Purple yelled through the crowd.
Julien heard her perfectly, but just this once, he was going to defy his master.
Julien recalled Arthur Rover's training. His muscles were still sore from their intense training session hours ago, so with controlled breathing, he prepared to use the technique most fitting for the situation.
The Enforcement technique.
His grasp of this technique was limited, but desperation demanded action. He channeled the Scarlet Moon's Blessing throughout his body, focusing primarily on his tired, aching muscles to enhance endurance rather than strength or stamina.
When the change finally coursed through him, he met the charging lunatic head-on.
For a moment, Julien flinched.
The possessed student blocked it with his naked hand. The blow sent him skidding back, blood pouring from his palm, but he remained unfazed. He looked utterly unconscious, moving in some primal state beyond awareness of the wound.
"Tsk. Can't you at least pretend that hurt? That's the best attack I can pull off for now. The least you could do." Julien sighed.
Julien sprinted at his opponent, spear blade trailing across the compacted sand. If audible, the contact would have sounded horrifying, like a predator concealed in darkness, poised to exploit any opening.
His cockiness instantly transformed into panic and confusion.
Before Julien could advance, dark liquid, viscous and slick, seeped from the possessed student's hands. He launched it at Julien, who sidestepped frantically to evade the substance.
His jaw clenched tight as he watched the substance eat through the sand. Julien drew the fresh blood from the ground, using it to reinforce and strengthen his blade.
"He's using acid. Getting close will kill me, and with his possession, he'll chase me endlessly. I can't rely on any weapon but a spear, the others won't hold." Julien sneered.
True enough, the possessed guy's body looked even more grotesquely enhanced. His eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets, veins protruding impossibly across his skin, and teeth grinding so violently against each other that some were already cracking and breaking.
Worse still, Julien was forced to strike from range, maintaining distance from his opponent while evading the corrosive projectiles.
In the stands, Scar sat hunched, elbow on his thigh, fist supporting his chin. The fight was interesting enough, and he understood Julien's predicament perfectly. Purple's explanation had been clear.
But he was still drowsy, the fatigue from their training was taking its toll. He could barely keep his eyes open, so all he could do was hope Julien would be okay.
"He's stubborn. I can see he's relying on Enforcement, but that doesn't make this any better. This fight risks pulling us into uncharted territory, and his choices are running out." Purple sat on Scar's left, worrying her fingers between her teeth as though Julien's fate actually mattered to her.
Since Julien had committed to this battle, only killing his opponent would save him. If the possessed fighter won, he'd cannibalize Julien on the spot, like some grotesque feast. The possessed didn't know how to lose anymore.
When the possessions first started, stronger opponents could overcome the afflicted. Even in defeat, though, they'd throw violent tantrums and try to kill themselves. Now, only death would stop them from fighting.
Suddenly…
All fatigue fled from Scar in an instant. His chest constricted, and he shot upright, eyes widening in horror.
"Forfeit, Julien! Just withdraw!" This time, Purple wasn't alone, nearly the entire crowd was yelling the same thing.
Julien still wouldn't back down. Stubbornness drove him forward, but it couldn't mask the terror running through his bones.
Ancient red runes and sigils materialized on his opponent's body, which now radiated a crushing, malevolent aura. Though his eyes remained vacant and unconscious, his posture was straightened with disturbing confidence.
His hands had warped into serpentine appendages covered in chitinous plating, the serpentine's legs moving with an otherworldly fluidity, something never meant to walk this earth.
Julien looked at the referee, who appeared just as terrified but couldn't call off the duel. He lacked the authority, and those who possessed it would never step in. Akumas' lives didn't matter to them.
When Julien realized there was no hope, he began trembling violently.
"E—emotional State? But how?"