The last figure from Gloria Academy finally moved. The person in the heavy black coat slowly walked onto the platform.
The coat covered everything about the person: the face, body, even the shape of the shoulders.
No clear aura leaked out.
To most of the audience, it simply looked like a carefully hidden student.
Gray watched with the same bored expression he had worn through most of the matches. His arms stayed loose at his sides.
He was already prepared to end this one as quickly as the others.
But just as the distance closed.
Gray’s eyes suddenly turned cold.
’...Peak Saint Realm?’
[...This... Gray... you...]
’...Jasmine?’
A sudden wave of wind swept across the platform.
Swoop...
The hood of the black coat was caught by the wind and pulled back in one clean motion.
Gray’s heart froze.
Long hair fell free, mostly light brown, but now mixed with clear blonde strands that caught the light.
The golden locks from before were gone, replaced by this quieter half-blonde color.
Emerald green eyes looked straight at him, the same beautiful shade he remembered so well. Her face was unchanged.
Her body was still the same elegant shape, the full curves of her chest carefully bound down by tight bandages so they would not draw attention under the coat.
Gray would be able to recognize this figure even if she had completely hidden herself.
It was Lyra...
His girlfriend.
The one who had left to train in a distant sect.
"Lyra...?"
Lyra looked at him with cold eyes.
There was no warmth in her gaze, no soft smile, no sign of the girl who used to cling to his arm.
She reached to her side and slowly pulled a long weapon free from under the black coat.
It was not the sword she used to carry.
An exquisite spear appeared in her hands.
The shaft was dark with faint golden patterns running along its length.
The spearhead shone with a sharp, clear light that made the air around it feel heavier. The grade of the weapon was impossible to hide from anyone with real perception.
’Monarch-grade weapon?!’
Gray’s eyes widened for a short moment.
Lyra spun the spear once, then settled into a ready fighting stance.
"Let’s fight, Gray."
Her voice was cold and flat.
In the next instant, she disappeared from her position and reappeared right in front of him. The spear thrust forward in a straight, powerful line aimed at his stomach.
"....Mhm..."
SLAAAM!
The spearhead struck solidly against Gray’s midsection.
The force of the blow traveled through his body and cracked the stone under his feet, yet he did not step back.
He simply took the hit, arms still hanging loosely at his sides, and looked at her without raising a guard.
Lyra’s eyes narrowed.
She pulled the spear back and immediately swung it in a wide horizontal arc toward his ribs. Gray turned his body only slightly.
The shaft of the spear slammed into his side with a heavy thud. Pain flared along his ribs, but he still did not move to block or counter.
A third attack came at once. a rising thrust aimed under his chin.
Gray tilted his head a little bit.
The spearhead passed close enough to cut a thin line across his cheek. Blood welled up and ran down his face.
He did not wipe it away.
Lyra’s expression grew colder.
She stepped in closer and began a continuous series of attacks.
Gray took them one after another.
A thrust hit his left shoulder and forced him to shift his weight.
A heavy sweep caught his thigh and left a deep bruise under the cloth.
A downward strike landed on his raised forearm when he finally lifted it just enough to keep the spearhead from cutting into his neck.
The impact still drove him down onto one knee for a moment.
He stood up again without attacking.
Lyra’s breathing stayed steady, but anger began to show in her eyes.
"Why aren’t you fighting back?"
She spun the spear and drove the butt end into his stomach. The blow folded him slightly forward.
THUMP!
Before he could straighten, she followed with a sharp thrust that scraped across his collarbone and left another thin line of blood.
"Fight me, Gray!"
Her voice rose for the first time.
The cold tone cracked under real fury.
She jumped back a short distance, then shot forward again with even greater speed.
The spear became a blur of dark shaft and shining tip. High thrusts, low sweeps, diagonal cuts, and sudden short stabs all came in a relentless chain.
The platform shook under the force of several of the heavier strikes.
Gray continued to receive them.
He moved only the minimum needed to keep the attacks from becoming lethal. A small turn of the shoulder.
A slight shift of the hip.
A late block with his forearm that still left him open to the next hit.
Each time the spear landed, the sound of impact echoed across the quiet arena. New bruises and shallow cuts appeared on his arms, chest, and legs.
Lyra’s face grew tighter with every unanswered exchange.
"Is this what I am to you now? Someone you refuse to take seriously?"
She planted her feet and poured more strength into the next thrust.
The spearhead glowed brighter.
The attack carried enough force to push Gray backward several steps when it struck his abdomen.
He slid across the cracked stone, boots leaving shallow grooves, yet he still did not raise his own weapon or use any technique.
In the stands, the confusion had been growing since the first unanswered blow.
Students leaned forward, talking in low, puzzled voices.
"Why is he just taking the hits?"
"He’s not even defending properly."
"Is he holding back on purpose?"
Then a single voice rose clearly from the middle of the crowd.
"Wasn’t Lyra dating Gray back at Gloria Academy?"
The words spread like fire.
In only a few seconds, the entire arena understood. Conversations broke out across every section of the stands.
"They’re a couple?"
"That’s why he won’t attack her!"
"He’s letting her hit him because he doesn’t want to fight his own girlfriend!"
The realization changed the atmosphere at once.
What had looked like a one-sided beating now carried a different meaning. Many students watched with complicated expressions.
Some looked sympathetic. Others simply stared, unsure how to react to the personal conflict playing out on the stage.
Lyra heard none of it, or if she did, she ignored it completely.
She advanced again, spear moving in faster and heavier patterns. A rising cut opened a longer wound along Gray’s upper arm.
A powerful sweep forced him to drop to one knee once more.
A direct thrust to the chest knocked the breath from his lungs and left him standing only because he refused to fall.
"Fight back!" she shouted; the cold mask was fully broken now.
"Stop treating me like I’m fragile! Stop standing there and taking everything!"
Gray raised his eyes to meet hers.
Drip...
Blood ran from the cut on his cheek and from several other places
"...I’ve missed you, Lyra."
Gray mumbled slightly.
Lyra’s attack froze at those words... her spear trembled before it could attack Gray again. Her whole body was literally shaking.
The tip of the Monarch-grade spear stopped only a few centimeters from his chest.
The golden patterns along the shaft flickered unevenly as her mana wavered.
For a long moment, she stood completely still, emerald eyes locked on his face; the cold mask she had worn since removing the hood dissipated away.
Her lips parted, but no words came out at first.
The spear in her hands continued to tremble.
"Aah... hwa..."
A faint sound escaped her throat, something between a breath and a suppressed sob.
The killing intent that had surrounded her only seconds earlier collapsed all at once, leaving only the heavy silence of the arena and the quiet drip of Gray’s blood onto the cracked stone.
Lyra’s fingers tightened and loosened around the spear shaft.
Her shoulders shook once, then again.
The blonde strands mixed into her light-brown hair fell across her face as she lowered her head slightly, trying to hide whatever expression was forming there.
Then she moved.
The spear dropped from her hands and clattered against the cracked stone. In the same motion, she stepped forward and drove her fist straight into Gray’s chest.
Thud!
"You... damn bastard...!"
Her voice cracked. Her eyes reddened instantly, the cold emerald color turning glassy with unshed tears.
"How dare you say those words!?"
She punched him again, harder this time.
Thud!
Then again.
Thud! Thud!
Her fists kept striking the same place on his chest, one after another. Each hit landed solidly, but there was no killing intent left in them.
It was closer to a child’s tantrum than a real attack.
Her shoulders shook with every punch. Tears finally spilled over and ran down her cheeks, dripping onto the front of her coat.
She kept hitting him, but Gray made no move to dodge, letting her hit him all she wanted.
Chapter 406: Inter-Academy Tournament (XLXVIII)
7 min read