Seeing Rudra remain silent, Rohan smirked with growing confidence. In his mind, Rudra's silence wasn't calm—it was fear.
After all, he wasn't the same Rohan anymore.
"What happened, little prodigy? Scared?" Rohan sneered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Hahaha!"
The canteen tensed again, but Rudra didn't react. He stood still, tray in hand, his eyes fixed on Rohan—not with fear, but with a quiet, deadly focus. The kind of look a predator gives its prey before the strike.
But Rohan either couldn't see it—or chose not to.
Whether it was blind arrogance, newfound power, or someone else backing him, no one could say. All they knew was one simple truth, etched into everyone's memory:
If you mess with Rudra Singh, your day ends on a hospital bed.
That was no rumour. That was a warning built from bruises, fractures, and shattered pride.
Yet Rohan laughed.
Rudra's silence remained unbroken, but inside, a quiet fire was building. Not the fire of anger—but of absolute certainty.
This won't end well for you, Rohan.
"Hahaha! You're scared, aren't you?" Rohan roared, spreading his arms as if to bask in invisible applause. "After all, … I've already crossed the threshold of a Quasi-Warrior! Hahaha!"
Gasps spread through the canteen like wildfire.
So that's what it was.
No wonder Rohan had returned with such arrogance. Reaching the level of a Quasi-Warrior wasn't easy—only a few students in the entire gym had achieved that milestone. It was a symbol of potential, of talent finally breaking through the average.
But with that realization came tension.
Because even a Quasi-Warrior, when foolish, could bleed.
And Rohan had just poked a sleeping beast.
Rohan's expression twisted with hate and pride. "Rudra, I still remember the day you humiliated me in front of everyone. Do you think I forgot? Today… I challenge you to a duel!" he shouted, pointing at Rudra. "Do you dare… or not?"
A murmur rolled through the onlookers. All eyes turned to Rudra.
He stood there, completely unfazed, as if Rohan's announcement didn't even register as a threat.
Then, finally, he moved.
Rudra slowly set down his tray on the nearest table, turned his head toward Rohan, and said with a calm, almost bored tone:
"Huh… So that's what all the noise was about."
He took a step forward.
"If you wish to be defeated again, then fine."
Another step.
"I accept your challenge."
The air felt heavier now. A storm was brewing, and everyone could feel it.
But only one person smiled.
Rudra.
"What's happening here?"
The voice boomed through the canteen like thunder—deep, commanding, and heavy with authority.
Everyone turned their heads toward the source.
There, standing at the entrance, was Instructor Hameed Khan—a towering figure with arms like iron pillars and a gaze sharp enough to cut steel. His reputation alone was enough to silence even the most arrogant of trainees. Strict, ruthless, and respected, he was the kind of man no one dared to cross.
Even Rohan's confident smirk faltered for a brief moment.
"Instructor," Rohan quickly stepped forward, straightening his back. His voice, which moments ago carried arrogance, now held forced politeness. "I... I want to challenge Rudra to a formal duel. He's already accepted. We were just heading to the fighting arena."
Instructor Hameed's eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze swept across the gathered students, then landed on Rudra.
Rudra stood motionless, his expression calm as still water—composed, unreadable.
The instructor stared at him for a moment, as if searching for something. Then he gave a curt nod.
"Very well. A formal challenge has been made and accepted," he said, his voice low but firm. "The duel will take place in the main training arena. Everyone—clear the canteen and head there. I'll supervise this myself."
The crowd stirred. Whispers broke out again, this time charged with excitement and nervous energy. A duel under Instructor Hameed's watch wasn't just a spar—it was a test of pride, strength, and reputation.
And this one was personal.
Rohan turned and walked with exaggerated confidence, leading the way. Rudra followed, silent and focused.
Soon, everyone had gathered around the Fighting Arena. The once-bustling gym had fallen silent, the air thick with anticipation.
Rudra and Rohan stood several meters apart inside the circle—eyes locked, muscles coiled. The tension between them was almost visible, like a taut string ready to snap.
Standing between them was Instructor Hameed Khan, his arms crossed behind his back, voice like a hammer striking iron.
"Alright," he began, his gaze sweeping the crowd, "since everyone's here, I'll explain the rules of the duel."
His voice echoed through the space, steady and stern.
"Rule one: No sharp weapons are to be used. This is a hand-to-hand and blunt-force combat challenge."
"Rule two: Any attempt to fatally injure the opponent—intentionally—will result in immediate disqualification and a two-month suspension from this gym."
"Rule three: If one of you admits defeat, the fight ends immediately, and the other is declared the winner."
The audience nodded in understanding, the seriousness of the rules only adding to the weight of the moment.
Hameed's eyes flicked between Rudra and Rohan. "Understood?"
"Understood!" both Rudra and Rohan shouted in unison, their voices firm and unwavering.
Instructor Hameed took one last glance at the two challengers—one calm and unreadable, the other burning with vengeance.
"Then let the duel begin…"
He suddenly leapt out of the arena with surprising agility.
"Now!"
The moment the word left his mouth; the duel had begun.
Hello Readers, I wish you enjoy reading this chapter. But I am very sad. Because, no one comments or vote power stone. As I upload the chapters, I also have some hope from readers.
I hope they support my work or if they have any ideas they share with me.
Anyways, I will try my best to continue motivate myself and upload the chapters regularly.