Chapter 38
Kon (2)
"Hey, what's going on over there?"
"I don't know… are they about to fight?"
It didn't take long for the other teams to notice the growing commotion—a team moving deeper into the white side of the physical classroom. Two men faced off at the center, both gripping wooden batons.
One of them was massive—standing at 6'5", with shoulders like stone cliffs. His eyes were sharp, his expression lit with a quiet thrill. His stance resembled a bull moments before the charge—raw, focused, and dangerous.
The other, IAM, was smaller in comparison, though still tall at 6'1". His build was average, but his deep brown eyes carried a heaviness, like a black hole hiding a storm. His face was tight with worry, cautious but alert. His stance resembled a twitching noodle on its last nerve.
Soon, the two were surrounded—students forming a tight circle, buzzing with curiosity.
Mia stepped between them. "For fairness, both of you are using wooden batons. You're only allowed to use base methods—and only the weakest. You stop when the other says, 'I surrender.' If you don't, you'll enter a world of pain. You also stop when I say 'stop,' or I'll personally feed you my fists for the next hour. If you understand, say: I will abide by your rules."
"I will abide by your rules," Kon said at once.
"Uh… I didn't actually get all that. Could you repeat it, starting from the part where I agreed to this spar?"
Mia's glare could have cut steel.
"I… I will abide by your rules," IAM muttered, as that same strange pressure—the one Regina Carlos had used—settled on his shoulders like a phantom weight.
Kon stretched his neck. "I would've preferred to break your bones, but your nose will do."
"Yes, inflate your ego by beating up a fresh recruit. I'm so proud of you," IAM said dryly.
Kon clicked his tongue. "Let's get this shit started. The crowd's waiting."
"Start."
"What—"
Mia didn't wait. IAM barely processed the word before Kon exploded forward like a missile. The space between them vanished in an instant. A brutal kick swept toward IAM's ribs. He brought up his baton just in time—
CRACK.
The impact echoed. IAM was sent flying, skidding across the floor like a ragdoll. Gasping, he scrambled upright, breath ragged. He checked his baton—it was cracked.
Perfect. Just perfect.
"Getting distracted in a fight? Only a dumbass would do that!!"
A boot slammed into IAM's face. He hit the ground again, groaning. Blood tasted like rust. He got up slower this time… and he could feel it. Kon was holding back. Playing with his food.
Laughing viciously, Kon lunged again, aiming to grab IAM's head. IAM rolled to the side just in time. He glanced up—Kon was already on him again.
Shit.
IAM raised his baton in time to block another strike. More splinters. His weapon was barely holding. Kon's was untouched. IAM realized it with clarity—he couldn't block this guy. He had to parry. Kon was too strong.
He had to change the rhythm.
Gritting his teeth, IAM feinted with a left, ducked low, and charged at Kon's legs.
Kon grunted, slightly thrown off. He was surprised. Most wouldn't try such a bold move against someone his size. For a second, it worked. IAM felt momentum shift. But Kon wasn't a rookie—he pivoted mid-stumble and used the momentum to flip IAM hard over his back.
WHAM.
IAM hit the floor again, hard enough to see stars.
"Holy shit, this guy is getting wrecked."
"Yeah, but look at the size difference. And that guy's a One-Star. Why's he beating up a newbie?"
"Wait—isn't that IAM? Ryan's friend?"
"Guess he let that friendship go to his head. What a dumbass."
"Exactly. Riding someone else's success never ends well."
"What a dumbass."
Mia watched the murmuring students with half an ear, but her eyes were still on the fight.
That kid… He's not as stupid as he acts. He should have noticed the loophole—the 'surrender' rule. I put that in on purpose. He said he didn't want to fight, but now? He's choosing to keep going. He's more hot-blooded than he think. As for Kon… he's probably forgotten all about it.
But IAM wasn't listening. The crowd, the noise—it was all static. His world was Kon, the bull in front of him.
He dodged left. Then right. Another low sweep—he jumped it. A jab—he deflected it with the flat of his broken baton.
Kon followed like a shadow. Step by step. Hit by hit.
IAM's legs were burning. His lungs screamed. Sweat clung to his eyes.
He'd been dodging, sure—but inexperience would always find a way. His back foot caught his front.
He fell.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Kon was there in a blink. Baton raised high, about to bring it down like a judge's gavel.
The end was coming—violent, fast, and certain.
But IAM's eyes deepens.
He flung his baton at Kon's exposed groin.
Kon's eyes flared wide. Instinct took over—he smashed the baton midair.
He sighed—until—
"Let me fix that face."
IAM's fist was already mid-swing.
Kon raised his baton like a bullet to block—
But it wasn't a punch.
"You thought, bitch!"
IAM twisted—SLAM!—his heel drove directly into Kon's balls.
"OOOOOOOOOOH!!"
The entire crowd winced as one. Horror. Sympathy. Respect.
"AAARGH!!"
Kon dropped his baton and buckled forward.
IAM wasn't finished.
CRACK.
A right hook crashed into Kon's chin. His head snapped back violently.
IAM leapt back, panting. His right hand throbbed—red, raw, knuckles split.
It felt like punching steel.
But he couldn't stop.
He closed his eyes briefly, forcing his thoughts into focus.
He's stronger. He's more technical.
What's my goal? My intent?
I want him to stop. Just stop moving. Long enough… for me to do something. Ho- wait... Cursed and blessed speech... I could try using my path..
Kon was rising again.
His face was twisted. His breathing feral.
Kon charged—unstoppable, a bull roaring down a narrow corridor.
Each step shook the ground like a drumbeat of doom.
He was seconds away.
His arms raised.
IAM's thoughts snapped to clarity.
I have no weapon.
No techniques.
But I have my path.
Speech…
Speech is influence.
Intent shapes influence.
My intent… is to stop him.
Kon closed the gap. One more second.
IAM drained mana—dragging from his core.
He centered himself.
His eyes locked onto the charging Kon.
He didn't breathe. He didn't flinch.He simply let go—of fear, of doubt, of logic.
Only one thing remained:
Intent.
My intent is to stop him.
I want him to stop.
STOP.
STOP.
STOP.
The chant looped in his skull like a mantra. Reality slowed.
Kon's baton was about to swing again—
He was going to bet it all on this moment.
IAM opened his mouth.
His voice wasn't just a voice. It was layered. Ethereal. Like a thousand voices of gods.
[STOP]