Martial Demons Ascension

Rhyka dragged the curved blade across the floor as he walked back to center, the steel ringing softly against the stone When he reached his mark, he leaned casually against the weapon like it was nothing more than a walking stick.

Then, he yawned Loudly Exaggeratedly.

The students watching scoffed and jeered, but the act wasn't for them it was for himself.

Because beneath the mask, his heart was thundering against his ribs His lungs burned from the constant dodging. Every nerve in his body was on edge, alive with the instinct that had carried him through Loretta's onslaught The truth was, her water had been fast Faster than he liked. Had his timing been off by even half a second, his ribs would've been crushed or his mask torn off his face.

But appearances mattered more than truth. His image was everything So he forced his body to relax, forced his smirk to stay in place, and leaned heavier on the blade as if bored.

Loretta was still on one knee, gasping for breath, sweat dripping from her chin to the stone Every inhale made her stomach burn where his fist had connected The ribbons of water that had collapsed were slowly knitting themselves together again, thin streams reforming around her wrists and ankles.

She wasn't finished yet, and everyone knew it But for now, all eyes were on Rhyka.

And Rhyka knew it.

He let his gaze roam lazily across the crowd of classmates gathered at the edge of the stage, as if daring any of them to step up His eyes locked onto Hella, who was whispering into Millis's ear with that same smug smirk she always wore when mocking him.

Rhyka's lips curled into a sneer.

Slowly, deliberately, he raised his middle finger in her direction.

Then, just so there was no mistake, he mouthed the words:

You're next.

The class erupted.

Some gasped Others laughed nervously. A few covered their mouths, eyes wide The insult was crude, childish even, but paired with the mask, the blade, and the sheer gall it landed like a declaration of war.

Hella froze for a second, her eyes narrowing before her face twisted with fury "That bastard…" she hissed.

Millis, beside her, puffed up instantly like an angry rooster His shoulders squared, chest rising as if he were already marching onto the stage His jaw clenched tight, the veins in his neck standing out.

"Say that again, freak!" Millis shouted across the arena, voice cracking with a mix of anger and embarrassment "I'll crush you myself!"

Several students began egging him on, their cheers clashing with the murmurs of unease spreading after Loretta's near-collapse.

On the stage, Rhyka simply tilted his head, the half-mask catching the light He didn't repeat himself. He didn't need to.

The silent glare he sent Millis was more than enough.

Meanwhile, Emmet rubbed the bridge of his nose, watching the scene spiral first Loretta nearly humiliated, now Rhyka provoking his fellow students

Because beneath the arrogance, the boy's movements had been impeccable And that made this clash worth observing Loretta staggered upright, her breaths sharp, sweat plastering strands of golden hair to her face The ribbons of water whipped back into position around her, circling like wolves ready to pounce. Her stomach ached where his fist had landed earlier, but her eyes burned with determination she wasn't going to be humiliated so easily.

But Rhyka wasn't nearly as lenient as he had pretended to be.

The moment she straightened, he moved.

His body exploded forward in a blur, the blade low, his footwork a web of deceptive shifts The crowd gasped at the sudden burst of speed no taunts, no waiting, just a direct assault.

His sword slashed diagonally, a feint, baiting her water to react.

It did.

The flowing ribbons surged in front of her, intercepting the arc of steel with a wet crash. At the same instant, Loretta countered, twisting her hips and snapping a sharp kick at his side with dancer's precision.

But Rhyka was already a step ahead.

The blade wasn't meant to hit It was a distraction.

As the water shifted to meet his feint, his real attack came low His free foot whipped across the floor, sweeping under her planted leg Loretta's balance shattered as her body lurched sideways.

Her eyes widened she hadn't expected him to risk closing in this tight.

The water jerked, trying to whip downward to catch her fall.

But Rhyka didn't give it the chance.

His other foot snapped upward in a brutal strike, burying itself into her stomach a second time The air left her lungs in a violent gasp, her body folding from the impact.

And before she could even hit the ground, the cold edge of his curved blade pressed against her throat.

The arena froze.

Loretta's arms trembled, the remnants of her water magic collapsing into a harmless splash that hissed against the stage Her eyes were wide, the fight knocked out of her both physically and mentally She knew it as much as he did.

She lost.

Rhyka didn't gloat He didn't cheer He simply stood above her, his boot planted firmly into the stone, his mask shadowing his expression The message was clear enough: if this hadn't been a spar, she would be dead.

Gasps echoed from the watching students.

"Did he just"

"Loretta lost?!"

"No way… she had Water Dance"

Eto covered her mouth she had justfinished her second fight , eyes darting between Loretta and the masked boy Rinnte, sitting apart from the others, narrowed his eyes in sharp focus Millis clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles popped, Hella whispering furiously in his ear.

Emmet, standing on the sideline, didn't announce the result immediately He just stared For the second time in a row, Rhyka had completely dismantled a mage not with spells, but with nothing but pure technique, timing, and brutality.

Finally, after a long pause, he raised his hand.

"Winner: Rhyka."

The crowd erupted in a storm of whispers, anger, and disbelief.

And in the middle of it all, Rhyka stood tall, blade resting lazily on his shoulder, his mask tilted as though he were staring down the entire class at once.