Yavi walked slowly onto the dueling platform, twirling the wooden training sword lightly in his hand. He planted his feet and calmly swept his azure eyes over the Royal Election Faction. "Who wants to go first?"
An uproar immediately rose below the platform. A burly upperclassman from the Royal Election Faction sneered and leaped onto the stage. The swordsmanship badge on his chest glittered dazzlingly under the lights.
"Interesting." He looked Yavi over contemptuously. "A rookie who isn't even in the swordsmanship school actually dreams of taking on all five of us?" He deliberately raised his voice. "Looks like it's time to teach you what it means to respect your seniors!"
Vivian stood below the platform, her long pink hair swaying gently with her exaggerated movements. She raised her voice in feigned concern. "Oh my~ He's Senior Mel's most precious little brother!" She lightly covered the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief, but malice gleamed in her eyes. "Do go easy on him. Make sure you don't scratch that pretty face~"
Her words drew a burst of laughter from the Royal Election Faction, with several girls playing along with exaggerated gasps. Below the platform, Mel clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug deep into her palms, yet she stubbornly remained silent.
Hearing this, the upperclassman on the platform gave a savage grin. "Don't worry. I'll take good 'care' of our junior." He deliberately swung his wooden training sword through a dangerous arc. "At most... he'll spend a month in bed."
Yavi's expression did not change in the slightest. He merely adjusted his stance slightly, his wooden sword angled toward the ground in a seemingly casual position that concealed lethal intent. In the sunlight, his blue eyes resembled a frozen lake, an edge hidden beneath their calm.
Seeing Yavi remain silent, the upperclassman assumed he was frightened, and a vicious grin curled his lips. He suddenly lunged forward, his wooden sword whistling sharply as it thrust straight at Yavi's face-if that blow landed, it would surely disfigure him.
Yet Yavi merely turned slightly sideways, letting the wooden sword skim past his nose by a hair. Startled, the upperclassman immediately changed his attack into a horizontal sweep, only to see Yavi lightly retreat half a step, evading it perfectly once again.
"You're quick at dodging, rookie!" Humiliated, the upperclassman flew into a rage, his attacks growing fiercer. The wooden sword became a blur in his hands, chopping, thrusting, sweeping, and flicking upward, every strike vicious. But to his shock, Yavi seemed able to anticipate his movements, precisely blocking or evading each attack with the smallest possible motion.
The laughter below the platform gradually died away. Everyone held their breath as they watched this "rookie" effortlessly handle the fierce assault of an expert from the swordsmanship school. Mel's clenched fists trembled slightly, disbelief shining in her eyes.
"Damn it!" Cold sweat beaded on the upperclassman's forehead as he lost face. Suddenly, he roared, gripping his sword in both hands and delivering a powerful diagonal slash. This move had once shattered an opponent's wooden sword with a single blow in a match.
Just as everyone thought Yavi was in trouble, his figure suddenly shifted like a ghost. The wooden sword whistled past the hem of his clothes and cleaved empty air, while Yavi had already slipped to his opponent's flank.
Smack!
With a sharp crack, Yavi's wooden sword struck precisely against the outside of the upperclassman's right knee. The young man cried out in pain, his left leg involuntarily dropping to the ground. Before he could react, Yavi's second strike was already sweeping toward him with a whistle-
Thud!
The wooden sword slammed into the upperclassman's neck with such force that it sent his entire body flying sideways, crashing heavily onto the edge of the platform. He curled up, clutching his neck and retching incessantly, without even the strength to stand.
Yavi looked down at his opponent curled on the ground, a trace of icy contempt flashing through his azure eyes. He slowly drew back his wooden sword, his voice terrifyingly calm. "You should count yourself lucky this is only a wooden-sword match."
In the deathly silence, Yavi's words reached everyone's ears clearly. "If we were fighting with real swords-" He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the pale-faced Royal Election Faction members below the platform. "Your head would have rolled a dozen meters away by now."
Those words were like an invisible blade, sending chills down everyone's spine. At the words, the fallen upperclassman's face instantly went from red to ashen. He even forgot to retch, merely staring at Yavi in terror.
Below the platform, Mel drew in a sharp breath. She had never seen this side of her younger brother-the always gentle and courteous Yavi now radiated a chilling, icy killing intent.
The entire auditorium fell utterly silent. Yavi slowly drew back his sword, his azure eyes calmly sweeping over the dumbstruck Royal Election Faction members below. "Next."
After several Royal Election Faction students hurriedly carried the defeated fighter to the infirmary, a lean upperclassman silently stepped onto the platform. He too wore a swordsmanship badge on his chest, and his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.
Unlike the previous showy challenger, this swordsman simply gave a sword salute before taking a defensive stance, focusing intently on Yavi's every movement. Yavi also gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.
The air on the platform seemed to freeze. The two stood facing each other with swords in hand, neither attacking rashly. The spectators below even held their breath unconsciously. It was so quiet that a pin dropping could have been heard.
After a brief stalemate, Yavi suddenly moved. His wooden sword thrust out like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, only to be steadily blocked by his opponent. They traded attacks, their wooden swords clashing as densely as falling rain. This challenger had clearly learned from his predecessor's mistake, making every move solid and measured, leaving Yavi no openings.
Yet during a seemingly ordinary transition between attack and defense, Yavi's sword suddenly twisted along a bizarre path. His wooden sword slipped around his opponent's guard at an incredible angle and struck him precisely on the temple.
Smack!
The crisp impact made the entire audience gasp in unison. The swordsman staggered backward, his vision darkening. Before he could regain his balance, Yavi's wooden sword had already shot straight toward his abdomen like lightning.
"Urgh!"
With a muffled groan, the challenger dropped heavily to his knees, both hands clamped over his abdomen as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He struggled to stand, only to collapse again from the intense pain.
Yavi drew back his sword and stood calmly watching the medical staff hurry onto the platform. His breathing had not even faltered, as though the fierce duel had been nothing more than a leisurely stroll.
"Yavi! Yavi!"
Deafening cheers suddenly erupted from the Popular Election Faction's side. Maxim's face flushed red with excitement as he jumped up, pumping his fists. "Well done! Show them what we're made of!"
Mel took a deep breath, the gloom in her eyes gradually fading. Watching that straight-backed, blond-haired figure on the platform, she unconsciously gave a proud smile. The strength her younger brother had shown far exceeded her imagination. The once-young child had now grown into a warrior who could hold his own.
"Keep going, Yavi..." she murmured, unconsciously clasping her hands before her chest.
The cheers below the platform rose in wave after wave, and the Popular Election Faction students seemed to have found hope again. Some even began shouting, "Three wins in a row! Three wins in a row!"
Yavi heard the shouts behind him but did not turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the Royal Election Faction's side, where three challengers still stood. A sharp gleam flashed through his azure eyes as he slowly raised his wooden sword, pointing its tip straight at his remaining opponents:
"Next."