Quade, on the other hand, looked like he was chewing glass. “Him? Really?” His voice carried irritation and disbelief. Seeing Marcus single out Axel only stoked his resentment further.

Axel, for his part, didn’t hesitate.

“Yeah. It’s time,” he said simply—and then moved.

With one step, he landed in the ring.

From the stands, the leap didn’t look like much, but the power behind it was undeniable. Seven or eight meters in a single bound. Far beyond what a normal second-level awakener could do.

“What the hell…?” Colt blinked. “Isn’t he level two?”

“He is,” Zara said softly. “But he’s not just level two.”

The students of Bloodstone Warfare School all sat back down, the air buzzing with curiosity. “He’s so young… He looks about the same age as Marcus.”

Onstage, Marcus studied him with visible interest. “So… you’re with the Whisper Syndicate.”

Axel nodded. He could feel the weight of every eye.

Defeating Marcus wasn’t enough—not for this mission to succeed.

“Let’s go,” he said.

The referee stepped forward again, but before he could announce the start, Marcus held up a hand.

“You’re not using weapons?” he asked Axel. “Then I won’t either.”

That raised more than a few eyebrows. The Syndicate's side instantly started murmuring.

“This guy serious?”

“He’s that confident?”

Arrogant. Maybe. But Axel didn’t take it that way. Marcus wasn’t posturing—he was just looking for a real fight. Axel understood that. And respected it.

Still, he sighed. “Fine. No weapons.”

He tapped his bracelet, and a sleek Desert Eagle dropped neatly into his palm. Without hesitation, he handed it to the referee.

Marcus’s jaw twitched. Was he planning to bring a goddamn pistol into this fight?

Quade’s face darkened in the stands. “This bastard’s more devious than me…”

The referee, speechless, pocketed the gun with an awkward look. Marcus crushed a recovery stone in his hand, replenishing his Force. Then the fight officially began.

Axel exhaled, centering himself. Energy surged through him. He knew Marcus was strong—dangerously strong. But if weapons were allowed, Marcus wouldn’t have stood a chance.

And without them? He still didn’t.

Axel’s opponents had always been stronger—sometimes two levels higher. He was used to pressure. Used to pain. He had never had a battle quite as luxurious as this one.

On the other side, Marcus moved, fingers forming a sword shape as he advanced. Even without his bamboo sword, his Sword Intent condensed into a tangible edge.

Slash!

It cut through the air toward Axel.

Axel didn’t flinch.

He could feel the intensity, the deadly edge of that sword intent. But he didn’t dodge. Instead, he leaned into it, tilting his head so the strike would hit his torso instead of his face.

Marcus hesitated. What the hell is he doing?

Right as his strike was about to connect, Marcus twisted his wrist and pulled back sharply, retreating two full steps.

The audience was confused.

“Why’d he back off?”

“He had him! Was he worried about hurting him?”

Whispers spread through the crowd, but Brandon and a few of the sharper elites were watching Axel with narrowed eyes.

“Why didn’t you dodge?” Marcus narrowed his eyes, fingers still poised mid-air, his invisible sword not yet retracted. His awakening skills were so ingrained into his body now that they activated as naturally as breathing.

But something had felt… off.

A gut instinct told him that if he had struck just then, something very bad might’ve happened.

“You could’ve tried,” Axel replied with a smile, eyes steady. There was a hint of regret in his tone—as if he’d missed a golden opportunity. If I’d played it right, pretended I couldn’t dodge in time and let him land that hit…

Then Marcus would’ve learned what it felt like to hit a brick wall.

His physique had already hit an insane level—over 700. He wasn’t far off from Quade’s power level, and Quade was a third-level mid-grade awakener. But unlike Quade, Axel had trained in three different combat styles and possessed a healing-type awakening skill. That meant he could tank a hit and trade injury for injury without flinching.

But that didn’t serve his long-term goals.

Marcus watched him closely. Axel was standing there like he had time to think. That kind of composure was dangerous.

Marcus’s blood surged. His fingers drew a circle in the air, sword intent coiling around them like glowing threads of wind, sharpening until they shimmered with lethal precision. This time, it wasn’t just a bluff.

Awakening Skill: Piercing Sword.

His true power was the Body of Sword Intent—his entire body could become a weapon.

The surge of energy that followed was undeniable.

And yet Axel didn’t move. Instead, he charged forward like a goddamn bull.

Marcus’s eyes widened. “Is he *seriously* not afraid of dying?!”

There was no time to hesitate. The dual sword intents lashed out, slicing through the air like twin hurricanes.

Swish!

They tore across Axel’s body, slicing deep. Wind exploded outward from the impact, snow whipping up into a flurry—and mixed in the flakes, blood.

But something was wrong.

Marcus’s instincts flared again. He looked closer—and his jaw tightened.

The wounds on Axel’s body were already closing. Flesh reknit itself with terrifying speed, steam rising from freshly healed skin.

Boom!

Axel didn’t stop. He plowed through Marcus’s sword strike and slammed into the ground where Marcus had just stood. If Marcus hadn’t backed off in time, that hit would’ve flattened him.

“What the hell?” Luke muttered in disbelief from the stands. His eyes narrowed. With his experience, he could recognize a healing-type awakening skill from a mile away. But Axel? He was a warrior type, wasn’t he? How the hell did he have that kind of healing power?

Was he seeing things?

In the audience, Juno and Colt both had their jaws on the floor.

“Okay,” Colt exhaled. “Turns out we’re the only trash in this whole squad.”

“You’re trash. Don’t lump me in with you,” Juno shot back, then grinned. “Axel, you absolute monster.”

Quade sat nearby, still nursing the red welt on his forehead, staring into the swirling snow as the cold crept deeper into his bones.

I’m so tired of this shit.

The tide of the fight shifted again.

Marcus’s experience told him to retreat—and he did, just in time to avoid Axel’s next rush. But Axel wasn’t letting him breathe. His legs tore across the snow like a plow, sending powder flying as he lunged in again with brute force.

Only now did Marcus understand. Axel wasn’t just fearless because of his healing skill. His Force and physique were monstrous.

They were both level two—but Axel’s strength eclipsed his. If Marcus hadn’t known better, he’d think the guy had already advanced to level three.

He barely dodged Axel’s hand, his body blurring in retreat—but Axel was on him instantly, relentless.

Swish!

Marcus unleashed another burst of sword intent. Still, Axel didn’t even blink.

On the sidelines, the students from the Warfare School were gripping their seats.

Against Quade, Marcus had been cool and composed, breaking through raw strength with technique. But now? This was different.

Marcus wasn’t in control anymore. He was being pushed back.

“Wait… Marcus is losing?”

“Is he being overwhelmed?”

The students of Bloodstone Warfare School were shaken. Some couldn't even process what they were seeing.

Brandon sat upright in his chair, most of his injuries healed. He didn’t take his eyes off the fight.

“Looks like Marcus is struggling,” someone said beside him.

Brandon didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, “Axel’s Force is stronger. And he’s got a restorative awakening.”

“But still… why is Marcus keeping his distance like this?”

Brandon’s gaze sharpened.

“Don’t worry. He’s not that easy to take down.”

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