CHAPTER 89: FIRST MOVE OF EMBARASSMENT

"You are always welcome to fight back with everything you’ve got," Micha’el said with a confident grin. "But I will still limit myself to three moves."

The crowd murmured, but Micha’el remained calm. He picked up his greatsword and shifted into a wide, grounded stance, both hands gripping the hilt as he positioned the blade diagonally behind his back.

Then came the smirk.

"Just remember to do your best. After all, we have the great Tribal Chief Rhiki with us. He can stop us any time if things get... too exciting."

By now, the entire sparring platform had quieted.

The moment it became clear that a real match between a human and an elven prodigy was about to go down, those on nearby platforms halted their drills and proceeded to watch them instead.

"Hurry! This way!"

"It’s Micha’el versus the human freak!"

"Wait for me!"

Fighters, mentors, even apprentices rushed over, forming a wide ring around the platform. The once-busy training grounds now buzzed with anticipation.

’Whoah, what’s with this turnout?’ Auren blinked in surprise.

He hadn’t expected this many eyes.

A mix of curiosity, skepticism, and excitement filled the crowd. Word had clearly spread about him, and now everyone wanted to see if the human with no Divine Frame that stood against the Vulkris was all talk... or something more.

The stage was set.

A pair of elven healers waited at the edge of the platform, ready for any outcome. The crowd hushed as Rhiki stepped forward, his arms folded, eyes sharp and unreadable. His presence alone was enough to command order.

"Alright. Suit yourself," he said coolly, stepping back to give them space.

At the center stood Auren, his grip steady on the hilt of his Divine Rapier. His stance appeared relaxed, almost casual- but his gaze was razor sharp, focused, and unblinking.

Across from him stood Micha’el, the golden-haired prodigy of the Elves. Known for his legendary speed and the fastest Night Stalker kill in Test of Fang history, he was revered by many as the future of elven swordsmanship.

At least, that was the version of the story they chose to believe- because Auren’s feats had remained mostly ignored. Overshadowed. Forgotten.

But not for long.

’After this fight, everything might change.’ Auren thought to himself as he took a deep breath.

Rhiki raised a hand.

"You may begin," he declared.

The second his hand dropped, Micha’el burst forward like a windblown arrow.

"Let me introduce you to the strongest swordsmanship that can triumph over any human style!"

[Wind Sword Style: Blitzing Gale]

In the blink of an eye, Micha’el vanished mid-charge, his movements becoming an unpredictable blur.

He weaved left, then right, zigzagging at high speed like a loose arrow ricocheting in a canyon. Each shift left behind a faint trace of wind magic, his steps kicking up dust with almost rhythmic precision.

Those from the sides could barely keep up with his terrifying speed and agility.

’Impressive, right? Bet you didn’t expect that from a guy carrying a massive sword!’ Micha’el thought smugly while he contined to show off.

The crowd gasped.

"Did you see that?"

"Even my arrows can’t move that fast!"

"That’s the Wind Sword Style, right?"

"No way that human survives this!"

"Watch out, Auren!" Jaira shouted, clutching her arm as tension gripped her. She remembered quite well that it was the same technique that took her out.

But Auren didn’t flinch. He barely even blinked.

While the elves buzzed in awe and Micha’el flaunted his speed, Auren kept his gaze steady. HIs stance was calm. His mind was calculating.

’Impressive calmness... Now let me see how you react.’ Rhiki thought while watching from the side.

Auren watched Micha’el’s irratic movement with steady breathing.

’There is a pattern and a beat he is following...’ Auren quickly deducted.

’This style... the pattern’s familiar,’ Auren thought.

He subtly shifted his weight onto his back foot, his grip tightening around the sword hilt.

’It’s like how the Night Stalkers hunt. They show off erratic charges to mask the angle of attack... but the moment you lower your guard, they always go for the back.’

Mana flickered around his core, but he clamped it down.

’Now was not the time.’ he quickly controlled his urges to use his mana right away.

’I don’t have enough mana to waste. This has to be done without using it if possible.’

He breathed in.

Robert’s voice echoed in his head,

"If they can’t catch you from a blind spot, they’ll start weaving around, trying to throw you off balance and bait out until you start to panic. But remember this, son... Fake movements don’t kill. Real ones do. Watch how their weight shifts. Read their eyes. Feel their intent. Don’t fall into their rhythm. Make them follow yours."

And so Auren watched. Not the movements. Not the sword. But the rhythm. The weight. The little pauses that revealed intention.

’Damn, I wish I could use Tiger Focus right now... but it’s not worth it for a spar. Not yet.’

Instead, he trusted his instincts.

Micha’el finally moved in with a quick but heavy strut. In one last blur, he vanished behind Auren, aiming a heavy diagonal strike at his exposed arm.

"Too slow, human!" Micha’el roared mid-swing.

But Auren was already turning.

KLANG!

Steel met steel in a violent clash, the impact ringing through the air like a war bell. Sparks burst outward from the collision, scattering like fireflies. In that fleeting flash, Micha’el’s wide eyes caught both the flare of light and the impossible reflex in Auren’s counter.

’No way! How did he read that?!’

Thud!

The force hurled Auren backward. He skidded across the platform, boots scraping against stone, but somehow twisted mid-roll and landed on his feet, one hand bracing the ground, the other still gripping his Divine Rapier.

"Ow..." he muttered, rubbing his lower back.

"That’s gonna leave a bruise later on..."

Despite the force of the strike, he’d managed to parry in time. His hands were numb from the impact, but he was still standing.

The crowd exploded.

"Did you see that?!"

"He actually blocked it!"

"I thought he couldn’t use mana?"

"Obviously it was a lucky block!"

Micha’el, meanwhile, was frozen in place, brows twitching.

’H-how did he block that? That wasn’t supposed to happen!’

He took a step back and steadied his breath.

’They’re right. Must’ve been a lucky read. No way he does it twice.’

On the sidelines, Leon’do leaned toward Anast’cia. "Hey. You’ve got better eyes than me. Did Auren use an observation skill just now?"

Anast’cia narrowed her eyes, tracking Auren with laser focus.

"I’ve been watching his eyes the whole time. I’m certain- he didn’t activate any skill. Not even a flicker of mana."

Leon’do frowned. "Then what’s bothering you?"

She didn’t look away.

"...I’ll tell you later."

Something in that first exchange had stirred her.

The way Auren moved... it wasn’t luck. It was instinct honed to precision. Every motion was deliberate, sharp, and controlled. As a proud battle junkie herself, Anast’cia felt a strange thrill rise in her chest.

’Is this how humans really fight? I hate to admit it... but that was impressive.’

Her focus snapped fully onto the match.

She was hooked instantly.

And yet, she had no idea- what she’d just witnessed wasn’t some common human technique. It was something uniquely Auren. A fusion of Robert’s teachings, fragments of Earth’s martial arts, and Auren’s own raw imagination, molded into a style all his own.

And she wasn’t the only one catching on.

Around the platform, more than half the elite elves began activating Falcon Focus and other advanced sensory skills- just to keep up.

Back on the platform, Micha’el tightened his grip on his sword and stepped forward.

"Nice luck. But there won’t be a next time."

He spun his sword sideways and charged again, this time without the theatrics. He wasn’t aiming to show off anymore. He was aiming to land a clean, decisive strike.

Auren exhaled.

’That first one rattled my bones. If I take another one like that, it might break something.’

But he didn’t retreat. He dug in his heel and readied his stance.

’Two more... I need to find a way to redirect the force and use his own strength to my advantage...’