CHAPTER 245: RANKING MATCHES [4]

Eventually, Trent name was called.

He stood quietly, waiting by the door, until the instructor in the center gave him a subtle nod. That was the signal.

The door creaked open.

And standing on the other side... was that guy.

Small frame. No threatening aura. A fragile-looking body that seemed like it would fall apart with a light breeze.

His hair was messily tied back, giving him the awkward air of someone who didn’t really care about appearances. On the surface, he looked like a pushover.

But appearances were deceiving.

Most people still didn’t have a proper grasp of his true capabilities. In fact, almost no one even bothered to properly evaluate him. They just overlooked him entirely—except for a few who had witnessed firsthand what he could really do that day.

And this guy? He was one of them.

The boy raised a hand and waved casually, a lazy grin on his face.

"Oh~ Long time no see."

The memory hit him like a gust of wind—sharp and vivid.

—A bet? Have you lost your mind, you little punk? I specifically told you not to get involved with them just because they were looking for a fight. A bet? Do you seriously think it’s okay to risk people’s safety like that? From now on, stop running around starting fights with random kids, you idiot.

That scolding voice echoed faintly in his mind as he stared at the familiar figure.

"...Yeah," Trent replied after a pause. "It’s been a while."

The crowd buzzed with mild interest as Trent stepped onto the circular arena platform, every footstep heavier than the last.

He could hear the chatter from the audience stands above.

"Oh, Trent? He’s from Leo’s group, right?"

"Who’s that guy he’s facing?"

"Rin Evans, I think. Weird kid."

Trent tried to block out the murmurs. He rolled his shoulders, summoned his tower shield, and took a deep breath.

Across the platform, Rin stood casually, still sipping from that same thermos like he was just out for a morning stroll.

He wasn’t even holding a weapon.

Just that damn thermos.

Trent narrowed his eyes. "Are you gonna fight with that thing?"

Rin blinked, then looked at the thermos as if seeing it for the first time. "Huh?" He took one last sip, capped it, and tucked it inside his cloak. "Nah. Just coffee. You want some?"

Trent stared. Was he serious?

Before he could answer, the referee’s voice echoed through the arena.

"Match Three: Trent Volt vs. Rin Evans! Begin!"

A moment of silence followed.

Trent raised his shield.

Rin just stood there, tilting his head slightly, hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world.

"...You’re not gonna move?" Trent asked, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

"Hmm? Oh. I was just waiting to see if you’d open with something flashy," Rin said with a light grin. "You know, for the crowd."

Trent gave a stiff chuckle. It wasn’t funny. Not to him.

’Should I just forfeit the match?’

That thought had crossed his mind more than once since the duel was announced. Rin Evans had too many damn surprises under his sleeve. But now, it felt like a serious option.

Right until—

"Ohhh! Rin! You do your best too~!"

Ama’s bright, energetic voice rang across the arena field.

And it wasn’t for him.

It was for Rin.

Trent’s jaw tightened.

Hell no! Fuck forfeiting! I’ll defeat him right here, right now!

He clenched his fists.

"There are times when a man has to do what he has to do."

Rin blinked. "What?"

"There are moments when you can’t back down... even if you know you’re going to lose."

Rin stared at him, slightly wide-eyed like he was watching a dramatic scene from a soap opera.

"...Okay?" he said, voice uncertain.

But to Trent, this was serious.

Violet liked Leo Taylor. That truth had crushed him.

That was why he’d given up on chasing her and decided to focus on the two other girls who had shown him genuine affection.

But now, another wall stood in his path—Rin.

If he wanted to grow, to be someone worthy, he couldn’t keep running.

Not again.

Trent’s aura flared to life, a pale silver light coating his arms as he sprinted forward without hesitation.

His movements were fueled not just by training, but by pride.

Even if this was going to hurt.

This was his chance to prove himself to them.

That he was worthy of both of them.

----

Rin Evans POV

...Is he crazy?

What’s wrong with him?

The sight of him spouting nonsense to himself and then charging at me was a bit difficult to process. His silver aura flared like he was about to deliver divine judgment, eyes burning with something... tragic?

Was he heartbroken?

I tilted my head, sidestepping him easily as his shield swung wide.

Boom!

The edge of his tower shield slammed into the arena floor, sending a light tremor through the platform. Impressive strength. Too bad it was wasted on the ground.

I didn’t counter. Just walked a step back, watching him reset his stance.

"You okay?" I asked, hands still in my pockets.

Trent huffed, eyes locked on me. "Don’t act like I’m weak."

"I didn’t say that." I gave a slow shrug. "But your first swing missed by a solid foot."

"You dodged."

"That’s what I do."

"...Tch."

He came at me again, this time lower, shield braced in front and his body tucked behind it like a mobile fortress.

’Better,’ I thought.

I moved, just a few degrees off his angle, tapping my foot lightly against the arena stone to angle away from the frontal push. His charge missed by a hair’s breadth again.

"You’re serious about this, huh?" I said, glancing toward the stands.

Ama was waving enthusiastically. Mira was watching with an unreadable expression.

I had a sudden epiphany.

"Wait," I said, as Trent caught himself and wheeled back around. "Is this about a girl?"

He froze mid-turn, shoulder tensing like I just hit a nerve.

"...None of your business."

"Oh my god," I whispered, half in awe. "It is about a girl."

"It’s about me getting stronger!" he snapped. "Don’t make this sound like some stupid schoolyard drama!"

"But it is schoolyard drama," I deadpanned. "We’re literally in school, dueling in front of everyone, and I heard that dramatic speech earlier. What was it? ’There are times when a man must fight’—seriously?"

"Shut up!"

Another charge.

More aura.

More emotion.

Still no impact.

I yawned mid-dodge, which earned a ripple of laughter from the crowd.

"...You’re mocking me," he muttered, voice bitter.

"Not really," I said honestly. "But you’re swinging at shadows. You’re fighting with your feelings, not your fists. That never ends well."

Trent suddenly stopped, shield still raised, breath shallow.

"...Then teach me," he said, voice quieter now. "If you’re so strong—if you really know how to fight, then teach me how to stop being weak."

That surprised me.

The audience had gone silent too.

"...You sure?" I asked.

He nodded once, slowly.

"To build my own harem. I have to learn."

My expression frozen at thos words.

I thought he was aiming for Ama but he wants Mira as well?

"Just Die."

"Wait!? What?"

I don’t like Harem shit.