Jason wiped the blood from under his nose with the back of his wrist and let out a short, deliberate chuckle.
"With that big mouth of yours I figured I wouldn't even be able to take a single punch. Turns out you hit like a lady."
Larry's face flushed dark. "Stop acting tough. One more solid exchange and you'll have both feet in the grave."
Jason spread his arms, still smiling through the swelling. "One foot in the grave? Please. I still have plenty of fight left… my lady."
The words landed like a spark on dry tinder. Laughter erupted across the square—first from the outer-camp spectators, then from several of the younger disciples, and finally even from a few of the elders who could not quite keep their composure. Austin, standing at the edge of the arena, doubled over with one hand pressed to his stomach, tears of mirth at the corners of his eyes.
"Hahaha! Larry, you can't even hit harder than that and you claim you're stronger than me? What a proper lady you turned out to be!"
The family head sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "I wonder how that boy expects to keep his life with a mouth that large."
Two rows down, Hannah shot to her feet again, both arms raised. "That's my big brother right there!"
Clara's hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her back onto the bench. "Keep your voice down. You'll only make things worse for him."
On the platform Larry's aura spiked, killing intent rolling off him in visible waves. The bracelet's voice arrived in Jason's mind, edged with genuine caution.
*You've really done it this time. He's past ordinary anger.*
*That's the point,* Jason answered silently, eyes never leaving Larry. *The angrier he gets, the wider the openings become.*
Larry began walking forward, each step measured and heavy. "I didn't want to take this fight seriously. It would have cost you your life for no good reason. But that mouth of yours left me no choice."
Jason kept his arms open, posture almost inviting. "I only said what everyone can see. If you think I'm wrong, prove it. Show them you hit harder than a man."
Larry actually stopped. He studied Jason for a long second, as though trying to decide whether the outsider had lost his mind.
"Of course I'm going to prove it."
Jason tilted his head. "Then why am I still standing? If you hit like a real man I should already be finished."
Fresh laughter rolled through the crowd. Austin wiped his eyes and called out again, voice bright with malice.
"Nice one, kid! I can't believe you spotted that she's not actually a he!"
Larry spun toward him, face contorted. "You're the 'she' here! Your whole family—"
Austin's expression flattened instantly. "Watch your mouth, Larry. Bad things can happen after the match."
The warning carried enough weight that Larry forced his breathing under control and turned back to Jason.
"Enjoy the noise while it lasts. You're only making this worse for yourself."
Jason's smile stayed easy. "I'm telling the truth. If you still disagree, why don't we settle it cleanly? One full-power hit each. No dodging, no blocking. Whoever can't stay standing loses the match right here."
Larry let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You're looking to die if you think you can take a clean hit from me."
Jason sighed theatrically. "Sounds like someone is already scared of losing."
From the stands Hannah cupped her hands around her mouth. "Booo! What a coward—trying to talk his way out!"
Austin joined in at once. "Come on, Larry. Don't tell me you're afraid of a simple challenge."
Larry's pride finally overrode caution. He barked a reply at Austin—"Of course I'm not afraid; the advantage is mine!"—and strode the remaining distance to Jason.
He turned to the officiating elder. "Elder, do you permit us to decide the match this way?"
The elder glanced toward the higher seats. The grand elder gave a single, deliberate nod. The elder looked back.
"As long as the exchange is not deliberately life-threatening, you may proceed."
Both fighters offered a short bow of acknowledgment.
Jason lowered his arms and stood completely open. "I'll let you go first. Wouldn't want anyone saying I bullied the weak."
Larry's eyes narrowed. "You asked for it."
He pulled his fist back, spiritual energy flooding the arm until the air around it seemed to thicken, then drove the punch straight into Jason's solar plexus with everything he had.
The impact was catastrophic. Jason's body folded around the fist. A thick mouthful of blood left him as he dropped to one knee, both arms wrapped around his midsection, sweat beading instantly across his forehead. For several heartbeats he stayed there, breathing in short, controlled pulls while the pain radiated outward in crushing waves.
Larry stepped back, chest rising and falling, a look of savage satisfaction on his face. "That's what a big mouth gets you."
The satisfaction died when Jason planted one foot, then the other, and rose fully upright again. Blood still ran from his lips, and his face was pale beneath the dirt and swelling, but he was standing.
Larry's eyes widened. "That's impossible. How are you still on your feet?"
Jason's smile returned, thin and sharp. "Doesn't matter. My turn."
He drew only a modest amount of spiritual energy into his right hand—just enough to fully form the Invisible Iron Fist coating—and stepped forward. The punch looked almost ordinary. It landed cleanly against Larry's upper abdomen.
Larry froze.
His eyes stayed open, but the light behind them went distant. He remained upright for a full second, as though the body had not yet received the message that it had been finished. Then a single tremor ran through him.
A confused murmur rose from the spectators.
"Did he even feel it? It looked like he wasn't hit at all."
"I think he passed out on his feet."
The officiating elder moved in quickly, pressed two fingers to Larry's neck, then to the point just below the sternum. After a moment he straightened and raised his voice so the entire square could hear.
"The winner of the match—Jason McCray."
Larry's body finally accepted the verdict. His knees buckled and he collapsed forward onto the packed earth, unconscious before he fully settled. Jason remained standing a few paces away, one hand still loosely curled, the other pressed lightly against his own abused ribs, while the reality of the second consecutive upset settled over the stunned crowd.