"Isn't this going a bit far? If this keeps up, Dessily might end up with lasting psychological scars." In the stands, a young man frowned with concern. It was hard to watch such a beautiful young girl endure such rough treatment.
"Why don't you go down and play hero? Who knows, maybe she'd fall for you on the spot," someone teased.
"Do you think her family stewards would just stand by?" another laughed.
"Hey, she hasn't even surrendered yet! Why worry on her behalf?" a girl watching from the stands questioned.
"They're siblings; one fights, the other endures. Why should outsiders interfere?" said another girl, who found it quite entertaining to watch. Dessily's 80% compatibility with the Star Armor had earned her privileges within the family that, in earlier times, would have been reserved for a princess. And now, here was this "princess" getting thoroughly beaten by her own brother—a sight all too satisfying for some of the onlookers.
…
"Enough. Over half your bones are broken, and if this goes on, you'll probably pass out soon. Just surrender," Muria calmly suggested, observing the blood-streaked girl before him. Despite her lack of skill, he admired her resilience.
"How do you know?"
"I know because I caused those injuries myself. I'm well aware of your condition."
"Then let me fight until I pass out!" Dessily gritted her teeth, dragging her heavy body forward. She aimed straight for Muria's face, the one place she desperately wanted to hit.
Smack!
This time, to her surprise, her hand slipped past his protective aura and struck his handsome face, making a resounding slap.
"Dessily, interested in training in martial arts?" Muria asked, looking down at her, her hand still against his face. "Without Star Armor, even if I lower my defenses, you still can't hurt me."
"Hah!" With her vision blurring, Dessily managed a cold laugh before collapsing to the ground. As she fell, she muttered her final words, "Brother, you've got a thick skin."
"Call in the medical team," Muria said, turning toward the stewards. Soon, medics arrived with a stretcher to carry off Dessily, her Star Armor in tatters.
"With the medical tech here, she'll probably be bedridden for half a month," Muria estimated. Then, he turned to leave the arena.
"Jeros, halt!" A shout rang out from above.
"Yes? What is it?" Muria looked up to see a Star Armor warrior in black, hovering in the sky.
"You sent me a challenge letter through your servant, didn't you? Well, why wait? Let's settle it now," the young man yelled, infuriated by Muria's recent actions.
"Now? Sure." Muria agreed without a second thought, his energy already recovered from the fight with Dessily.
Boom! Boom! A barrage of energy blasts rained down on him like a storm, shrouding his position in violent explosions.
But the assault only lasted a few seconds before Muria, wrapped in his radiant aura, shot up from the smoke, charging straight toward the black-armored Star Warrior.
Boom!
Again, Muria closed in too fast for his opponent to react. The black-armored Star Warrior summoned all his equipment to block, but Muria, now fully unleashed, smashed through everything, scattering the fragments like a burst of metal confetti.
Blood sprayed as Muria's fist struck the warrior's abdomen, shattering his armor. The force tore through his body, sending shockwaves out his back, even forming a visible ring of compressed air.
"You…" Stunned, the Star Warrior released some of his armor in shock. His faceplate fell away, revealing a face twisted in agony and terror.
"How could you hit so hard?!"
"I hit my own sister. What makes you think you deserve any mercy?" Muria asked, raising an eyebrow.
"My compatibility rate is 81.75%! I'm set to be a core family member. How could you do this to me?"
"Still less than my sister's. So why should I treat you better than her?" Muria sneered, preparing to toss him aside. "Aren't you afraid you'll kill me with such force?" the black-armored warrior sputtered, spitting blood as he asked his final question.
"I'm a martial artist. My control over my power is beyond your comprehension. Don't worry; it may hurt, but it won't kill you," Muria replied, then tossed him to the ground, where he landed with a sickening thud.
"Anyone else up for a fight?" Muria hovered in the arena, staring down the crowd of onlookers.
The stadium fell silent; no one dared respond.
"No takers? Fine. Some of you have received my challenge letters. I'll give you time to prepare, but don't run when I come for you," he said.
…
That evening, Muria's suite doorbell rang. His maid eagerly answered it, and upon opening the door, she saw a familiar, elderly face.
"Sir, Butler Pais is here."
"Let him in."
"Good evening, Young Master Jeros. I apologize for disturbing you at this hour," greeted the butler with a polite smile, impeccably dressed as always.
"It's no disturbance. I expected you tonight."
"Oh? How did you know I'd be coming?"
"Isn't it obvious? After today's show of strength, the family is bound to have some new ideas."
"Indeed, today's fight has left a strong impression on the family."
"Of course, there are probably some who think I went overboard," Muria added. "Some might say I was too rough."
"No need to worry, Young Master Jeros," Pais reassured him, quietly marveling that Muria knew he'd been so harsh.
"Dessily hasn't woken yet, has she? Even if she does in a few days, she won't be able to move around on her own for some time."
"If you knew how badly this would injure Miss Dessily, why didn't you hold back?"
"I did hold back. Otherwise, her injuries would be far worse," Muria replied. "Take that young man who challenged me afterward—he'll be bedridden for at least a month."
"True enough. You crushed his intestines and severely damaged his organs. The hospital's regenerating them for him, but it'll take time."
"They're too fragile to withstand anything substantial."
"Young Master Jeros, you seem to have some opinions about the family's training methods?" Pais asked.
"I do. I think they're too lenient. The more they indulge these kids, the quicker they'll die when it counts," Muria stated bluntly.
"So, is that why you handled Miss Dessily as you did?" Pais asked with a slight smile.
"'Handled'? Is that how the family is interpreting the fight?"
"It's only some of them. Others believe you were instructing her."
"Good. At least some people understand." Muria nodded, satisfied.
"The family's decision is to ask you to train the remaining thirteen family members, including Miss Dessily."
"Hm?" Muria's face registered surprise. "The family elders want me to train them? Didn't they see how I treated my sister today?"
"They did, and that's exactly why they want to hire you as an instructor. We trust your control—painful as it may be, you'll ensure they survive."
"That's true. I must say, the family elders have a sharp eye."
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