Marcus rushed forward - Leon figured, okay, damn.
A bulky two-fifty frame charged forward, as if a stone figure got jet engines bolted on. With every step - snap, snap, snap - the toughened floor split apart.
Leon stayed frozen. Not just then. Stuff ran on its own, filling his eyes with info he hadn't quite figured out how to handle without feeling dizzy.
[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
[TARGET: MARCUS TRENT]
[CORE TYPE: HARDENING (DEFENSIVE)]
[POWER: 24 | SPEED: 7 | STAMINA: 31]
[COMBAT STYLE: OVERWHELMING FORCE]
[WEAKNESS: STAMINA DRAIN, REDUCED MOBILITY]
Marcus struck fast - like something falling from space - but shifted slow, like wading through old syrup. That power to stiffen his body? It made him tough as stone, though burned energy quicker than a busted phone guzzles battery.
He dropped low. Right then, a punch like a brick barely missed his head - so near he caught the warmth from it. All at once, sharp air mixed with teenage rage hit his nose.
Hold your ground!" Marcus shouted.
Leon nearly cracked a smile. Hold on tight. Sure thing. Why don't I try that instead.
He skipped replying - no time. Chatting during battle? That's what film stars do, or fools; plus he'd already blown his fool allowance just showing up here. Onward he stayed, quick-footed, making Marcus plod behind like a grizzly after a twitchy hare.
The thing with bears? They grow weary.
"Stop running, you coward!"
Around the circle, people shouted loud. As he slipped a wild punch, Leon heard bits of what they yelled
"literally just running away"
"wait is that actually smart?"
"no WAY that's an F-Rank"
Commander Rostova lingered by the edge, tapping her datapad - Leon could feel her watching, even without tech telling him so. She noticed everything. Maybe even tracked his pulse from across the field.
Marcus went for a shoulder charge - bad move. He gave it away way before, wobbling his body like someone stumbling after too many drinks.
Leon spun off the corner post, wasting all his speed. The impact made the structure tremble - Marcus slammed it full force.
[TARGET STAMINA: 87%]
[HARDENING EFFICIENCY DECREASING]
Way too sluggish. So Leon decided he'd have to earn it.
"Your defense is impressive," Leon said, because sometimes you had to poke the bear. "Shame you can't actually hit anything with it."
Marcus turned first red, then purple. "You tiny bastard"
The color crept over his frame, shifting his shape into what looked like a statue from an old church yard. Yet inside the stony surface, flashes of blue light jumped along splits and grooves - electricity frozen mid-strike. This wasn't partial - it was total change. His strength showed clear now, ranked among the stronger ones out there.
Burning inside him hard - like it didn't matter anymore.
Marcus charged forward - wild, furious, like a storm with nowhere to go. His fists flew fast, one after another without pause. Not left then right but slashing crossways, snapping upward, twisting sideways - a brutal rhythm nobody could dance through. Had they landed? Leon'd have been smeared thin across the floor.
Nothing fit together.
The Hound's gut reacted first - left shoulder down before the right punch, pressure shifting ahead of the jab, guard slipping after each flurry. Not a thought in sight. Just motion, sliding through hits like rain off skin.
Yet he'd moved past avoiding attacks. Now, it was about checking patterns. Poking at weaknesses. Figuring out Marcus's habits - stuff even Marcus might've missed. Could that hesitation on the left tie back to an old wound? Or how he pushed too far when chaining moves, opening up his side for just a blink.
[TARGET STAMINA: 71%]
[HARDENING INTEGRITY: 94%]
The crowd fell silent. Instructor Kovacs stared blankly, as if he'd just tasted something completely new. Near the distant fence, Damian Horne stood frozen - his entire understanding slipping through his fingers.
"ENOUGH!"
Marcus stood firm, then slammed his foot down hard. Because of that blast, Leon got hit while trying to move aside - sent flying toward the edge. Pain shot through his chest. Suddenly, he tasted blood inside his mouth.
[DAMAGE SUSTAINED: MINOR]
[HP: 87/100]
Leon showed up, wiped his mouth - blood on the ground - then smirked.
Breathing hard, Marcus could barely keep up. Down his stony features ran streams of sweat while flashes of blue light sputtered - weak, unsteady, almost gone.
[TARGET STAMINA: 53%]
[HARDENING EFFICIENCY: 76%]
[PREDICTION: COLLAPSE IN 4.7 MINUTES]
Leon lacked even 4.7 minutes. Rostova kept a sharp eye; each moment longer dragged him closer to exposure - her suspicion growing by the second.
Let's wrap it up now.
He moved forward fast. Marcus's eyes widened - maybe the first moment someone ranked F came at him, not ran. Leon covered ground quicker than his level allowed, then a pop-up lit up:
[SHADOW STEP AVAILABLE]
[WARNING: ABILITY USE WILL BE VISIBLE]
Nah. Leon brushed it off - no way he could pull off shadow-jumping with so many people watching.
He used raw speed plus sharp hunter-like reflexes instead. Slipped past Marcus's defense before those thick arms could swing hard. When Marcus reached out to catch him, Leon had moved - already shifting position, then hitting the spot behind Marcus's knee just right to make it give way.
Marcus dropped like a collapsing tower. His stiff frame didn't shift during the fall - way too tight, way too late. The impact made the ring shudder on contact.
Leon jumped on him fast. A knee pressed into his chest. His fist pulled back, aiming for the neck - where the Hardening wasn't strong enough to help.
He stayed put. Just waited instead.
"Yield."
Marcus stared, burned by shame but also fired up - maybe even a hint of honor creeping in. Half a minute passed, nearly forever, and Leon figured the fool's ego might shut it down.
Next, the rocky surface faded out. After that, the bright blue light went dark.
"I yield."
The bell chimed.
Leon held out his hand. Marcus just looked at it - like it was dangerous - before finally grabbing on. That shaky hold said it all: his body gave out after holding Hardening way too long.
The crowd went wild. A low-tier guy took down someone stronger. That fight'd hit the message boards by sunset.
Commander Rostova materialized at ringside. "Impressive, Mr. Vale. Textbook energy management and opponent analysis. Where did you learn to fight like that?"
Leon didn't show any expression. "Tutorials on YouTube."
Kovacs gagged on his drink. A person nearby snickered, unsure.
Rostova's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but in the same zip code. "I see. Well, your YouTube tutorials have earned you provisional admission to Federal Vanguard Academy. Report to admin tomorrow for orientation."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Don't thank me yet." Her eyes locked onto his, and Leon felt like she was reading his browser history. "Provisional means you're on notice. One screwup, one failed eval, and you're done. Clear?"
She left, yet her eyes stayed - just a moment longer than normal. She had it figured out. Not every piece, not the setup or the hidden parts, but enough to sense things weren't right.
She'd still open the door though.
Why?
The other candidates swarmed around, asking stuff or cheering - Leon brushed it off, thoughts spinning fast. Sure, he got in. But now everyone's watching, like he's marked for trouble.
Marcus shoved past people, face twisted like he'd just swallowed something sour. Yet his words came out steady - "You're stronger than what that title claims."
"We all are," Leon replied. "That's why we're here."
Once people started leaving, Leon slipped into a quiet spot to catch his breath. His side ached from slamming against the wall, yet the sharpness had faded - his boosted stamina kicking in slowly.
[COMBAT COMPLETE]
[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED: ANALYSIS (PASSIVE)]
[OPPONENT WEAKNESS & PATTERN IDENTIFICATION]
[INTEGRATION: 94%]
Leon checked the alert. This ability turned chaos into numbers - spotting weak spots, reading moves before they happened. Soon, it'd just click. Automatic. Like breathing.
He grew tougher each day. Yet that image wouldn't let go - the hall, the crown, the voice naming him successor. Successor to what mess? What'd even remain of Leon Vale once he took hold of whatever rotting legacy that scumbag handed down?
_____________________________________________________________
Outside, his folks waited in the viewing area. His dad tipped his head just a bit. Tears ran down his mom's face - tears from joy, though they hit Leon harder than grief ever did.
He glanced toward the school's central hall. The towers stretched upward, almost as if defying gravity.
He'd gotten inside.
Beside him, his shadow dragged over the field - oddly stretched. Thicker than normal, almost as if paint bled into the air. It sat wrong under the light.
Leon didn't notice.
The system kept silent.
Yet deep down, far off in a hall beyond years and miles, an old thing woke up.
And smiled.