Another explosion detonated beneath my feet and hurled me sideways through the air. The recoil twisted my body, heat roaring past my ears as the arena floor blurred below.
"My thrum stat," I shouted, grinning like an idiot despite the strain in my arms, "is the one thing I am confident in!"
I did not give him time to answer.
Explosions chained together in rapid succession.
Each detonation overlapped the last, pushing me higher, faster, then snapping me sideways again. The pressure shook the air. Stone cracked. Smoke swallowed the space between us.
Lioren cut through it.
His blade carved a clean path through the explosions, wind screaming as it condensed around the edge. Each swing split the blasts apart instead of deflecting them. It was terrifying.
But Lioren knew better.
I saw it in his eyes, just for a moment. If this kept going, he would lose.
The result of that should have made me hesitate. Drawing this much attention, especially from the Ocypete elders, was dangerous.
Instead, my thoughts slipped sideways.
My real cousin always believed in me.
She tried to pull me into things. Tried to stand beside me. Tried to make space for me in her life. And every time, I stepped back.
I hid behind shame. Shame that I was not talented enough. Not impressive enough. Not worth standing next to someone like her. I convinced myself I was a burden. That my presence would only drag her down.
And now, in the middle of the arena, staring down at Lioren, that same feeling rose up again.
I realized I was staring too long only when Kaye narrowed her eyes in my memory.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
The memory snapped apart.
I clenched my jaw.
Stopping self-loathing might be beyond me right now, but accepting verbal beatings from others is another thing.
"…Thank you," I thought. "I will do my best this time."
I detonated.
The explosion kicked beneath my feet, flipping me midair above him as pressure thundered outward.
I twisted my body, extended my arms downward, and compressed everything into a focused strike.
Two layers. This was the fastest I could do with the limited time frame.
The blast forced him down and crushed what remained of his footing.
Stone ruptured as he slammed into the arena floor, the impact carving a shallow crater beneath him.
When the dust cleared, Lioren was on one knee.
Stone erupted outward in a ring as a shallow crater formed beneath him. The shockwave rolled across the arena floor and rattled the barrier walls.
When the dust cleared, Lioren was on one knee.
His uniform was torn and stained. Dirt smeared across his chest and sleeves. Blood ran from a cut along his cheekbone. He leaned heavily on his sword, using it like a cane just to stay upright.
The wind enhancement was failing.
One wing had already dispersed into loose currents. The other flickered weakly behind him, its shape unstable.
I had promised myself I would beat him badly enough that even his mother would hesitate to call him handsome.
Turns out bruises, dirt, tears, and blood only made him look like some kind of ruined artwork instead of less attractive.
Life sure is unfair.
He squinted upward, blinded by the sunlight at first. When his eyes adjusted, he saw me hovering above him. I was rising and falling in short, uneven bursts as explosions kept me aloft.
I felt ridiculous.
Like a human pogo stick.
I wanted to look cool too, damn it.
Anyone would. Instead, I was soaked in sweat, chest heaving, muscles screaming. Not because I was low on thrum. I still had more than enough to keep blasting until evening.
My body just could not keep up.
Lioren laughed quietly.
It was rough and hoarse, like it hurt to do.
"I really lost," he muttered.
He loosened his grip.
The sword slipped from his fingers and clattered against the stone.
The remaining wing dissolved into scattered wind. The extended blade unraveled and vanished like smoke.
He straightened as much as he could and looked at me properly.
He smiled.
Not the smug and the cold, superior curl of his mouth from the cafeteria.
A real smile.
"I lost because you were stronger."
For half a second, my brain short-circuited.
"Why is this snake-like bastard arting like this?"
Then he raised his hand and flipped me off.
I snapped.
Explosions ignited beneath my feet as I surged forward, intent on knocking that stupid smile right out of his face.
Before I could reach him, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Match over!"
Professor Zmey's voice echoed across the arena.
"The winner is Matthew Pier Sallinin!"
The pressure vanished instantly. The barrier disengaged. The crowd erupted.
I fell towards the ground, fists clenched, staring up at Lioren as he kept smiling, like he had just reached some life-changing conclusion.
And then it hit me, that hand gesture he just did.
A memory earlier resurfaced.
_________________________________
Lioren narrowed his eyes. "What is that gesture supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing," I said casually, lowering my hand. "It's a gesture of respect before a fight. You raise your middle finger like this toward someone you consider a worthy opponent."
_________________________________
I had taught him that.
I clicked my tongue and let myself ease on the ground.
_________________________________
It was now Friday.
Yesterday's match had given me attention. I expected that much. What I did not expect was how bad it would be.
Bad as in this.
"Good morning, Matt!"
Nagi greeted me with a bright smile while flipping me off.
I sighed.
The Finster group was there too, congratulating me on the match. Apparently, someone had recorded it.
The footage spread fast online.
People kept talking about Lioren's acknowledgment as if it were some historic moment.
They talked about the unique gesture, too.
In an interview, Lioren said it was a gesture to do to someone you formally acknowledge as strong.
Maku approached next.
"That was a good match," he said honestly.
"If you fail the graduate, Excellia, call me. I will recruit you as a junior knight under my name."
Then he flipped me off and walked away like this was normal behavior.
Waffle followed soon after. She bowed slightly, polite as always.
"Nice to meet you," she said. "I was wondering about your explosion."
The moment the thought crossed her mind, it came spilling out.
"Your ability just now. That wasn't magic, was it?"
I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, she answered the question herself.
"It doesn't match any documented exclusive skill either," she continued, pacing a little as she talked.
"There was no chant, no structured thrum flow, and the output curve was completely abnormal. Are you sure it isn't a bloodline ability? Or maybe a mutation?"
Then she suddenly stopped and looked straight at me.
"Oh! and that gesture. The one you and Lioren did."
Before I could warn her, she raised her hand and copied it perfectly, middle finger aimed right at my face.
My soul tried to leave my body.
I swear I felt my remaining dignity curl up and die on the spot.
"Sto-!" I hissed, half lunging forward in my seat, half dying inside.
Too late.
Waffle blinked, completely innocent. "Like that, right?"
....
Finster approached last.
"I knew you were strong," he said, arms crossed. "But I did not expect you could fly."
Then he frowned.
"Why did you not show me that gesture you did with Lioren? Did you not consider me a worthy opponent?"
He leaned closer.
"Just so you know, I already acknowledged you way before we started the match."
He raised his hand, irritation written all over his face.
I panicked.
I grabbed his hand with both of mine and forced it down.
...
...
...
The group stared at us.
Inside my head, I was screaming.
Absolutely not. No. Never.
My favorite character. Finster Regleia Blume.
In the flesh!
Should not be flipping off his biggest fan, who crossed worlds just to save him.
I tightened my grip.
Finster, apparently taking this as a challenge, strained harder to raise his finger.
We stood like that.
Locked in a silent struggle over a single gesture.
...
...
...
"You know," Tasora said after a long pause, "you already denied it before, but you have to admit this looks pretty gay."
She then continued, "nagi was already here for you, and you still try to bag another one. How greedy can you be?"
I stared at her.
The situation was spiraling.
The longer this went on, the more unhinged everything became. I could practically feel my last few remaining brain cells dying.
A calm voice cut through the mess.
"Congratulations on your victory. It was a good match."
"Kyaaaaa!"
"Aaaaaaah!"
Azalea and Nagi screamed at the same time.
Heck, I almost screamed too, but I was slowly getting used to this by now.
Cwal stood there, unfazed.
"Should we proceed with our plan this weekend?" he asked.
"Oh, and I would also like to personally test how strong you are myself."
He flipped me off.
Tasora saw this and stiffened.
"Impossible," she muttered. "A reverse harem in the first week."
She nodded to herself. "Umu. Umu."
Then she looked at me seriously.
"It may be too early for you to face me, but I acknowledge your skill at least in that department."
She flipped me off with absolute conviction.
I felt like I had just been lobotomized.