(Arin's Perspective)
Twilight began to creep in, dragging the blanket of night from the east to swallow the last orange glow on the horizon. The evening wind blew cold, a sharp contrast to the feverish heat spreading through my body from extreme exhaustion. I quickened my limping pace, ignoring the needle-like pain shooting through my heels with every step. If the dormitory gates closed before I arrived, I was finished. Sleeping outside was an invitation for hypothermia or, worse, becoming a midnight snack for a stray nocturnal monster.
Instead of the grand main gate with its white marble pillars, I took a sharp turn onto the muddy footpath winding toward the back entrance. This rat path was narrow, choked with untended wild bushes, and poorly guarded. It was the perfect crack in the wall for troublemakers or those carrying illicit "souvenirs" like me.
True enough, only a handful of guards were visible, lazily leaning against the sentry post while smoking cheap rolled tobacco.
"Returning from a hunt," I said briefly when they blocked my path with halberds held in loose, careless grips.
They simply waved me through, their faces wrinkling in disgust as the stench of swamp mud, rotting carcass, and the copper tang of blood hit their noses. Unlike the disciplined guards at the main gate, the men here were notoriously incompetent and easily bribed by young nobles looking to smuggle goods or sneak out at night. They likely assumed I was just a lowly errand boy who had just finished his master's dirty work, unworthy of a second glance.
My legs continued to drag my heavy body toward the dorms, but I stopped dead when three figures blocked the empty path. Their shadows stretched long across the ground, cutting off the only access.
One of them, a bulky boy, stepped forward with his chin lifted in arrogance. His broad shoulders were clad in plate armor that was far too pristine for a mere evening stroll.
"Stop. Protection fee..." His eyes narrowed, recognizing his target in the dim twilight. "Well, isn't this the Cripple, Arin? Look at you. Battered, filthy, and limping like a stray dog kicked by its master."
Laughter erupted from his two companions behind him, a scornful sound that rang loud in the quiet evening.
Gareth. The strongest student in Class C and the loyal lapdog of Elian Delphine, the heir to Duke Delphine. Armed with that connection, he acted like a petty king of the back gate, extorting anyone he deemed weak or without powerful backing. It was a hollow authority built on the fear of others.
"Move. I have a permit," I replied coldly, trying to hide the tremor of exhaustion in my voice.
"A permit to exit does not mean a permit to bring in trash. You smell like a carcass, Arin. You are polluting the sacred air of the Academy that should smell of noble perfume." He spat on the ground, right near my boot.
"People like you are the real pollution in this place. Industrial waste hiding behind expensive silk."
Gareth's eyebrows shot down. A vein bulged in his neck. "Oh... so the dog has learned to bark? It seems the last lesson wasn't enough to teach you your place."
The atmosphere tightened instantly. In front of bullies like them, submission was not an option. Once you showed weakness, they would only become more savage in tearing apart your dignity.
Gareth's gaze fell on the pouch at my waist, specifically the jar that bulged slightly against the fabric.
"What is that? Hand it over."
"None of your business." My right hand reflexively moved to protect my catch. I had risked my life dissecting a monster in poisonous mud to get this Horned Frog heart; I would not let it be taken by a schoolyard thug who only knew how to beg.
"Boss, that looks like a Horned Frog's heart. It fetches a decent price on the black market, enough to buy high-quality wine," whispered one of his lackeys, pouring oil on the fire.
Gareth's eyes gleamed with greed. "A windfall! Give it here, or I will crush your bones one by one until you beg."
"Never. Over my dead body."
"Stubborn bastard! You two stand back. I will teach this cripple a lesson myself. I will make sure he crawls back to the dorms tonight."
Gareth stepped forward, cracking his neck and stretching his muscles until his joints popped intimidatingly. He was confident he could crush me with his bare hands, the blind confidence of a preening peacock who felt physically superior.
Although the use of weapons and magic was strictly forbidden outside the training arena, Gareth was either cunning or simply underhanded. He coated his body in a layer of Junior-Level Aura that was incredibly thin. It was faint enough to fool the mana sensors scattered around the school grounds, yet hard enough to snap a normal human's bones like dry twigs.
Retreat was no longer possible. I settled into a stance, raising both hands to protect my vitals. My focus narrowed, and the world around me slowed.
Whoosh!
Gareth's left hand lashed out like a whip. Fast and deadly. The wind pressure alone was enough to sting my cheek.
Without taking a single step back, I tilted my neck slightly. The fist whistled past my ear, the wind ruffling my hair and leaving a burning sensation on my skin. It missed shattering my jaw by mere millimeters.
He was clearly using mana reinforcement. The destructive power felt terrifying even without visual flair. If that connected, I would be in a coma.
The attack continued. Gareth's right heel pivoted, digging into the ground to send a kinetic wave from his calf to his waist, finally exploding at the tip of his right fist. A full-power cross aimed at my head to end the fight in one second.
I bent my knees deep. I let the fist sweep through empty air above my head, then my body sprang back up like a released coil.
An opening.
Gareth's elbow was exposed wide due to over-commitment on his attack. His ribs were unprotected. Without hesitation, I drove my right fist vertically upward as an opener.
THUD!
Chin met ceiling. Teeth clattered together violently. Gareth's head snapped back, his eyes widening in shock.
"Y-You bastard!" he cursed, stumbling backward while clutching his jaw, which was likely hairline-fractured.
The attack was clean, yet Gareth only wobbled for a moment. He did not fall. That was the unfairness of this world. No matter how hard a physical punch was, it struggled to drop an opponent protected by a mana aura. Their bodies were as tough as conveyor belts, absorbing impact with cheating efficiency.
Worse, my body began to scream. The muscles cramping from the experiment in the forest had not fully recovered. Every movement sent signals of pain to my brain.
One of Gareth's subordinates stepped forward to help, but was stopped by his boss whose pride was wounded.
"Stay there! That was just luck. Watch, I will beat him until he dies. I won't leave a single tooth in his mouth!"
His ego was still high. Good. Anger made movements coarse and easy to read.
I had to end this quickly. My stamina would not last for a long round. If this dragged on, I would die of exhaustion.
I regulated my breathing again. Ignoring the fear, I began to manipulate my internal organs.
Inhale... Hold... Inhale... Hold...
Compress the lungs. Force the heart to work beyond reasonable limits. The key was Patience. Wait for him to enter the unavoidable killing range.
Gareth charged again, this time with a straight punch full of reckless rage. He abandoned his defense for a lethal strike.
I stepped in, slipping to the outside of his reach, entering his comfort zone.
Gareth's position was completely open. His right ribs were displayed clearly before my eyes.
EXPLODE!
That sensation of heat returned. Not a comforting warmth, but the scorching heat of hell. From a heart forced to pump at extreme pressure, Aura flowed wildly into my left arm like magma seeking an exit. It slammed stinging heat into my fist, burning the blood vessels along its path.
For a split second, a solid, dim mana enveloped my fist. It was faint, but dense.
I drove a left hook squarely into his ribs with all the torque of my waist.
BOOM!
A shockwave tore through the air, creating a small explosion that rattled the ears. The steel plate on Gareth's chest dented inward instantly, hammering the bones beneath it without mercy.
The dull sound of cracking was horrifying, like the sound of a tree branch surrendering to pressure. Gareth coughed violently, spraying air mixed with fresh blood that stained his expensive armor.
His body lifted slightly into the air from the brutal repulsive force. Wasting no momentum as he floated helplessly, my right hand followed up with a closing Uppercut from below.
A solid impact to the chin, compounding the previous damage. Gareth's eyes rolled back to white, his consciousness severed instantly. The massive body collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, exactly like a puppet whose strings had been forcibly cut.
"Hah... hah..."
My breath came in heavy gasps, my lungs feeling as if they were on fire. Blood capillaries along my left arm burst in unison, turning the skin a gruesome shade of purple bruise in seconds. My metacarpal bones cracked from the brutal recoil of punching steel.
It felt like my muscles were being ripped alive from the bone.
I stared at Gareth's two followers who now stood frozen with pale faces. Their eyes darted between their boss sprawled on the dirt and my bruised hand.
"You two," my voice was hoarse, low, and threatening; sounding more like the growl of a wounded beast. "Take this trash away. Or I will make you sleep next to him."
"D-Damn it! You'll pay for this! The Delphine family won't let this slide!"
Without thinking twice, they panicked, dragged Gareth's unconscious body, and ran for their lives, leaving a trail of dragged feet in the dirt. A small satisfaction spread through me seeing that arrogance crumble into pure fear.
However, once the adrenaline receded, the true pain arrived, hitting like a tsunami.
My limping walk continued toward the dormitory. Every movement was torture, as if my body was screaming for me to stop. My left hand could not be moved at all; numbness mixed with a piercing ache that stabbed down to the marrow. My fingers were swollen, bent at unnatural angles.
It was definitely broken. Maybe crushed.
Fresh blood dripped from my nose again, falling to stain a uniform already tattered and dirty. My vision began to shadow with black spots, the world around me spinning.
Once the door to my dorm room closed and locked, my defenses crumbled. My body slid down to the cold floor. I coughed violently, retching a clot of blood onto the hard wood.
The technique was effective. Terrifyingly effective for killing an opponent far stronger. But using it twice a day was madness. I was trading the integrity of my body for a moment of power.
I lay staring at the blurry ceiling, feeling the cold floor absorb the fever heat from my body. I refused to pass out. Let this pain be a reminder that I was still conscious, that I was still alive.
My cracked and bloody lips curled into a thin smile, a bitter victory in the midst of solitude.
"It hurts so much..." I whispered to the silence of the dark room. "But... I won."