Well Done

Lucas's eyes widened. The moment the match started, his entire body distorted forward. Fists reeled back, and a deafening defining blow was dealt right to Dwyane's face, knocking him several yards away. His feet skidded across the tiles until he came to a complete stop by the edge of the ring.

The crowd was stunned.

Lucas straightened himself, looking at his discoloured fist. He thought to himself, 'I aimed that punch at his chin, but it didn't knock him out like I was taught…'

Almost all the grade threes present were shocked beyond relief. That was because, for a split second, they lost sight of him. When they took a good look at him, they each noticed his very veins were glowing a white colour. A female spectator asked the peers next to her, "Is he using an artifact?"

Lucas couldn't help but hear Valentina say in a soft tone, "Serenity…"

This was the name of Lucas's mother. Many onlookers were shocked when they discovered that he had been using his mother's protective spirit. It was her trademark skill when she was alive: To amplify one's spirit level for a time. Lucas stood there, calm and collected, gazing at Hieronymus.

There wasn't an ounce of surprise on his face. And Lucas understood why. This skill might have made him strong enough to injure Primates despite being a Reader, but it wouldn't last long, and it was a one-time-only feat. For the skill didn't belong to him personally.

As to how he learned it, Lucas attributed that to his times spent praying over his mother's tombstone. What traces were left of Serenity's spirit managed to help her youngest son from the grave.

Dwayne, after stopping himself, fixed his dislocated jaw. Lucas immediately dashed toward him. He wasn't going to give him a chance to fully recover. By the time Dwayne looked up. Lucas had already closed the distance.

He thought he was going to try to punch him out of the ring. Instead, Lucas swiped his feet, knocking him off balance. As Dwayne was falling, he twisted his body and managed to hang off the edge of the ring with his fingers. Fearing Lucas was going to stop on them, he used just his finger strength to propel himself over him.

The two locked eyes as Dwayne was upside down right above him. Lucas hadn't attacked. Which meant Dwyane's movements were being read. Now that Dwayne was in the air, countering from that angle was going to be nearly impossible for him.

He tried twirling his body before landing, but Lucas had already closed the distance. Two quick kicks to the head and then his abdomen sent Dwayne tumbling to the ground. He quickly got up, and already Lucas was in front of him.

If there was something Lucas had learned about the arts of fighting, it was to never give your opponent time to think. A loud bang was heard in the arena from a powerful backhand to Dwayne's temple.

The crowd was in disbelief while Lucas merely flexed his hand. Had he not been a tad exhausted from that relentless combo of attacks, he would have continued. The descendants watching intently were under the impression that he was akin to a shut-in. Little did anyone know that Lucas had been training himself in the art of combat!

"Alright then." Dwayne said, panting. "Listen, pal. I'll admit… you're by far the strongest person I've ever fought. I honestly didn't think people like you existed, so I'll show you something special."

This was exactly what Lucas was waiting for—a moment to catch his breath. Dwayne lifted a finger forward. A purple orb made of light appeared at his tip. Seven beams then shot out, racing towards Lucas. They all looked like ravens flapping their wings.

Techniques such as projectiles made of one's spirits being fired out of the body were quite special in this world. Of the top five skills to learn, range was an advantageous one. Lucas immediately began side-stepping, spinning, and dodging swiftly as if he were dancing. Many were quite impressed with his elegant movements.

After the fifth raven was dodged, he had already thought of a plan. Dwayne remained stationary to control the ravens. That meant he was vulnerable to attack. And while Lucas was dodging, he was slowly closing the gap between them.

The instant Dwayne caught on to what he was planning, it was too late. Lucas managed to uppercut him right in the chin, sending him up in the air. He then grabbed him by the ankle and tried throwing him out of the ring. Just when people thought Dwayne was too far away to make a recovery, a raven swooped by for him to jump off of.

'Mother's skill is about to run out,' Lucas thought to himself as Dwayne landed back into the ring.

He was now in a pinch. Despite the match looking one-sided, Dwayne still had a lot of energy left. Did that perturb Lucas? Not in the slightest.

"Play time's over, boy!"

In a fit of rage, Dwayne dashed toward Lucas. Everyone could tell he was attempting to hit him at point-blank range with a raven. What happened next left them overzealous. Lucas had managed to grab Dwayne's wrist before placing him in a straight armbar!

Dust clouds violently spread across the two on the ground. Dwyane was doing everything he could to escape as Lucas tightened his grip. The grappling technique was only ever read about, so Lucas's technique was amateurish. Yet it was still enough to keep his opponent from easily breaking out.

Once Lucas felt Dwayne's muscles bulging to lift the two up together, he strengthened his hold. Dwayne screamed!

"Argh! You're gonna break it!"

Lucas hadn't said a word. If winning this match meant Dwyane had to go handicap for the rest of his life, he would blame him for not having surrendered in time. As such, his grip was strengthened even more. The referee quickly rushed over to make sure the two were alright.

Dwayne's statement earlier was right. Play time was over—over for him.

His screams grew louder and louder. To the point where the referee was sweating profusely. It was clear he wanted him to stop the agonizing screams piercing his ears. Even the majority of the crowd felt sorry for him.

When Dwyane couldn't take the pain anymore, he tapped out. The referee immediately called the match just as Lucas released his bind.

For the entire fight, Dwayne was surely equal to, if not greater than, Lucas's physical attributes. It was only his careless acts that turned the fight lopsided. On top of that, Lucas was able to read his maneuvers better than he expected.

Grades higher than three could easily tell that had the fight dragged on any longer, Lucas would have lost. The skill he used had a time limit. As for its boost, it was only a one-time use. That meant that though he mimicked the physical traits of a grade three, he could never do it again without breaking through.

Standing as the victor, Lucas's entire body began suffering from the aftereffects of spirit exhaustion. He was tired, but he wasn't showing any signs of it. What he needed to do was send a message to the descendants. It was that he was done with their maltreatment.

The crowd cheered for having been entertained. Yet Lucas didn't hear them. His focus was on Hieronymus. When people noticed it and looked towards their patriarch, he slowly stood from his seat. What could the highest-ranking person in the sect possibly have to say, Lucas wondered?

Rather than make a sudden announcement, he slowly began clapping. The crowd noticed and clapped alongside him. In just a matter of moments, the entire arena was filled with more cheers. Lucas had never been in a situation like this before.

He felt uncomfortable; he felt livid. All his years, he had never been acknowledged for his potential, always having been suppressed rather than helped. And now they have chosen to show him honour? Lucas knew what the patriarch was truly doing: he was using him to further exemplify why his bloodline was the greatest of all time.

"Well done," he said in a deep tone.

Lucas tried his best to hide his resentment. His blood was still rushing from his hard-fought battle.

"Let this be a lesson to you all. We, of the Barcelona Sect, bear only astute warriors from generation to generation!"