The Villian Who Broke The Story

Chapter 82: Chapter 82: Pocket Knife 2

Chapter 83

The atmosphere inside the stadium had changed.

After Zion Crawford’s overwhelming display with nothing more than a pocket knife, the excitement among the spectators had reached an all-time high. Students, instructors, and the distinguished guests seated in the VIP stands were all eager to see whether the remaining contestants could produce an equally memorable performance.

The announcer’s voice echoed throughout the stadium.

"The next battle! Current Rank Eleven, Kael Draven... versus Current Rank Five!"

As the announcement rang out, Kael casually stepped out of the waiting room. His hands rested comfortably inside his pockets as though he were merely taking a leisurely stroll rather than preparing for one of the biggest battles of the tournament.

His crimson eyes slowly settled on the figure waiting at the opposite end of the arena.

Standing proudly with a long steel lance resting across his shoulder was a tall Tigerkin.

Golden eyes.

Orange-and-black striped ears.

A powerful tail swaying lazily behind him.

Every movement carried the confidence expected of someone who had earned a place among the academy’s Top Five.

Kael glanced at the lance before letting out a small sigh.

"Well..."

"The situation seemed to have changed a bit."

The Tigerkin narrowed his eyes.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Kael scratched the back of his head.

"Well... I wanted to fight a mage."

He looked at the Tigerkin before quickly adding,

"...not a knight."

His gaze unconsciously drifted toward the striped ears and tail.

"...and definitely not a Beastkin."

The moment those words left his mouth...

The temperature around the arena seemed to drop.

Several Beastkin students immediately glared at him.

Even the Tigerkin standing before him twitched in annoyance.

Realizing what he had just said, Kael immediately raised both hands.

"I don’t mean to be racist."

"Please excuse my earlier blunder."

For a brief moment...

The Tigerkin’s expression softened.

Only slightly.

Charlotte, watching from the spectator stands, buried her face in her palm.

"That overconfident idiot..."

She couldn’t believe Kael had almost started the fight by accidentally offending every Beastkin present.

The Tigerkin let out a slow breath before tightening his grip on his lance.

"So..."

"Why exactly are you disappointed that you’re fighting a Beastkin?"

Kael answered honestly.

"Because I wanted to replicate what Zion did."

His expression resembled that of a child who had just been told his favorite dessert had sold out.

The Tigerkin blinked.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well..."

"Seeing your expression..."

"I don’t really need to elaborate."

As he finished speaking, he reached into his pocket.

Instead of drawing a sword...

He pulled out a simple folding pocket knife.

The tiny blade reflected the sunlight as Kael casually pointed it toward his opponent.

Silence.

Then—

"You bastard!"

The Tigerkin’s voice thundered across the arena.

"Are you looking down on me?"

"I’ll have you know that I’m Rank Five!"

"I’m not as weak as that pathetic Felix you battled!"

Despite the outburst, Kael merely smiled.

"I never said you were."

"I just thought this would be more interesting."

The spectators immediately erupted into discussion.

"He’s really using it!"

"A pocket knife?"

"Is he seriously copying Zion?"

"Has he completely lost his mind?"

Even many instructors exchanged uncertain glances.

High above the arena, the VIP section remained focused on Kael.

Garrick leaned forward with an amused grin stretching across his face.

"Hahaha!"

"Are you trying to tell me that Kael’s trying to do exactly what your son did?"

"This boy really enjoys flexing."

The Sword Saint, Crawford, watched silently for a few moments before a faint smile appeared on his face.

"He isn’t merely copying Zion."

"He’s sending him a message."

Madam Voss observed the arena with her usual cold expression.

"That boy seems awfully arrogant."

"Well, Madam Voss," the Sword Saint replied calmly, "it seems this fight has piqued your interest."

"That is far from it."

"The boy is just arrogant."

"That’s all."

"This fight doesn’t pique my interest at all."

Her voice remained as emotionless as ever.

The Sword Saint chuckled quietly.

"Whatever you may think of this battle..."

"...doesn’t mean it isn’t going to be impressive."

Beside them, the Tigerkin representative folded her arms with an intrigued smile.

"Well, well, well..."

"I wonder how my junior brother will handle this upcoming prodigy."

Her eyes remained fixed on the arena.

Far below, Kael twirled the pocket knife between his fingers before catching it effortlessly.

His relaxed posture stood in complete contrast to the Tigerkin’s fighting stance.

The referee stepped into the center of the arena.

He glanced at both contestants before raising his hand.

"Contestants..."

"Prepare yourselves."

The Tigerkin lowered his center of gravity.

Mana surged through his body, causing faint orange patterns along his striped arms and tail to glow.

Kael calmly exhaled.

Darkness mana silently flowed into the small pocket knife until the ordinary blade became coated in a thin black aura.

The audience instinctively held their breath.

Then—

The referee swung his arm downward.

"And the battle begins!"

The instant the referee’s words fell—

The Tigerkin vanished.

Boom!

The stone beneath his feet shattered as his body exploded forward with terrifying speed.

The spectators barely had time to blink before the Tigerkin was already in front of Kael, his lance thrusting toward Kael’s throat with enough force to pierce through solid steel.

Clang!

A metallic ring echoed across the arena.

Gasps immediately erupted from the stands.

"...He blocked it?"

"...With a pocket knife?"

The Tigerkin’s pupils narrowed.

He had expected Kael to evade.

Instead, the tiny blade had intercepted the lance with pinpoint precision.

Not only had Kael blocked it...

He hadn’t even moved his feet.

The Tigerkin immediately twisted his wrist, turning the thrust into a sweeping strike aimed at Kael’s ribs.

Kael simply rotated the pocket knife.

Clang!

The second strike was redirected effortlessly.

The Tigerkin didn’t stop.

He disappeared once more.

His speed increased dramatically as afterimages spread throughout the arena.

One thrust...

Two...

Five...

Ten...

His lance attacked from every conceivable angle.

Above.

Below.

Behind.

The sides.

Every strike was aimed at a vital point.

Yet...

Every single attack met the same fate.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Kael calmly shifted nothing more than his wrist, allowing the small pocket knife to intercept every blow with frightening precision.

The arena echoed with the constant sound of steel colliding against steel.

Charlotte unconsciously leaned forward.

"He’s reading every attack..."

"No..."

"He’s predicting them."

Even the instructors watching from the sidelines exchanged surprised glances.

"This isn’t copying techniques..."

"This is pure combat instinct."

The Tigerkin growled under his breath before increasing his speed even further.

His tiger stripes suddenly emitted a brilliant orange glow.

Mana erupted around his body.

"So you’ve finally decided to get serious."

Kael smiled.

The Tigerkin answered by vanishing again.

This time he appeared behind Kael.

The lance descended toward the back of Kael’s neck.

Without turning around—

Kael simply lifted the pocket knife behind him.

Clang!

The attack stopped dead.

The Tigerkin immediately shifted to Kael’s left.

Another strike.

Blocked.

To the right.

Blocked.

Above.

Blocked.

Below.

Blocked again.

The spectators could barely follow the exchange anymore.

To them, the arena had become nothing but flashes of orange and black accompanied by the relentless ringing of metal.

Every collision sent shockwaves racing across the battlefield.

Cracks rapidly spread across the arena floor.

Stone fragments exploded into the air.

Dust clouds rolled across the battlefield.

Despite the destruction...

Kael still hadn’t taken a single step.

The Tigerkin clicked his tongue.

His frustration grew with every passing second.

No matter what angle he chose...

No matter how much speed he added...

Every attack was stopped by that ridiculously small pocket knife.

It was infuriating.

He roared before pouring even more mana into his body.

His muscles visibly swelled.

His movements became even faster.

The pressure radiating from him forced many lower-ranked students to instinctively hold their breath.

"He’s going all out!"

"Kael is finally going to move!"

The Tigerkin appeared directly in front of Kael once again.

Their weapons locked.

For the briefest instant...

Neither of them moved.

Then—

A violent shockwave erupted from the collision.

BOOM!

The arena trembled violently.

Chunks of stone were blasted away.

Even the protective barrier surrounding the ring rippled from the impact.

The Tigerkin refused to give Kael even a moment to breathe.

He disappeared again.

Another thrust.

Blocked.

Another slash.

Blocked.

Another overhead strike.

Blocked.

He attacked from every direction in rapid succession, his relentless barrage resembling an unstoppable storm.

The floor beneath Kael continued breaking apart.

Deep craters formed around him.

The destruction spread further and further with every exchange.

Yet the center of that destruction remained strangely calm.

Kael stood exactly where he had started.

Not a single step forward.

Not a single step backward.

His blazer fluttered gently from the shockwaves, but his expression remained as relaxed as ever.

The Tigerkin’s annoyance finally boiled over.

His breathing became heavier.

Veins bulged across his arms as he tightened his grip on the lance.

"Why...!"

"Why won’t you move?!"

Kael simply smiled.

"You know..."

"It took me three days to defeat you under the conditions I was during Miss Stella’s training."

The Tigerkin frowned.

Kael continued calmly while effortlessly blocking yet another strike.

"But fighting you now..."

"I can finally see why."

Another thrust came.

Clang!

Kael redirected it with almost insulting ease.

"But..."

He glanced at the numerous cracks covering the arena floor.

"You might actually ruin my drip if this one-sided onslaught goes on."

A grin slowly spread across his face.

"So..."

"I think it’s time for a counterattack."

.The Tigerkin’s eyes burned with fury.

"So you’ve finally decided to fight back..."

His tiger stripes blazed brilliantly as mana erupted from his body like an untamed storm. The pressure alone caused cracks to spread beneath his feet, forcing many of the lower-ranked students in the audience to unconsciously hold their breath.

Without another word, he vanished.

Boom!

The arena exploded beneath him.

His lance flashed repeatedly as he unleashed his fastest offensive yet. Every thrust was aimed at a vital point, each one faster than the last, leaving dozens of afterimages scattered across the battlefield.

Kael finally moved.

Vanishing Step.

The two figures disappeared from everyone’s sight before colliding again and again throughout the arena.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Each collision produced violent shockwaves that tore apart the already damaged platform. Broken stone flew into the protective barriers surrounding the arena while dust clouds swallowed both fighters.

"This speed..."

"Are they even first-years?"

Several guests could no longer hide their surprise.

The Tigerkin continued his relentless assault, refusing to give Kael even a second to breathe. Every failed strike flowed seamlessly into another, his movements becoming increasingly wild as frustration slowly replaced composure.

Yet Kael remained calm.

His crimson eyes followed every minute movement of the lance.

Nothing escaped his perception.

The Tigerkin suddenly changed directions, twisting his waist as he poured every remaining ounce of strength into one decisive strike.

"Finish this!"

His lance roared through the air.

Kael smiled faintly.

At the last possible instant—

He sidestepped.

The lance missed him by mere centimeters.

Before the Tigerkin could recover...

Kael’s right leg swept upward.

BOOM!

The kick landed squarely against the Tigerkin’s side.

The force launched him high into the sky.

His grip on the lance almost failed as his body spun helplessly through the air.

His instincts screamed.

Someone...

Was behind him.

The Tigerkin turned his head just enough to see Kael already standing in the air, the pocket knife held exactly like a sword.

Silence descended over the stadium.

Kael slowly exhaled.

The world around him disappeared.

There was only one target.

Only one strike.

His arm moved.

A brilliant line of silver light flashed across the sky.

"First Form... Guiding Light."

The slash was impossibly clean.

Many of the lower-ranked students never even saw Kael swing.

Even some of the distinguished guests widened their eyes.

Kael had already passed his opponent before anyone realized the attack had been completed.

He landed softly on the arena floor.

The pocket knife remained in his hand for only a brief moment before he loosened his grip.

High above...

The Tigerkin’s body froze.

His glowing stripes dimmed.

His lance slipped from his fingers.

Then—

THUD!

He crashed heavily onto the arena floor, unconscious before he even touched the ground.

Almost simultaneously—

Clink.

Kael’s pocket knife fell beside him.

The two sounds echoed together throughout the silent stadium.

Not a single person spoke.

Every gaze remained fixed on the young man standing calmly in the center of the ruined arena.

Kael slowly lifted his head.

His eyes met Zion Crawford’s across the stadium.

A small grin appeared on his face.

He spoke only one word.

"Copied."

For the briefest moment, Zion’s expression darkened before the corners of his lips lifted into an almost imperceptible smile.

The referee finally snapped out of his daze.

Raising his hand, he announced in a loud voice,

"The winner... Kael Draven!"

The silence shattered.

Thunderous applause and deafening cheers erupted throughout the stadium as Kael calmly turned and walked toward the waiting room, leaving behind another overwhelming victory.